Chapter Ninety-Three: Mock Prom

"Why are you doing this?" I ask perturbed.

"I love you, that's why. Go on, I'll wait here for you." She coaxes, leaning over to open my door. I am pensive as I search her face, taking a few deep breaths to steady my erratic breathing before climbing out of my best friend's car.

The red Ferrari looks out of place on this dingy racetrack. Even so, it looks stunning. The sun is out like it never rained, the car catching the light, making it look even more dashing than a red Ferrari already is. But it is not the car that is making me hyperventilate. It is the man who steps out of it.

Our eyes meet the second he pokes his head out, and they maintain contact until he is straightened out, standing next to his car looking every bit of the Formula 1 driver he was. He is in a black suit, with a black shirt and tie, and shiny shoes on his feet. I hate to admit this, but he looks amazing.