Page 17 of Race to Me

The tight black dress stops mid-thigh, and the boots rise to my knees. “I look like a prostitute version of Ariana Grande.”

She flips her hair, saying, “Well, you like Ariana.”

“True,” I agree, studying myself some more. I don’t want to risk going to my house for another change of clothes. My parent’s flight left about an hour ago, but it’s the opposite way of the strip. “Screw it. What’s it gonna hurt?”

“That’s the spirit.” Kate retouches her makeup while I start mine, being careful to not get anything on the dress.

My phone chimes, and a text comes through.

Foster: ‘You and your boyfriend looked cute tonight.’

Boyfriend? Does he mean Brett? Was he here? I don’t reply. Instead, I put mascara on. Another message comes through.

Foster: ‘Gonna leave me on read? Okay, Sky.’

I sigh, tossing my phone into my bag. Kate whistles, saying, “What’s got you worked up?”

Shaking my head, I spritz on some perfume. “Nothing, I’m ready. So, what’s this like?”

We head down the empty hallway. The school is so different at night, it’s peaceful. Absent of the chaotic noises of hundreds of students shuffling to get to class on time. “I’ve only been a couple of times, but it’s pretty straightforward. They race, we drink, then the cops break it up.” She shrugs.

I stiffen. “I don’t want any trouble, Kate.”

With a laugh, she twirls her crimson hair. “We don’t get in trouble, they do. Unless,” A mischievous grin spreads across her lips. “They outrun them.”

I try to imagine myself running from cops, and my heart thumps in my chest at the idea of something so dangerous. I could never.

I pull out my phone once more on the way to my car. There are no more texts, but I see where Foster saw me and Brett looking cute: Instagram. We look like the popular couple in high school, and stadium lights beam behind us as Brett kisses my cheek. My palm is flat against his chest, and a manufactured smile sparkles on my face.

Could Foster perhaps be a little jealous? I double tap the photo and leave a heart emoji for good measure.

∞∞∞

We soon pull up to Bike Night. Cars and motorcycles are scattered around, and people flood the strip. Warm Miami summer heat sweeps across my face when I open my car door.

As soon as my heels hit the dark pavement, I cut my head to the mechanical sound of roaring thunder to my left.

With every intention of making my presence known to Foster that I’m here, I scope the area for him. He damn sure can’t tell me I’m not allowed to come to Bike Night when he doesn’t even have enough respect for me to get his jacket back on his own.

Kate fixes her dress, checking her red lipstick out in the mirror. “You look beautiful.” I remind her, taking a lock of her hair in my finger and twirling it to help the bounce of her curls.

She smiles, leaning close to me. “I’m so excited you came out with me. You never do this.”

I nod, intertwining my arm through hers. “Well, I’m looking for some change in my life.” I admit.

She looks to the ground, replying, “I also have something to tell you,” When my brow raises, she continues, “It’s still a girl’s night, okay? So, don’t get mad.”

I shake my head, confused. “I won’t.”

“Promise?” she begs, her lip puckering out.

I roll my head back. “Jesus, Kate. What is it?”

“I’ve kind of been talking to someone, and he’s here tonight.” She blushes.

I laugh and ask, “Is that all? Another hook-up?”

A bike speeds past us, and I jump back from the sudden sound. “No, I’ve gotten to know him … Like actually know him. His name’s Ryder.”