by Amare, Mercy
“Hope this is hot enough, Stephan,” I say to my reflection before heading out.
I decide to use the sidewalk to go next door, because walking in heels, in the sand doesn't seem like such a good idea. Before I get up to the house, I hear somebody come up behind me.
“Damn.” I turn around to face Stephan. He's staring at me, with his mouth slightly hanging open, and then he sighs. “I thought you'd wait to look hot until after your little math date with my brother.”
“One, it's not a math date, it's tutoring. If I don't do this, I will fail and be forced to repeat my senior year for the rest of eternity. Two, you and I are going out right after, and I didn't want to change clothes. And three, you're welcome to come. I hear your brother is quite a math genius, and well, you and genius don't fit in the same sentence. I'm sure you could use the help too.”
“Are you going to insult me all night?”
I nod my head. “Probably.”
“Good. It turns me on.” He smiles. “Have fun with my brother.”
“I will.”
“And don't tell Ethan it's not a date. He doesn't know that...”
7:05 pm
Tutoring
Ethan is waiting for me in his room, but I can't stop thinking about Stephan.
“Wow,” Ethan says, motioning towards my outfit. “You look beautiful.”
My heart warms at his comment. He called me beautiful, where his evil stepbrother called me hot. He's sweet. Stephan is a jerk. Why must I have warm, fuzzy feelings for the wrong guy?
“So you're going out with my stepbrother tonight.” It wasn't a question.
“Yeah...” I bite my lip. “I kind of feel bad about the whole black eye thing.”
He nods. “Well, just be careful with him. He tends to get in a lot of trouble.”
“It's sweet that you're trying to be all protective, but trust me when I say I can handle an 18 year old wannabe bad boy.”
“I'm not saying you can't handle him. I'm sure you can, Scarlett. I'm just saying... he might be bad for your good girl image.”
I laugh. I'm far from being a good girl, but he's right, in Hollywood I am considered a good girl. I don't have any DUI's, there are no sex tapes of me, I didn't get pregnant before turning 18, and I haven't posed for Playboy, but I'm definitely not what I would consider good.
“What kind of trouble are we talking about?” I ask. “I gave him a black eye yesterday, and that was just because he updated my Twitter. I think I can handle myself.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Then what do you mean, Ethan?”
“Nothing...” He sighs, and opens his math book. “Let's just study, ok?”
8:15 pm
You can't look hot and be comfortable.
One hour later we are done studying, and I have a major stress headache. I don't feel like I've learned anything new. I'm also pretty sure that math is my kryptonite. Stephan is waiting for me downstairs.
“You probably should have worn more comfortable shoes, Blondie,” Stephan tells me, looking at my four inch stilettos.
“You told me to dress hot. You can't look hot and be comfortable,” I say, shaking my head. Boys.
“You'd look hot in anything...” he pauses, then adds, “or nothing. I'm ok with that option as well. Feel free to take your clothes off.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously, perv, if this is how it's going to be tonight, I will just go home.”
“No, no,” he says. “I'll be good. I promise.”
“Just remember – you will never see me naked. EVER.”
His green eyes once again have me hypnotized. “One day soon, I will prove you wrong. And when I do, I am going to remind you of this very conversation.”
Yeah, it just got hot again.
I look at his car, and can't help but smile. He's driving a 1971 Dodge Challenger. It's black, and I love it. “Seriously, your car is amazing.”
“You like classic cars?” he asks.
“Um, yes! I love them. I'm actually thinking of getting a '69 Boss 429 from my friend Alec. It is candy apple red, and it is beautiful. He fixed it up last year, and it's been sitting in his garage with his other cars. I told him a car like that deserves to be driven.”
“I think you should get it.”
“I think I will.” Stephan opens up the car door for me, and I'm in shock. I look up at him. “You are the only guy who has ever opened the door for me, besides my limo driver.” I get inside. “I'm pretty sure this gives you a ton of extra awesome points.”
“Wow. So you've only been out with jerks.” He shuts my door, and walks around the car. I'm smiling the whole time. He starts the car, and the engine roars to life. The whole car rumbles as it idles in his driveway.
“This is what I love about old cars,” I say. “My Sesto Elemento is so smooth, and sleek, but this... This car is how a sports car should be. I love how I can feel the vibration of the engine.”
I'm seriously turned on by his car.
“A girl who can play the guitar, drives a Lamborghini, and likes classic cars,” he sighs happily. “Where have you been all my life?”
I laugh. “So where are you taking me?”
“It's a surprise,” he says, then takes off squealing his tires. The car jerks as he shifts. It is very different from what I'm used to, but I like it. It makes riding more intense.
“Well, do I at least get to drive your car at some point?” I ask, hopeful.
“Only if I can drive yours.”
“Which one?” I ask.
“You have more than one?” he looks surprised for half a second. “You know, I keep forgetting you're like a millionaire rock star.”
“I'm going to take that as a compliment.”
“So, the car you're thinking of buying,” he starts, “I think you should get it. It would be a great investment. Plus, after tonight, you'll probably want it.”
He turns onto a gravel road that looks like it leads to nowhere. We go down for about 2 miles, then he turns right into a house. It's a small house, but we drive past it and drive for another 5 minutes. I see a sign that says “Jepsen Race Track”. We pull up to a small race track. There are about 20 cars parked around it.
“Racing?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh this isn't where we race,” he smiles. “This is where we practice.”
8:44 pm
Where the hell is Paul Walker?
As we get out of the car, I'm pretty much wondering what he means by they just practice here. It's actually a pretty nice track. And does he race? Or does he just like watching? I'm also wondering if I can get in on the action.
We walk up to a set of bleachers, a few people are sitting there already.
“Stephan!” I hear the group yell.
He grabs my hand, and pulls me behind him. “Hey guys!” He knuckle bumps a few of the guys.
“What happened to your eye?” One of them asks as we get closer.
I step out from behind him. “That was me, actually.”
I wait for them to recognize me, and for them to freak out. I am expecting them to ask for my autograph. But something amazing happens: they don't know me.
“Who is this hottie, and where have you been hiding her?” One of the guys ask, looking me up and down. I'm suddenly wishing I would have wore more clothing.
“This is Scarlett,” he says. “And she's mine, so stay away.”
His words should scare me. I really don't like possessive guys, because I am a girl who can take care of myself. But with Stephan, it's kind of hot that he's telling his friends to stay away from me.
“Anybody who can stand up to Stephan is cool in my book,” a girl holds her hand out to me, and I accept her handshake. “I'm Britney, but my friends call me Brit.”
Britney is about two inches taller than me, even with my four inch heels on. She has chocolate brown eyes, blonde hair, and curves in all the right places.
“Nice to meet you, Brit. You can call me Scar,”
it's what my friends in grade school used to call me, and I really don't want these people to recognize me.
“You look so familiar,” another girl says. “Have you ever gone to west side?”
“No,” I shake my head. “I'm from... not around here.”
“Hmm... I'm sure I'll figure it out,” she smiled. “I'm Ginny.”
Ginny's hair is red, but you can tell it's not natural. It almost looks orange. But bad hair color aside, she's just as beautiful as Britney.
Stephan puts his arm around me. “Hey, will you be ok up here by yourself for a few?”
I nod. “Yeah. I think I will.”
Him and a few of the guys walk down the bleachers. I wonder if I'm going to get to see Stephan race, and if I'm going to get a chance.
“So, are you Stephan's girlfriend?” Britney asks me.
I shake my head. “No way. Are you forgetting that I gave him a black eye?”
Britney and Ginny both laugh. “Please, with Stephan, it probably made him want you more. He's kinky like that.”
“So, do you race?” I ask them, changing the subject off me and Stephan.
“No!” they say in unison.
“It's the guys thing. We just come to support them, and get drunk,” Ginny clarifies. “But mostly to get drunk.”
Music starts blaring out of the speakers lined around the track. It's my song. I look at a big booth by the track, and see Stephan sitting inside. He leans close to the microphone, and is looking at me. “Scarlett for my Scarlett!”
I give him a look that says I'm going to kill you, and he winks.
“Oh my gosh! I love this song!” Ginny says, and then she starts singing along (very badly, I might add. Seriously, I think my ears are bleeding).
Britney rolls her eyes. “It's overplayed. It kills me. Listen to her, she probably can't even sing in real life. She probably slept her way to the top.”
Now I'm pissed. I'm about to smart off, and blow my cover when I hear Stephan's voice. “She's actually really talented,” I hear him say. “Scar, I'm about to race.”
“Can I drive?” I ask.
“You should have brought your car.”
I laugh. “Maybe when I get my Boss. I'm not driving my Lam...” I cough, remembering Ginny and Brit behind me. “Um, never mind. Stephan, you know why I can't bring my car.”
“Well, you aren't driving my car.”
“Can I at least ride with you?” I ask, fluttering my eyelashes at him.
He nods, and I follow him back to his car. Once we're in, I watch him as he pulls his car onto the track. I love his facial expressions, and how they suddenly got very serious the second we pull out onto the track.
“Just so you know,” he says, turning to me, “you can only ride during practice. The actual race is too dangerous.”
This kind of makes me mad. I am stubborn, and hate being told what I can and can't do. “I'm pretty sure I'd be ok. Besides, I'm going to get that car, and I'm going to race myself.”
He shakes his head. “Where I race is no place for you.”
“Well, where do you race?”
“I'll show you. Friday night. I'll pick you up at 11,” he says.
“11 at night?” I confirm.
“Yes,” he nods. “The races usually start around midnight on the west side.”
“West side?” I ask.
He laughs, and then takes off. I lean my head against the back of the seat as he circles around the track. We are the only ones on the track right now, but soon, another car pulls on. We pull up beside them. The guy in the next car nods at Stephan and I want to laugh. What is this? The Fast and the Furious?
A brunette girl that I didn't see before steps out onto the track. She's wearing a pair of skinny jeans, and a tank top. She's kind of hot, in a Kim Kardashian kind of way. And then I realize, this is just like The Fast and the Furious. Now, where the hell is Paul Walker?
She has a flag in her hand. She counts, and waves the flag. Both cars whiz by her, and I'm not thinking about her anymore. I'm sitting with my head against the neck rest watching the track. Stephan cuts right around the first curve, and we are drifting. At first, I think about screaming, but then I realize that I've never had this much fun. It's a total adrenaline rush.
I glance down at Stephan's speedometer. He's currently going 80 MPH, drifting around a curve. I wonder just how fast he has drove this car.
The other guy is ahead of us, but as we go around the second curve, Stephan pulls ahead. We do a few more laps, and Stephan manages to stay ahead... barely. But we win, and I'm pretty sure I'm screaming.
“That was awesome!”
12:43 am
My friends don't like your music.
It's really late when we leave the racetrack, but I'm not tired. I feel exhilarated, and extremely hyper. It's then that I realize, I know this feeling... It's the feeling I get after every performance.
Stephan didn't let me drive his car, but I rode with him during every race. Stephan raced probably five times, and we got to watch about 20 other races. This is definitely my new favorite thing to do.
“Ok, seriously, that was so much fun,” I say, as we leave. “I can't wait to race.”
“That wasn't a race,” he chuckles. “I told you, babe, that was just practice. Wait until Friday night. That's when the real races are.”
I sigh dreamily, and lay back in the seat. “I like your friends.”
“Why is that?” he asks.
“Didn't you notice that not one of them knew me?” I smile. “I can be normal around them. It's pretty awesome.”
“My friends don't like your music,” he admits. “And it's not really you, you're an amazing singer and performer, but all that animated shit kind of takes away from your talent.”
I nod, knowing exactly what he means. “Well, that's part of the reason I wanted to take a break. Every album I record becomes less and less me. I hate what's expected of me. You know, my record company wouldn't even let me dye my hair?”
“I like the blonde,” he smiles. “But it does make you look like a Barbie.”
“I know, right?” I shake my head, thinking about how stupid my life has become. “Did you know that I can play the guitar, bass, and drums?”
“I knew about the guitar from some of your earlier work, but I didn't know about the others. That's impressive.”
“Thanks. Nobody knows because I don't play. They expect me to just sing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love singing, but I want to play!”
“Will you play for me?” he asks. “I'd love to hear your music. Something I've never heard before. Scarlett unplugged.”
“Yeah. I want to play for you,” I agree. “Tomorrow, after school?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Wednesday, September 9
7:45 am
Goodbye, Barbie
Last night, I didn't get home from my date with Stephan until well after one in the morning. I'm used to late nights, but I'm not used to early mornings. And this morning, I hit the snooze button about 15 times too many. I look through my closet and grab a pair of skinny jeans, and a hoodie. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and skip the makeup. I'm too scared to look in the mirror because I know I look hideous.
I run out the door, and am surprised to see that Stephan is parked in my driveway. He's leaning up against his car with his hands in his pockets. The lack of sleep obviously doesn't effect him, cause he looks incredible.
“Stephan.” I'm a little breathless as I say his name.
“Scarlett,” he smiles. “Want a ride?”
I nod as I walk to his car. I slide into his passenger seat, and suddenly wish I would've taken the time to fix my makeup.
“You look good,” he says as we take off. “Less like Barbie.”
I look at him for a few seconds before responding, “I'm not sure if that is supposed to be a compliment or not.”
“Oh, it's a compliment.”
“I'm pretty sure today is the first day I've gone
without makeup since I was 14 years old,” I admit to him. “If only my mom could see me now, she'd have a cow.”
“Where are your parents?” he asks.
“My dad is in Los Angeles. He's my manager and refuses to accept the fact that I'm taking a break,” I explain. “And my mother, well, I think she's at my house in Europe. Her and my father can't stand to be in the same country as each other.”
“So, why are you taking a break?”
Why is a very good question. One that I'm not exactly sure how to answer without being too personal.
“I am just reevaluating my life. I'm not sure that music is what I want anymore,” I admit. “I mean, don't get me wrong, I love music. Music is my life. But, being a rock star isn't exactly what I thought it would be. I'm under so much pressure to just be perfect, and I can't do it anymore.”
“So if not music, what do you want with your life?” he asks.
Another good question. “I have no idea. I honestly have never dreamed of doing anything else. Maybe I will go to college.”
“You don't seem like the college type, no offense, because I'm definitely not the college type either,” he says. “Not that college isn't good for people like my brother, but you and me, we were destined for more.”
“Do you really believe in destiny?” I ask.
He nods. “I think I do.”
12:02 pm
You like her.
I really didn't think that my math tutor session did any good, but today during math I actually understand some of it. I know that I still have a long way to go, but Ethan says he's willing to help me until I get it.
“When can you tutor me again?” I ask Ethan as we walk to lunch. The whole walk there, I'm wondering if Stephan will eat with us or not. I should have asked him in Study Hall.
“I need to study for a chem test tonight,” he says. “Tomorrow?”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
“Scarlett,” I hear a voice. I turn around to see a brunette girl come up to me. She's wearing a cheerleading uniform. Her eyes stand out to me. They're the same color of green as Stephan's. The girl is kind of beautiful.
