☞ Chance's Pov ☜

"Alright, say cheese baby!" My mom sings for what feels like the millionth time this morning. I'm standing outside our new home in front of our white garage door with one strap of my backpack slung across my shoulder. I put my other hand in my pocket and grin at the camera bracing my poor eyes for another blinding flash. A golden banner with the word SENIOR scrawled across it hangs behind me.

I hate getting my photo taken. It's uncomfortable and dizzying, and I never know how to pose in a way that doesn't make me look exceptionally awkward. At our old home back in California, my parents made this family-photo wall collage that scaled the entire length of our staircase. To save myself from embarrassment every day, I'd sprint up the stairs as fast as I could while shielding the left side of my vision in order to block out the multiple reminders of my exceptional awkwardness. My grins were more like grimaces and my "natural" poses were anything but.

Our new home is one story. I'm very grateful.

Usually the only person who can snap a picture of me without dramatic protest is my sister Clara. But that's 'cause you never see her coming. She's been obsessed with photography ever since she was little and never leaves the house without one of her Polaroid cameras hanging around her neck or tucked away in her backpack. She was a prodigy in the making.

Exceptionally shy when she was younger Clara's favorite kind of photo was a candid one. If she saw a group of kids swinging and wanted to join, she'd secretly snap an unsuspecting shot of them, shake out the developing image, and find a little joy in the smiling still faces on the 3in. by 3in. image.

She'd study each kid's face, pick which one seemed the nicest and most available to talk, and then practice how she would ask to join in on their fun before placing the Polaroid in her pocket and making her way over.

She often found that the people in her photos were nicer than the ones in real life. Why? She wasn't sure. Especially when all she wanted was a group of good friends to do all the things she captured in her photos with.

I look over at my sister standing slightly diagonally behind my mom as she holds up her own camera and takes her own pictures of the great fuss our mom is making. My smile becomes genuine when I spot Clara's, and I remember why I agreed without protest to this first-day-of-my-last-day of school photo shoot.

That smile almost didn't make it to this moment. Since the incident I promised I would do almost anything for that smile to stay on her face forever.

Another flash pulls me out of my thoughts and I blink black dots away as I pull my backpack off my shoulder. "Mom, if you take anymore photos we're gonna be late. We really gotta go."

My mother's pout appears from behind the camera that's now hanging from a black leather strap around her neck. With her hands on her hips she sighs and looks up towards the sky as tears start to fill her eyes.

"You're right, I'm sorry. It's just-," she gets choked up as she looks over to Clara who's too preoccupied with shaking out her new photograph, and then back to me.

I make my way over to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder bringing her in for a hug. "I know mom, I get it." And I do, which is why even though we should have pulled out of the driveway 5 minutes ago, I suggest, "hey Clara why don't you put down the camera and come take a few pics with me?"

Her focused face turns into one of excitement as she practically skips over to me before dragging me back in front of the garage door. I sling my arm around her shoulder as she places her hand behind my back. After a few photos of us smiling nice I raise my hand to tussle Clara's hair.

"Hey," she exclaims before ducking away from my reach and frantically running her fingers through her honey blonde waves. Usually she kept her locks in a messy bun, but today I guess she wanted to make a good impression, so she let her hair down.

I laugh until I feel a small but solid punch to my arm. "What the heck, mom she hit me," I whine trying to hide my smile as I feign injury. Clara sticks her tongue out at me in mock annoyance.

"Can't you two just take one normal picture together, Dear Lord," mom exasperates from behind the camera.

Clara and I turn to each other and laugh as a flash goes off on what is to become my favorite candid. Clara with her hair slightly sticking up and frizzed on the left side of her head and me clutching my arm with my eyes closed, as we both have our heads thrown back in laughter.

"Alright we really need to go now mom, for real," I say grabbing my bag off the ground. Clara does the same and walks over to our mom to give her a kiss on the cheek before walking over to the truck and tossing her bag in the back.

As I pass my mom she tosses me the keys to the truck. I toss them to Clara who catches them one handed and gives me a quizzical look.

"You didn't get your license last week just to sit in the passenger seat while I continue to drive you everywhere little sis," I say with a wink and climb into the passenger seat before closing the door.

Clara lets out an annoyed groan before walking around the front of the car and shooting me a glare through the windshield. I recline my seat back, close my eyes, and cross my arms over my chest. It's hard work after all, having your picture taken.

I hear the driver's door open and close, then the car start, but that's it. No tires crunching over gravel or the shifting of gears. I open my left eye and peak over at Clara whose gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles have gone white. My gaze tracks from her fingers to her wrists, which are encased with multi-colored woven bracelets, bangles, and leather beaded bands; to her shoulders, which don a red vintage 'Beatles' tee that's tucked into a high-waisted jean skirt; and then, the side of her face. Even just from her profile I can tell she's nervous.

"The next step is to put your foot on the break, in case you forgot," I joke but Clara doesn't smile, she doesn't even look my way.

"Hey," I say nudging her shoulder with my hand playfully. "New year, new you. New school, new people. Remember?" I remind her of the mantra she's been repeating to herself ever since we arrived in Oklahoma City two months ago. "You get to start over, start fresh. Just be yourself and I guarantee you'll have the whole sophomore class falling in love with you before the days over."

Clara turns to me now, a small smile sneaking onto her face. "You promise?"

"Pinky promise," I swear, lifting up my arm and holding out my pinky to her.

She loops her pinky around mine before nodding and shifting into reverse. I close my eyes once more. The sound of the gps spitting out directions is the only thing stopping me from drifting off to sleep.

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A/N:

Hey y'all!

So I randomly got the idea for this book after watching a street racing show my dad and I used to watch together all the time. I had developed a character already that I didn't have a story and she fit perfectly within this story's world. Since then I haven't been able to get this idea out of my head so I decided to write some chapters out and publish them, because that's the only way I can begin to write my other stories again... the struggle is real lol.

Hope you enjoyed this first introductory chapter :)
I'm curious, how do y'all feel about Chance and Clara?

As always, thank you for every read, vote, and comment!

<3 Anne