What happens when a finger painting prodigy hitches a ride from a disfigured biker? Why chaos of course!
Quirky, oddball Georgie is anything but normal. For years she hasn't only suffered from a lack of filter but she also has "episodes." She can't...
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Amber's black crop top that's supposed to be tight fitting is awkwardly baggy on me and not even a crop top. Although when I raise my hands my tummy shows, but that won't be happening, especially since I don't have a toned or even flat tummy. What can I say? I love snacking and I refuse to give it up.
I'm young, I can.
Her torn up jeans literally fall off my hips but I'm lucky enough to find a belt to hold them up. All in all, I look like an awkward teen who doesn't know her proper clothing size. I'm not complaining though since I ran out of clothes and had to rummage through Amber's spares she keeps at home.
Dad waits for me on his roaring bike. He's mad at me for going but it was either take me there or I'd walk. I skip down the steps pulling my shirt down just to make sure no belly shows. My backpack full of art supplies keeps causing it to ride up, and no, I never go anywhere without my stash of materials.
He hands me a helmet which I snap on my wet damp hair and then slide behind him. As soon as my arms wrap around him, he's off and boy is riding a bike fun. The wind howls all around me and I sit up straighter loving the freedom and thrill.
We ride until we hit a dirt road and I hold on tighter as the smooth ride becomes maliciously bumpy. I see glimpses of the racetrack peeking behind the tall trees. We pull into a very loud and massive racetrack. The massive Salvation Speedway sign stands tall and proud. The same eagle that is splayed on the cuts is arching its wings around the sign.
Loud music blares from cars with their trunks popped open, showcasing their engines and I feel like I stepped into a Fast and the Furious movie. There are neon lights and hordes of people strutting their stuff and girls looking at all the cars in sleazy outfits, acting fascinated as the men puff up with pride.
The place is jammed pack and Dad parks his bike next to everyone from the Salvation's and I only know that because of the cuts they're all wearing. Plus, I see Archie. He isn't hard to pick out.
Getting off and removing the helmet I ask, "Where's the ticket booth?"
Dad laughs. "You don't pay. Only nonmembers pay."
I cock a brow. "I thought I wasn't a part of your little club?"
He gets off his bike and stores the helmet away. "You're not but you're family."
Looking around I don't see Adonis or any of the younger guys, just all the fifty and older ones with I'm guessing their old ladies.
"Queenie!" Dad shouts as he ushers me over to the tall woman standing next to Archie. "I'd like you to meet my daughter Georgie."
A woman with a large smile that goes all the way to those wrinkles at the corner of her eyes, comes over. She has thick black wool like hair and matching eyes. Her smile is contagious and I find myself easily giving one back and shaking her outstretched hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Georgie. Name's Queenie."
