Page 101 of Race to Me

His hand slides through his thick black hair. “Okay, I’ve got your back, but I’m not wearing fucking leggings or anything.”

I’m not sure what the guys will be wearing. “I promise if they make you wear leggings, I’m out.” I chuckle. “So, it’s one dance with the group and an optional solo after. I figured if you wanted to, we could do that.” An idea pops into my head, so I quickly add, “You could teach me one of the dances your grandma taught you!” He grows quiet, and I grow nervous. “But I’m so thankful for the one dance we’re doing. A solo isn’t necessary.”

Foster’s tattooed hand lands on the nape of my neck gently. “I would be honored if you would dance with me.”

Forty

Classes will be coming to a close soon, and by the way the teachers are being lax, you can tell. After a relaxing day at school—which I never thought I would say—me and Kate are headed out to Mrs. Rita’s.

The Miami sun beats down heavily, allowing warm salty wind to flow through the open windows of my new Corolla. “I still can’t believe he got you a car,” Kate admires the interior, patting her hand on the glove compartment.

“I know. I told him not too. I still feel guilty about it.” I admit.

She turns up the radio a little, chiding, “Just enjoy it; he’s a car guy. This probably makes him happier than you know.”

“We’re here!” I sing, pulling into Rita’s apartment building.

Kate jumps out when we stop. “I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen her!”

I grip the roll of fabric and head to her door, knocking once before she rips it open with a huge smile on her face. “Girls! I’m so happy you called. Come in, come in!”

The usual children are floating around, Lucia is asleep, of course. Sophie runs up to hug my leg, hiding shyly from Kate.

She pulls on my pants and I bend down. “Your friend looks like Princess Merida,” she whispers.

Kate, who hasn’t spoken a word yet, leans down. In a terrible Irish accent, she loudly says, “Hello! It’s so nice to meet you.”

Sophie instantly releases my pants leg, traveling to Kate. “Are you ... are you ...” She takes in a deep breath. “Lucia! Merida is here!” she screams.

Lucia gets up, walking over and wiping her eyes. The boys pay us no mind; they’re too busy working with their Legos to build a fortress around G.I. Joe. “You’re beautiful!” Lucia sings in a sleepy tone.

“We need to go watch Brave,” Sophie decides, trying to drag us towards the television. I notice she looks just as sleepy as Lucia.

I bend down. “Why don’t you go lay down on the couch. Me and Merida need to get dresses made, so go enjoy the movie.”

“Dresses for a ball?” Lucia asks, her eyes going wide.

Kate, in her ridiculous Irish accent sings, “Yes, a ball!”

Rita can’t contain her laughter when we step away from the kids, ones who are now all occupied. “So, you need dresses made?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “I’m sorry it’s such short notice. Three weeks from now.”

I hand her the blue, silky fabric and the drawing of the dress.

Mrs. Rita smiles wide. “Three weeks is plenty of time, girls. I’ll get your measurements before you leave.”

Forty-One

The next day at practice, we’ve roped both Foster and Ryder into attending rehearsal with us.

We pull into the parking lot to find our guys standing by their motorcycles. Foster is wearing all black, a cigarette tucked between his tattooed fingers. He takes a long drag, blowing it out into the warm air before stomping the butt out under his boot.

He walks over, looking every bit as mysterious and dangerous as a bad boy from a novel. “Ready for this?” He gestures between him and Ryder.

I let out a light laugh, “You’re going to do just fine, I promise.”

He looks around the room. “So, what are we wearing?” Foster asks Grace, a hint of worry in his midnight eyes.

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