Page 3 of Pedal to the Metal

Londynn

Its late afternoon by the time Alivia and Creed drop me back off at my house. As I enter, I notice the house is still silent which isn't too shocking since its Friday night.My parents will be lucky to make it home in the early morning hours, if at all.I'm slowly making myway up the stairs when Farrah's ringer goes off. As soon as I answer Farrah is talking. “Okay, I'll be there in about forty-five minutes then we are going out for the night. Dress hot! Love ya doll!" After that the line disconnects but this isn't shocking either.

Farrah has always marched to the beat of her own drum, much to our parent’s dismay. She wasn't one to be told what to do, she was carefree and fun loving. Farrah didn't care if she disappointed anyone as long as she made herself happy. As soon as she graduated high school and turned eighteen, she cashed in her trust fund, moving it to another bank so my parents couldn't control it. She packed up her room, rented a studio apartment and started working at a boutique. She had peeled out of the driveway in her black Range Rover with her middle finger in the air and platinum blonde hair in the wind and never looked back.

My parents had basically disowned her except for social events and holidays. Even though I was sure my parent’s nonchalance had hurt Farrah, she didn't show it. She had carried on like the trooper she is. I'd always admired how tenacious she was. As I enter my room I decide to shower quickly before she arrives. After showering and dressing I step out of my bathroom to find Farrah lying across my bed on her back, reading a fashion magazine. Her deep blue eyes take in my appearance and frowns.

"What?" I ask sounding more defensive than I meant to.

My tone doesn't go unnoticed because her frown only deepens as she rolls over onto her stomach. “I said to dress hot, not like we’re going to the country club."

Looking down I take in my outfit, yellow and black floral skirt that hits above the knee with a black silk top and black heels. I had pulled my hair into a low side ponytail. “What's wrong with what I have on?"

"You look like you're going off to prep school," she says as she rises from the bed. I look her over. She has on a pair of skintight jeans and black leather halter top with a pair of black stilettos. Her long platinum blonde hair hangs in long curls with half of it pulled back. Her makeup is heavy with fake eyelashes and a ton of eyeliner but that's her normal. Once she’s standing in front of me, she holds out a bag for me to take.

"What's this?" I ask as I take the bag from her hand.

"This doll is an outfit that won't make you stick out like a sore thumb. Where were going you can't go dressed like that," she says motioning her red tipped nails in my direction. She ushers me into the bathroom before she starts helping me strip off the clothes.

"Where are we going Farrah?" I ask while she starts pulling the contents from the bag out.

"We" she says motioning between us, “Are going out," she starts handing me the clothes and I put them on without protest. After I'm dressed, she sits me down while she teases my straight hair before placing a black ribbon headband in it. Moving on to my makeup she adds dark eye shadow and tons of mascara and eyeliner. “Man, I'd kill for your lashes. If I had yours, I wouldn't have to glue these on every day," she says motioning to her own eyelashes. She stands back and pushes me towards my full-length mirror. “Now, we can go out."

Standing in the mirror I'm a little speechless. Farrah dressed me in something I loved but would never have been allowedto wear. Skinny light wash jeans that were ripped up, a simple black tee that was maybe a little too tight in my opinion and a pair of black wedges. I wasn't sure what to make of this outfit, but I liked it, a lot. Farrah claps when she notices the smile on my face then she grabs my hand and pulls me down the stairs to her Range Rover.

Farrah is dancing and singing along as we make our way through L.A. It dawns on me that I don't even know where were going and I'm about to ask when Farrah turns down the music and glances at me. “You okay Londynn?" I give her a smile and nod, but she doesn't seem appeased. “Londynn you've been home all of one afternoon and you already seem miserable again."

"I'm not miserable."

She huffs, “Really Londynn? I don't buy that, you are miserable. Livingyourlife based on someone else's expectations will make you miserable. You have got to learn to live for yourself."

I take a deep breath and count to five like I've learned to keep my emotions in check. “Farrah, not everyone is you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks, and I can hear the hurt laced through her voice.

I shrug, “It means not everyone is as brave as you are. Not everyone just gives up the life that's been given to them."

"Given to you? Londynn, your life has been prepared for you. It wasn't given to you. From the time each of us were born our so-called parents planned out our lives, where we'd go to school, what activities we'd be involved in, what we'd wear, who'd we date and marry, what college and profession, all of it Londynn. All of it, not a single decision aboutourlives, was actually ours. I didn't wantmylife to be controlled bythem,"she says, and I can see that her neck has a flush to it. Whenever her neck has aflush, it means she's really worked up. I wish I could be as strong as Farrah but I'm not.

"I know what you're saying is true but I'm not you. I'm like Duke," I say feeling defeated while the gnawing in the pit of my stomach returns.

"You are not like Duke. Duke is a walking, talking clone of our father. You are not mom or dad; I can see it in you but you're too scared to let go. You're too scared to disappoint them, you can't be afraid of that."

"I don't know Farrah."

"Okay, obviously I've made my point but I'm just going to keep pushing you, or maybe I'll get lucky, and you'll find something or someone to light a fire under your ass and you'll do it on your own," she says nudging me my shoulder before making a kissy face at me.

Laughing and shaking my head I ask, “So, what are we doing tonight?"

"It's a Friday night in L.A. were going to do what everyone else is doing besides going to the club." She says avoiding my question, but I already know the answer. In L.A. on a Friday night there's really only two things most people our age does, either go out clubbing or to a party and the other is go to the street races. If we’re not going clubbing, then were going to the street races and I don't know how I feel about that. Ryce is for sure going to be there, he races every week, has since he's gotten his license. He also loses every week to one of the James brothers.

"Farrah" I say in a warning tone.

"What?" she asks in her most innocent voice, batting her eyelashes at me.

I let out a heavy sigh, “I can't go to the races. What if is Ryce there?"

"What if he is?" she asks, shrugging her shoulders.

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