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Loud music and bright, neon lights first greeted Clove as she pulled up in her car. It wasn't an unusual scene; in fact, it was expected on nights like tonight – nights were everyone's nerves stood on end and adrenaline coursed through their bloodstreams.
That adrenaline was like a drug, it was addictive and euphoric – especially when you won. Clove was a winner; she always had been. She had practised over and over again before her first ever race, Clove had been lucky that she had a friend who was willing to put n the time with her; it all paid off too, she had won that very first race and she had been chasing that high ever since.
She parked her car amongst the sea of other kitted out cars, the bright pink 1998 Honda Civic stood out amongst the Mazda's and Nissans. Clove took a deep breath in; the late-night air was tinged with the smell of weed. Clove knew from experience that wasn't gonna be the only drug used tonight.
Clove wasn't a stranger to drugs or alcohol, and as bad as it might sound to others; she liked them, they made her feel good. She had taken them a lot after her first race, desperate for that rush of emotion to consume her all the time; it had worked for a bit – cocaine in particular. It had stopped working though, or rather, Clove realised that winning was what had given her the rush – she liked how quick it all was, how life flashed past in the blink of the eye.
She quickly got lost on the mass of people all milling about. A few people moved out of her way the closer she got the starting line, she was a familiar face around here, a known winner. Newcomers tended to stick put like a sore thumb.
The next half-an-hour passed by quickly. She negotiated when she was going to race and who against, she got passed a joint and had taken a swig of vodka from a bottle before passing it along, and then she moved back through the crowd and back to where her car waited for her.
Clove climbed back into the driving seat; the customised interior made her smile a bit. She had worked hard to get this car exactly how she wanted it; it had taken a lot of money and even more time, but it was finished now.
She turned the key and revved the engine, edging forward slowly and through the crowds that now parted like the red sea for her. Clove supposed it was less biblical and more so that they didn't want to get run over by a bright pink car with hello kitty shaped taillights and fluffy pink dice hanging from the mirror.
The car moved through the crowd quickly and soon Clove found herself back at the starting line, lined up next to the tree other cars she would be racing against.
She wound her windows down and looked down the line at the men she would be racing against. Clove could probably count on one hand how many other girls were in the game, she had made friends with almost all of them over the years; the rest didn't race all too often or just didn't talk to her.
Clove had to admit that racing was mainly male dominated, she didn't mind too much though – it made their shock at her wins all the more satisfying.
