"Michael... no."

He pulled away slightly and dipped his head to look at me.

"I just... not now, not yet," I hesitated.

"Okay," he replied with a monotone voice, hiding any disappointment that might have been there. The dim light on the porch made it difficult to see what emotions were traced upon his face. He must've noticed my uneasy gaze because he said again, "It's okay, Lis," in a gentler voice.

He drew his grasp off of my waist and held my hands, lingering for a second. I could almost feel the reversal of his attraction towards me happening in the moment. 

Maybe agreeing to this date wasn't the best idea. Maybe I'm meant to find a turtle-like boyfriend who will watched the extended Lord of the Rings movies with me and hold my hand, insisting our first kiss be on our twentieth date at the library. The thoughts echoed back and forth within my mind. They weren't exactly thoughts, just more like cowardly blasphemies and excuses; something I'm quite good at, actually.

"I'm sorry," I finally let out in an apologetic whisper.

"Don't be sorry. I'll follow your lead from now on," he assured. A red light went off in my brain, flashing the big "no" sign, reminding me of my utter want to always be the follower instead of the leader. If this is going to be a relationship, and he's going to follow my lead, then we'll being getting married at forty. 

I managed to give a nod before stepping away from the awkward moment. I'm positive it was awkward because every time he said something, my face probably divulged into a deep thinking expression, as I supposedly took a minute to muster up a reply. 

Michael said goodnight and after giving a vague, absent-minded response, I sneaked into the house and immediately threw off my heels. This caused a few soft thuds to sound out on the rug. 

"Lissa?" a voice called out from the kitchen. Dad walked into the foyer with a brownie in his hands, dropping crumbs as he tore half and put it in his mouth.

"Hey Dad," I masked a carefree tone over my senselessly worried state of mind from the previous minutes. 

"Hi honey," he said, glancing at the heels recently thrown on the floor, "How'd it go?"

Taking off my jacket, I tossed it on the stair railing and looked at my phone. It was 11 o'clock. "Good Dad, it went really good. I'm just tired. I think I'll go to bed."

"Alright sweetie, get some rest," he said understandingly. 

I had such chill parents. As much as my life was most decidedly not overly glamorous, I did have a family that loved me—even if it was just my mom and dad. 

They got married twenty-some years ago in Missouri and moved to Indianapolis so Dad could get the race car mechanic position he'd been working towards. And here I was following in his footsteps. I guess if I did have a choice I still wouldn't have it any other way.

After stepping into his bear-like embrace for a moment, I pattered upstairs, wishing everything was as simple as those heartfelt hugs. 

~~~

Waking up late on Monday morning, I rushed to get dressed and head to the Speedway. The past weekend had been everything but refreshing. In between stressing over the date I had with Michael and it's uncertain aftermath, I spent most of Saturday and Sunday doing school, along with the aforementioned theme.

"Why hello dear, haven't seen you in a while," Sierra said with simple directness as I hurried through the check-in office.

"Hey. Sorry, running late," I panted out of breath and tried to walk past her before she caught me in a conversation.

"I heard you went on a date with Mister Albertson the other night." Too late.

Although annoyed at the interruption, curiosity got the better of me and my feet stood stationary for a second as I looked at her. "How did you hear that?"

"Darlin', you know everyone knows everything about everybody around here," was her vague explanation.

I let out a sharp, frustrated sigh in response. People couldn't keep to themselves even if their life depended on it. Upon realizing that someone else had known about our date, I presumed the culprit too easily. 

"Devin."

"Devin? Oh no, it was Michael. He told Nicole about it."

At this revelation my face involuntarily slipped into a shocked and disgusted expression. "What do you mean he told Nicole about it?"

"Lis, honey, they're coworkers. Of course he would mention it."

"But why?" I questioned stupidly.

A phone rang and she picked it up, mouthing something to me that I couldn't decipher. 

I glanced at the time on my watch and hurried out the door. Failing to adjust to the blinding sun, my view suddenly darkened as I crashed into a firm body. The body didn't budge, and instead, let me fall to the ground. My mind began going through the possibilities and scenarios of what I was about to do to this person, depending on who it was. 

"Whoa, watch it there, Lissa." 

I shaded my eyes from the sun and looked up into the tanned face of Brandon Oakes. "What are you doing?" came out more harsh than I meant. I hesitantly accepted his muscular hand as he pulled me off the ground.

"I was looking for you, as a matter of fact. You're late," he stated. 

"Late for what?" I asked incredulously, "I thought you were on schedule to be on the track right now."

"I am, and someone wasn't here to fill me up with gas when I started, so I need gas now," he replied slowly yet impatiently.

Already starting to walk towards the track, I began my complaining. "Is there no possible way for a man to fill up his own car? Or at least check to see if he needs gas before assuming he doesn't? For crying out loud, did you not even notice the gauge go to empty?" 

His gray eyes flickered in slight amusement, but he kept quiet and ignored my comments. I was actually grateful that he didn't try and deflect them—like someone else I know would. 

After raiding a rack of gas cans, I filled each of them up as he watched me place them on a rolling cart and push it out on the track. "Where is she?" I asked, referring to his car.

He pointed to the race car that was now in our view. "Turn one."

We made the walk down to turn one and Brandon watched me again as I lifted the heavy cans and poured fuel into the car. He must've learned his manners from Devin, I thought while in the process of scowling. 

Jogging back to the Alley, I made my way down the strip of garages and listened keenly to a low rumble that began to present itself. Having trained mechanic's ears, I immediately recognized it wasn't any car you'd normally hear around a speedway. 

My suspicions were confirmed when a red 1955 Ford Thunderbird pulled out from a private garage. With squinted eyes, I tried to see who was driving the Thunderbird—or as my dad's always called them; the Thunderchicken. 

The tinted window shield made it difficult to see. But observing the passenger side I contrived a suntanned woman, laughing like there was no tomorrow. Her platinum blonde hair fell short at the shoulders, and a very non-feminine looking hand reached behind her neck. As the car's movement jerked and gradually pulled closer, the distracted driver's face revealed a dimpled smirk. 

Devin. 

Then the old Thunderbird accelerated and sped by, blowing a stray leaf to my feet. I thought of the other day, when Nicole proudly planted a kiss on his lips, like she was claiming to the world her rightful possession. Even so, the lingering moment of sympathy faded quickly as I recalled Michael naming off all the guys she had dated in the past year.

They're both players, they're both cheap, and neither of them deserve a single grain of sympathy, I determined. For another minute or two, I stood on the black asphalt and followed the red car as it left the ground quarters. 

Impeding on my mock scrutiny, an arm enveloped around my small back, pulling me into a hug and causing an intuitive retaliation. I elbowed the intruder in the stomach, feeling their abs quickly engage. 

"Jeez, Lissa!"

"Michael!" I looked up into his offended expression with surprise. So much for following my lead. Too many men are taking me by surprise today. I swear, by the end of the day I'm going to unconsciously ninja chop anyone who comes within a five-foot radius of me. 

"What was that for?" he exclaimed comically, his bright brown eyes questioning me in staggered confusion.

"Oh cheese and crackers Michael, I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you."

"It's alright," his voice relaxed and he let out an unsure laugh. The laugh was either generated by my pathetic word choice of "cheese and crackers," or my equally pathetic attempt at trying to hurt a maybe-predator with my wimpy elbow. Either way, he went on with a straight face. "Want to go for a walk?"

"I have to get going on work but you can walk me to the garage," I offered. 

"Sure, let's go," he said and ventured to place his arm around my shoulders, this time not getting attacked when doing so. 

I noticed he was wearing nice dress pants and a maroon polo shirt, while my tiny figure was swallowed up in a dark jumpsuit with the sleeves rolled up. Nicole's short skirt flashed before my mind and faded into the carefree, blonde woman laughing in Devin's car. 

The taunting imagery went away as I started focusing on Michael's hand gently resting on me. Although my short height allowed his arm to cascade perfectly around my shoulder, I felt so out of place walking alongside him. It made me wonder. Did I even have a place? Is this meant to be the life of Larissa Taylor; the girl forever taken in out of pity, a lost wildflower among a field of roses? Or as life seems to be screaming out at me: I'm a turtle in a world full of hares. Of course, turtle and hares. Flowers are much too sweet and sophisticated for me. 

It was after these fleeting thoughts that my brain seemed to pause, bracing itself for an unexpected—

~~~

Just a note that the next chapter may not be up by next Friday. I have a boatload of school to finish within the next two weeks (thank you homeschooling), and I've been drowning in papers. So yes, I'm ashamed to report that this chapter was a product of procrastination. =P Anywho, I will still try to get it written and ready by next week—especially since I left you with another cliffhanger haha. Thanks for reading and remember to vote if you liked it! -elle grace ♥