The Secret of Ella and Micha(28)

He traces the figure eight tattoo on his forearm. "Do you remember when I got this?"

I absentmindedly touch my lower back. "How could I forget, since I have the same one on my back?"

"Do you remember why we got them?"

"I can't remember anything about that night."

"Exactly, yet you'll remember it forever. No matter what happens, which is completely ironic." He lets his finger linger on the tattoo that represents eternity.

"There's something bugging you." I tug the bottom of my shirt down to cover up my tattoo. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head, still focused on the tattoo. "Nah, I'm good."

To distract him from his thoughts, I point my finger at a smokin' hot 1970 Pontiac GTO, blue with white racing stripes. "What about Benny? Does he still have the 455?"

Micha's eyes are pools of black liquid. "You think we should take on the big dog?"

"I think you should take on the big dog," I clarify. "I'll just watch you kick his ass."

His expression darkens. "No way. I'm not racing unless you're in the car with me. It's tradition."

A starvation inside me emerges. "Alright, I'll ride with you, just as long as you do one thing for me?"

"Say it and it's yours," he says without blinking.

My hunger urges me closer to him. I prop my elbows on the console, and my arms are trembling. He doesn't move, frozen like a statue as I put my lips next to his ear.

"Make sure you win," I breathe and my body arches into him on its own accord, before I sit back in the seat.

His face is indecipherable, his breathing fierce, his gaze relentless. "Okay, then. Let's go win us a race."

We climb out of the car and hike across the dirt road toward the row of cars and their owners. I shield my eyes from the headlights and wrap an arm around myself, knowing these guys are going to give me crap for how I'm dressed.

Micha swings his arm around me protectively. "Relax. I got you baby."

"Well, what do we have here?" Mikey, the owner of the Camaro, strides up to us. He's got black hair, a kink in his nose, and his thick neck is enclosed with a barb-wire tattoo. "Is the infamous duo back again to get their asses kicked?"

I roll my eyes. "You beat us once and that was by default due to a flat tire."

His face pinches as he takes in my shirt, tank top, and curled hair. "What the f*ck happened to you?"

Chandra, his girlfriend, sputters a laugh. Her dress is so tight that her curves bulge out of it and her stilettoes make her almost the same height as me. "Holy shit, she like turned into a little princess or something."

Micha squeezes my shoulder, trying to keep me calm. "So who's up first? Or has no one decided yet."

Mikey eyes Micha's Chevelle and there's a nervous look in his eyes. "You think you can just walk in here and play the game after sitting out for nearly a year?"

I mouth to Micha, a year?

Micha shrugs. "What? You were gone. Why the hell would I want to race?"

"Again, you need to move on without..." I trail off. Mikey will use what I say against Micha, so I have to watch my mouth. "We want to race Benny."

Mikey's laughter echoes the night. "You and what army?"

I point at Micha's Chevelle parked near the road. "That army right there."

Mikey shakes his head and shoos us away. "That thing don't stand a chance against the GTO. Now run along and come back when you got something bigger."

He's testing my control. A lot.

"As opposed to yours?" I retort, getting into Mikey's face. "Because that thing's all looks and no go."

Micha directs me back by the shoulders and a trace of amusement laces his voice. "Easy there, tiger. Let's try not to get our asses kicked tonight, okay?"

Benny hops off the hood of his car, flicks his cigarette to the ground, and leaves his buddies to join us. "What's up? Did I hear someone wanted to race me?"

Benny's the kind of guy that everyone respects because they're afraid of him. When he was a freshman he got into a fight at school with a senior twice his size and beat him up pretty badly. No one knows what the fight was over or what happened, but it was enough that everyone became cautious of Benny.

Mikey points a finger sharply at me. "Princess right here wants to challenge you to a race in that thing."

Benny's eyes wander to the Chevelle as he cocks his shaven head and crosses his muscular arms. "Micha, isn't that your car?"

Micha pats my back and winks at me. "Yeah, apparently she's my spokesperson."

Benny deliberates this and then turns to Mikey, who's glaring at me. "I don't see what the big deal is. I have no problem with Micha racing. In fact, it might be kinda nice to have a challenge for a change." Benny slaps Mikey on the back kind of hard and then pounds fists with Micha.

"Thanks man," Micha says with a respective nod. "Are you and I going to line up first then?"

Benny bobs his head up and down, nodding as he stares at the road pensively. "Yeah man, I think that'd work."

They chat a little bit more about the rules and what not, while Mikey continues to scowl at me like an angry dog. Once they're done talking, Micha and I walk back to the car, while everyone else scatters toward the starting line located right in front of The Hitch.