Chapter 21: Determination and Confidence

< Shirley >
I went back to my seat in the audience after my brief meeting with Dylan.
"Did you meet him?" Eric questioned while eating his popcorn.
"Of course. You know I have my way—" I paused, realizing what I was blurting out. "What are you talking about?" I looked at him as if he had grown two heads.
"You really met Dylan Lewiston?" He narrowed his eyes at me, and I let out a nervous laugh.
"Of course not." I waved my hand in dismissal.
"I thought so," he said and turned his head towards Violet, making me release a sigh. I was really hating not being able to tell my friends about knowing Dylan.
I puffed my cheeks and glanced at the speedways where many stock cars were parked in serial at the starting line. It was a 51 laps arena race. Considering at what speed every one would be driving, I doubted it would take that long to finish the race. However, the longer, the better, and the more thrilling.
While my eyes were hovering around the arena, I suddenly felt someone's eyes on me. I turned my neck so fast in that direction, it could have broken, yet there was no one. Maybe it was my mind's mistake as everyone has their eyes set on the starting line with anticipation. I noticed a movement in the back, just then many shrill screams echoed throughout the arena, which made me press my hands on my ear.
I decided not to look around anymore and gazed at the racers, who had arrived at the starting line and were standing near their respective cars. I glanced at every participant, searching for Dylan, even though every one of them was unrecognizable since they were all wearing helmets. But I could tell which one was Dylan. I just could. I didn't know why.
Not long after that, all of their names were announced, and the thrilling race finally began. The environment around me got pumped up, so did I. It felt even more exciting than all the times I watched through the big screen of my TV.
Everyone was cheering for their favorite racers, and the commenter was hyped up as always There were twenty-two stock sports cars participating. I was cheering for Dylan when my phone started buzzing. I ignored it and concentrated on the race.
But suddenly... BOOM!
I closed my eyes immediately as one of the participants crashed at the boundary and the car exploded. Emergency aid rushed to help 'cause it was on fire, whereas the race went on. Another car lost control and bumped into the boundary, making me feel bad for them. The videos never gave such accidents much screen time.
"Oh, my God, it's so dangerous! Why would anyone want to become a racer?" A woman who was sitting behind me exclaimed, her mouth covered with her palms.
My phone again vibrated inside my pocket.
"Shirl, you still want to be a car racer?" Grace asked with teary eyes as she was worried about the ones whose car crashed. She was very sensitive to such things, so I squeezed her hand and nodded.
I turned my gaze back to the race. Dylan's car was on lead, followed by Aiden's one. The 47th lap was going on. I sighed as my eyes followed their cars. I wanted to be in that position; somewhere in the lead, the first woman to win an international car race. I was determined about it and nothing was going to change that.
I could again feel the vibration coming from my phone, but I was least worried about that since I was busy praying for Dylan's safety. I knew he was the best racer around, yet that didn't stop me from worrying because accidents could happen to anyone, anytime.
The race was coming to an end. The environment was dead silent, filled with anticipation since everyone was holding their breaths. During the 50th lap, Aiden's car was maintaining a neck-to-neck battle with Dylan's car, but the way Dylan accelerated the speed at a rough turn, made my heart skip a beat because that was damn reckless. He could have freaking died if the car didn't make a proper turn at that point.
The car that was maintaining the fourth position tried to overtake the third one, and he was almost successful. However, when he touched the boundary, his speed dropped, letting fifth and six cross him.
"What a turndown for the 4th one," Eric muttered. I was about to nod, but just then the whistles went off and victorious gunshots were heard. Screams echoed throughout the arena as the race came to an end, and I already knew who the winner was without even looking at the finishing line.
While all the commotion was going on, I took out my phone and checked the texts. These stupid texts were so annoying, they didn't even let me enjoy properly.
I frowned when I saw the familiar-yet-unfamiliar contact ID.
Mr. Creepy Stalker: "Hey, princess. Enjoying the race, aren't you? I hope you have fun."
I rolled my eyes. If he wanted me to enjoy it, then he wouldn't have texted, to begin with.
Mr. Creepy Stalker: "It's rude not to reply. But since I love you so much, I will let it slide.
Aww, that poor racer. Your friend's condition would have been like him if you hadn't saved him last night."
I again rolled my eyes and continued reading the next texts.
Mr. Creepy Stalker: "You are Dylan Lewiston's supporter, aren't you?"
Mr. Creepy Stalker: "As a matter of fact, I already know, you are a Dylan Lewiston supporter. You have been learning how to be a car racer from him, aren't you?"
Did I make that obvious for him to notice?
"Shirl, c'mon, it's over. We are leaving," Richard informed and pulled me by the arm. I went along with them, still distracted by the texts. But once I saw Dylan making his way out discreetly, I forgot all about it and excused myself from my friends to follow him.
I waved at Dylan with a bright smile, and Dylan rolled his eyes. I was about to approach him, but his guards tried to block me. Huffing, Dylan motioned them to let me near him.
I opened my mouth to congratulate him, but he spoke up before me, "Did you see what happened in the arena?" I tilted my head in confusion but nodded nonetheless since he sounded serious. "You still want to annoy me to become your mentor and take that risk?"
I put on a big tight-lipped smile and folded my arms in front of me. "Life is all about risks. Those who don't take risks will earn nothing in life, and I'm sure I don't want to end up like that, even though my family has enough wealth to feed my three generations without having to work." Dylan looked like he was getting amused with my reply. "I can also take you for example. It's no secret that being in the Mafia is riskier than being a car racer, yet aren't you still doing it? Then, why can't I? I have every ounce of confidence it needs to be a racer."
Dylan tilted his head to the side, letting a smirk take over his lips. "Well, you have got my trust," he mused.
"Oh, I have done nothing to earn your trust yet," I let out shyly.
"Not that kind of trust." He rested his hand on top of my head and gave it a pat before saying, "What I'm saying is, I trust you to win the upcoming race which is to be held three months from now."
"How do you know for sure that I will—"
"A person who has the determination to take risks won't fail me," he said, which was like one of the best compliments I had ever received. I was grinning to myself when he turned around to leave. However, before he disappeared with his guards, he hollered, "Don't break my trust, disciple."
"Who the fuck is your disciple, you jerk?" I hollered back. As he had already left, I huffed while making an oath to myself. Just like Dylan said, I wouldn't break his trust, disciple or not, because he was the first person to trust me in this case.
After that, my friends and I went shopping, sightseeing, and had dinner together with karaoke. We reached the hotel after midnight and hurried to pack our luggage, grabbing the wrong clothes in the process as well as we had to catch the flight at 5 o'clock in the morning.
And finally, I was home. I pushed open the double door of my mansion, and the maids came running to take my luggage. Flashing a smile at them, I went inside to find Mom and Dad having breakfast, ready to leave for their office.
I greeted them and kissed their cheeks, asking them about their health. As I didn't feel hungry due to the jet lag, I directly went to my bedroom and jumped on my soft bed, feeling the familiar comfort and warmth of my territory, as I hugged my pillows.
I felt totally drained now. Sleep was starting to engulf me as even my bones felt exhausted. Just then my phone started to ring inside my purse. Lazily, I took it out, and my eyes went wide when my eyes fell on the caller ID. I immediately picked it up and pressed the phone to my ear.
Before I could even say 'hello', he spoke in his usual grumpy tone, "Geez, don't you ever check your message inbox?"
"Huh, why?" I sat up and stretched my arms to loosen the kinks.
"I texted you twice. How dare you not reply? Are you ignoring me?" Dylan scolded.
"Just twice?" I furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance.
"You can't expect me to bug you till I get a response. Calling is easier," he let out.
Dylan probably had no idea how many texts I left unseen every day. More than fifty texts, most of them being scam offers, were left unchecked, and he demanded my attention through two texts. Was I that less valuable to him? Was I even valuable to him to begin with?
"Sorry, I didn't see your texts. I was on the plane." I wasn't in a mood to put up an argument with him at this moment. "How did you reach so fast?" I yawned as I asked and laid down on the bed.
"I came back last night," he replied. He must have booked his tickets earlier or might have used his private jet. "I'm letting it slide because it's your first time. But if you dare to ignore my messages again, I will block you everywhere."
I rolled my eyes at his threat.
"Anyways, the reason I called you, you need to come to my place at 4 o'clock sharp. Your training can't be delayed anymore." Hearing me whine, he added, "Weren't you the one talking big about risks and determination? Did that brave girl go on a vacation now?"
"Yes," I answered. "But hey, can't we wait till tomorrow? I'm freaking exhausted today," I exaggerated.
"That's not my headache." With that, he hung up on me.
"This asshole," I cursed and threw my phone away on the bed, pulling my blanket up to my neck.
How heartless! Dylan was the most ruthless and heartless person in the world. How can a person not have any sympathy for an exhausted person? Would starting the training from tomorrow kill me? Would the world explode if I took rest for a day?
I cursed him for a long while before setting an alarm at 2 o'clock in the afternoon and went to sleep to be ready for hell.