be present, you disappear!”
We all turn to look at Roxy. I notice the way she holds Avery’s stare, her chest moving up and down so fast, I swear, her heart is pounding.
“As if I’ll ever lower myself to be with that manwhore.” Roxy tosses her blonde locks over her shoulder as she straightens from leaning against my car, now looking at me. I almost smile but look away instead. “Why would I waste my time talking about him, of all people?”
“Maybe because your eyes practically widen and your face pales when his name is mentioned around you,” Char says, then turns around whistling. “Let’s go, bitches!”
“Can I ride with you?” Kristine rushes to ask as Avery and Roxy turn to go after Charlotte. At her question, both of them stop and stare at her, making the poor girl shrink right in front of them.
“No thanks, Keisha,” Charlotte calls over her shoulder. “Our car’s full.”
I feel so bad for Kristine. Before I can say anything, a metallic silver Range Rover Sport pulls up with a senior jock in front. He rolls down the window and shouts, “Ladies, your ride awaits!”
“I thought you dumped Chad yesterday?” Roxy starts, glancing at Charlotte.
“Uh, and have my Dad send his driver to chaperone me? No way.” Charlotte shoots me wink. “See you at the track, Ice Queen! Oh and, sit with us!”
“You know, it’ll be beneficial for you to get your own license, Char,” Avery giggles, “But we all know how much you love to be driven around by your sexy bodyguard. Later, beautiful Mia. Good-bye, Kelly.”
“It’s…” Kristine starts, her voice angry.
“Love, just let that one go,” Roxy cuts her off, a protective, hard glint in her eyes. No one messes with Roxy’s friends. As soon as Kristine realizes that Roxy is talking to her directly, the anger melts back to awe.
“I like your top, where did you get that from?” Roxy asks her.
“Oh,” Kristine blinks, that panic back in her eyes. “This is Neiman Marcus.”
“Wow,” Roxy frowns delicately, her voice still airy and soft. “I could’ve sworn I saw that on an ugly mannequin that looked just like you in Ross’s display window at the mall last week.”
Kristine’s face grows redder than a tomato, but she doesn’t say anything. Tongue tied and all.
“It’s cute though. I guess I won’t be shopping at Neiman’s anymore.” Roxy flips her hair over her shoulder as she turns to go, the backdoor of the Range Rover open and waiting for her. “Later, Ice Queen.”
“Holy shit, you’re totally in with the R.A.C.K!” Kristine exclaims the moment the girls are gone.
“Uh, I hardy think so, Kristine. They don’t like me,” I start, walking over to the driver’s side as Kristine gets in the passenger seat.
“But they talked to you. They came over to you!”
She drones on and on when I get in. Starting the car, I follow the parade of cars that will lead to the secret track.
“We can finally attend all the big parties. And now that you’re back to your old, mean normal self, we can finally be on top next year! We’re going to rock as seniors.”
I want to tell her not to get her hopes up, but the incessant buzzing of my phone reminds me that my life is hanging on by a thin thread at home, I don’t need to add her shit on top of that.
11
Soon, we get to the track. There are a lot of cars parked, all expensive cars that could so easily pay for the house we’re about to lose.
There’s a large bonfire in the middle of a large clearing a little way from the actual track, with girls dancing provocatively to the music blasting from somewhere unknown.
The track is an old strip of abandoned road that connects to the main road that sits at the very edge of the cliffs, perfectly designed for a Fast and Furious movie set. One wrong maneuver and you’ll find yourself plastered colorfully on the rocky cliffs below, with the ocean washing away your pathetic existence.
“That’s dangerous,” I point out. “The streetlamps aren’t even working properly. They don’t show the danger below.”
“Mia, that’s why they call it The Devil’s Track!” Kristine says. She’s excited as hell, her eyes lit up, though I think that’s because she’s high on something. “Oh, and I heard that Shane wants to talk to you before the race.”
It’s the third time she’s said that, giving me an eye that makes shivers race down my spine.
“Is he racing?” I question, just