HIGHWAY TO HEL-LO! - open

[GRACE ADAMS]

Gracie needed to get away from this madhouse. Her parents had invited her over again for the weekend and she couldn’t say no. She knew there was going to be at least two guys attempting to woe her but seriously she didn’t expect them to suck so much. Harold would not shut up about the Yankees, as if Grace Lynn really liked baseball... she was a super model not a softball player. Then there was Mike who smelt awful. His father was the owner of a major cigar company so he could easily get his hands on some smokes. He, of course, mentioned that to try and impress her. She couldn’t get over his putrid smelling breath and excused herself to her room. Within a few minutes she had a plan.

Baum Academy Athletic Center. It was literally like any other gym but you didn’t have to pay membership. Not that Gracie cared about the membership, she just liked the escape. Quickly changing into shorts, a sports bra and a pair of running shoes, she made her getaway. Not before her annoying parrot decided to say, “Don’t be late!” exactly like her mother. She rolled her eyes and tossed pillow at him.

“Shut up, Pirate.”

Arriving at the building she tossed her purse in the locker and set her iPhone to play some ACDC. Honestly she just wanted loud and angry but Eminem wasn’t upbeat enough for a workout. As she hit the track, Highway to Hell started playing a smirk played across her face. She wasn’t exactly sure if she was alone but didn’t really think there would be anyone here. It was the weekend obviously. Unless there was a football practice but it was pretty cold for that. Bleh, she had no idea about sports and what not. Harold seemed to know a whole lot though. God, why didn’t he just marry frickin’ Barb Ruth or whatever. She was so tired of guys at the moment. Okay, not guys in general but fake guys. It was a sad fact that 90% of the guys who ever showed interest in her were fake. What was fake exactly? Gracie picked up her speed and held a scowl that could stop someone in their tracks. Fake guys were greedy, selfish, narcissistic, sexist jerks who only wanted trophy wives to hold in their cabinets and occasionally cheat on. That wasn’t love. That was fucking stupid. But that’s what her mom w--

Impact. At first, Gracie was certain in her rage she had run into a pole like an idiot. Her iPhone flew from her hand and smashed into the ground, without a doubt broken. She fell backwards landing on her bum. Ouch. “Dammit, not another broken phone.” she grumbled as she reached for it. She heard different grumbles apart from her own and looked up. “OH MY GOSH!” she bit her lip and abandon her phone. “SORRY!”

[STELLA HINES]

Running running running running running running running running.

It wasn't just a hobby. It was her life. Her passion. Her number one way to kill time, get to places, do anything. Running was everything. Stella Hines would never understand why people didn't get this. They laughed at her when she asked if they wanted to go for a jog -- early in the morning, middle of the day, late at night. Anytime, really. Anywhere. Stella hated when people shook their heads. She especially hated when they said 'maybe next time.'

There never was a next time. It was one of the few things that bruised Stella's ego. They wouldn't go running with her because she was too fast, too crazy, too loud, too annoying. To have been told some of these things to her face really... they really hurt. Which is saying something because this is Stella Hines and Stella Hines holds her own. Stella Hines doesn't care what people think; it's why she dresses so brightly. (Or maybe it's because she craves attention?)

Stella swung her head back and forth, a very fierce shake, her hair falling into her face when she was done. Make the bad thoughts go away. Let them go. Run. Time to go running. Don't think. Just move. Running running running running. That's all that mattered. She ran from her dorm, across campus, by buildings, to the track where she took to the asphalt immediately, not slowing or pausing.

For what felt like a very long time, longer than usual, she just ran. Stella continued in the same shape (why were tracks always such a boring shape?) for hours, maybe, or perhaps just minutes. She'd neglected to bring her Zune on purpose, never having cared to have music in her ears while she ran. Why music when she had the sound of her own breath, her shoes on the pavement, nature all around her?

Her vision suddenly blurry, Stella shut her eyes tightly and was horrified to realize she'd begun to cry. Wiping the back of her hand against her eyes, she muttered a string of curse words, asking herself whywhywhy the hell was she crying?! And suddenly, she was being crashed into and her landing on the track was very painful. She assumed it was because she'd been going so fast, the collision must have hurt more than usual.

There was a broken iPhone not far from her and so Stella was briefly relieved it was a person she'd run into and not a tree or pole. She stood quickly, hurriedly brushing away any remaining tears, and stuck her hand out for the girl. Red hair, clearly tall though she was still on the ground, and wearing perfect running clothes. Why hadn't Stella changed into something more her before leaving?

"It's fine. You can make it up to me with a race." A race. That was exactly what she needed. Winning would make everything better. "I'm Stella." Best to let your opponent know your name so they knew who they were losing to.

outfit

[GRACE ADAMS]

A race. The girl had to be kidding. She had just fallen over on hard concrete and now she jumped up like it was no big deal and wanted to keep running? Gracie had experience with falling (acting had you doing some crazy stuff) so she was alright. Stella seemed to be too so she just brushed it off as a rough fall.

Gracie picked up her iPhone and frown at the shattered screen before looking up. “I’m Gracie.” She tossed her phone into the grass at the edge of the track and stretched a bit. “A race? I guess I can do that. Once around the track?” She shrugged and stood next to Stella. The girl was a lot shorter than her but clearly had some experience in running. Really, Gracie just ran for the exercise. Oh, and the occasional stress relief of her stupid life. She knew she wasn’t going to win but decided to humor the girl. Stella was in one word adorable and from her eyes it looked like she’d been crying. Gracie did not want to see that.

“Okay, one, two, three, GO!” she said. She ran her fastest loving the way the wind rushed by her like she was a super heroine or something. What has that guy’s name who ran fast? Speedy? Quikman? Fastdude? As Stella easily passed her up, she got it. Flash. Definitely what Stella was. She was gone in a Flash. Nearly half a minute later, Gracie met her back in the same place they had before. Gracie laughed at her own defeat and held out her hand to Stella to shake it. That’s what racers did right? “You must be in track... or something. If not, you should be,” she said holding her side and panting. Even at the angle she was in, Gracie was still taller than Stella. It was pretty pathetic how she was sprinting and still didn’t even tie with the girl. “How old are you anyway?” she asked after regaining her composure.

[STELLA HINES]

Stella thanked whatever God there was that this girl had agreed to a race. She thanked the racing gods. Yeah, that made sense. The gods of good luck. Stella really didn’t care either way, she was just thankful. She had needed a distraction, she had asked for a race, and she was getting one. Perfect. Stella watched as the girl retrieved her iPhone, now pretty much destroyed. “Sorry about your phone…” Stella murmured, guilt making her stomach clench for a moment. She should have been watching where she was going.

Taking up her spot besides Gracie, Stella could already feel the smile stretching ear to ear. She liked how little things like this could cheer a person up. Sometimes, it was having perfect hair for the day. Other times, it was acing a test. For Stella, it was racing. It didn’t even matter if she won or not (HAHA, who was she kidding? She always won). Stella alternated bouncing on each foot, falling easily into her running mode. (People don’t get this. Stella’s running mode is when all that matters is the track. There could be a tiger on her heels, and she would not notice).

Gracie’s countdown took too long (it was like any other countdown, but any and all things keeping her from running took too long). The moment she’d uttered the word GO!, Stella was off. There wasn’t a moment between before she was running, shoes pounding against the pavement, her hair flying out behind her. There was nothing better than this. Somebody might say drugs or money, but not to Stella. Gracie put up a good fight. She clearly ran often, perhaps for exercise. But not like Stella ran, for fun. Because she wanted to.

Stella won. Of course she had. It was a given. Still, she wasn’t always a sore winner. (You know, like sore loser except not.) She didn’t always laugh in the other’s face, pointing out everything they had done wrong. Beaming at Gracie once the girl had caught up, Stella nodded. “I am!” She glanced around the track, fondly remembering each practice and meet. “It’s the only team I’ve stayed on for more than a week.” Gracie was really very tall, Stella noticed. That would certainly help in a race had she been going against anybody else.

“I’m fifteen.” She answered, reaching up and pushing her hair off of her shoulders. “Why?” The polite thing to do was probably to ask how old Gracie was. You know, ask the question you’ve just been asked. At least, that was how she’d always thought it worked. Being polite wasn’t exactly on her mind, though. The only thing on her mind was that she had just won. It truly felt like it had been forever since somebody had last agreed to a race with her. And it was this that had Stella deciding Gracie was a girl she would very much like to be friends with.

[GRACE ADAMS]

“Nah, it’s all good. My warranty covers it,” she said before the race.

So the girl was in track! Gracie might actually think about going to one of the meets then. The comedic value of seeing this adorable Stella beat the pants of some tall giant girl would totally be worth the stale popcorn and watery soda. Gracie had no idea how that girl ran so fast. It was like she was part cheetah or something. Or maybe even a rabbit. Yes, a rabbit would work. They’re tiny and adorable but when they moved, it was like warp speed or something crazy.

“I bet they’re glad to have you,” Gracie said. “You’re definitely a great runner.” She walked over to the grass and flopped down on her butt. Her mom would probably tsk at this unlady-like move but honestly Grace was tired. She’d already been running a lot today and that last lap in a sprint took the rest of her energy.

“I’m fifteen. Why?”

“Wow, fifteen. I was just wondering.” Gracie’s eyes went wide and she let out a laugh. “That’s awesome. So you’re a freshman then?” This girl seemed too cool to be a freshman or even fifteen. Most of the freshman she encountered called her a snob or weird. They were still in middle school mode where being rude was cool. Honestly, Grace just tried to brush it off. They were new and such. “You’re pretty cool for a freshman.” She sat back up and then realized something. “Did I interrupt your training? I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your coach. I was just out here for some exercise. You know, blow off some steam.” She had to say that last part. The girl was probably going to think she was secretly an angry rage monster. The Grace Hulk. Grace SMASH! Okay, that was sort of silly to think about. “Being a junior is tough and all,” she added. This girl probably thought she was a loon. That was just another rumor about her that this school needed. She really needed more people talking behind her back like she needed holes in her skull.

[STELLA HINES]

Stella shrugged, assuming warranties were probably something her mother bought for everything. Stella didn't really get it. In fact, she didn't get a lot of things yet. Stella always says it's because she's still too young. What does she need to worry about warranties for at fifteen years old? All she needed to worry about at fifteen is running and school (sometimes) and maybe getting a job at some point. Not yet, though. God no. Work was stupid.
Stella beamed, putting her hands on her hips and standing a little taller. "You bet they are!" Or at least, she hoped they were. The only way people were expressive about Stella was usually to tell her how fucking annoying she was being, or to for the love of God, please SHUT UP. She always did get plenty of claps on the back, though… That must have meant they were glad to have her, right? They’d probably be happier with her if she stopped bragging about how they’d one thanks to her. Sometimes she just didn’t get people. “Thank you. You could probably be on on the team.” Stella was sure the girl was good enough to race.

She followed Gracie to the grass but she remained standing. She was still too worked up after the race and so she stood, walking in place and sometimes even in circles around the girl. “Yeah, I’m a freshman.” She almost sounded like she was disappointed about it. Had anybody who really knew her overheard, they’d probably laugh. Stella, you can’t be disappointed about being a freshman. You’re so stupid sometimes, you’ll probably get held back. (She was being such a Debbie Downer today, wasn’t she?).For a second, Stella just stopped and stared at Gracie. Pretty cool for a freshman? A little stunned by the compliment, Stella dropped down next to her new friend and sat there, blinking. Today wasn’t so bad after all. Stella looked at Gracie and then laughed, “no! It’s fine. I run more because I want to over running because I have to.” Stella could totally get blowing off some steam. “What did you need to blow off steam for?” She couldn’t help being curious.

Oh, so Gracie was a junior. Stella wondered if there was some rule against upperclassmen talking to underclassmen. If so, Stella hoped Gracie wouldn’t get in trouble. If not… well, she needed to stop listening to all the high school rumors. “How? Is it the class work, or?” God knows she needed more class work. She might as well just drop out of school now.

[GRACE ADAMS]

Gracie couldn’t help but admire Stella’s confidence. She seemed so sure of herself and it really made Gracie wish she could be her. These days she’d rather be anyone than herself. Well, except for her mother. No one needed to be her mother. Ugh.

“Thank you. You could probably be on on the team.”

“Not really. I’m too busy with... work...” she said shaking her head. Gracie wasn’t sure what else to call modeling. It got to the point where even work sounded too benign for it. She preferred to call it torture, behind closed doors of course. Gracie walked the girl’s face light up at the compliment and couldn’t help but smile back at Stella. She found herself surprised as Stella sat next to her. A little flicker of hope burned brighter as she realized that this awesome girl could be a friend. A true friend.

“How? Is it the class work, or?”

She sighed and shrugged. “I think it’s the whole “deciding your future” thing. I already have my future decided for me but... I hate it!” Gracie looked up at Stella and frowned a bit. Friends had to be honest right? She didn’t actually want to give Stella the details because that could just ruin everything. Usually most girls would say, ‘Omg you’re a model, omg how can you hate it? You’re so lucky.’ Gracie would love to show them any day but she wouldn’t even put her worst enemy in her shoes.

“But there’s like nothing I can really do about that, so I’m here instead.” She continued and shrugged again. “Don’t worry about the class work though. It’s easy if you understand it. And if not, the teachers are pretty cool with helping you out.” Cooler than her parents who couldn’t believe she got a C even after they’d spent the entire last month making her stay late at modeling shoots. When else did they expect her to do homework? She wasn’t wonder woman! The redhead pulled on her ponytail in annoyance. Even thinking about this made her angry. Best to change the subject. “Why do you like running?” she asked curiously.

[STELLA HINES]

Shifting a little now that she was sitting, Stella realized just how over the top she was probably coming off as. Maybe it’d be a good idea to tone down the bragging… It wasn’t really fair of her to take so much credit for the Track team winning, was it? For all she knew, this girl was a spy for the team to find out how much of a brat Stella really was, and after hearing all of this, they’d kick her off the team. Her shoulders slumped and she made a promise to herself from there on to stop acting so high and mighty. Jesus, she was just some fifteen year old kid.

“Oh.” Stella hoped that would never ever be something she had to say. She never wanted to be too busy to do something because of work. The only job she’d ever do would be one that paid her to run or play sports. Oh! She’d even be okay with being a tester for new music, because that meant jumping and dancing around. Well, as long as they gave her good music. “What’s your, uh, job?” It felt like an awkward thing to ask, because she never liked asking adults about it. They got all glassy-eyed talking about their ‘career.’

Stella seemed to shrink in on herself at the very mention of the future. Terrifying. If there was one thing on this Earth that scared Stella, it was that someday she would have to ‘decide her future.’ It was that people would expect it of her, and if she gave them an answer they didn’t like, judge her for it for the rest of her schooling. It just wasn’t fair that they wanted the students to start thinking about it so early on. Why couldn’t they just learn their equations first and worry about work after college? “What d’you mean, decided for you?” She scrunched up her nose. “That isn’t fair.”

She was very annoyed for a second that somebody thought they could boss Gracie around like that. At that moment, an idea planted itself in her mind, and she was determined from that day on to help Gracie get out of whatever hell somebody was forcing her into. She’d make sure her new friend got to do what she wanted to do. Stella shrugged, “I don’t usually understand it. And all of my teachers hate me, so I’m sure the others will too.” Really pessimistic, but really true. Maybe if she’d learn to sit still and shut up, they’d like her a bit better.

Perking up a little, glad to have the subject changed, Stella put her chatterbox skills to good use. “Everything.” She looked out towards the track. “The wind in my hair and my ears, the sound of my shoes hitting the ground. The stitch in your side! And having trouble breathing. And pushing through it until you hit that moment of… where you just… when it’s easy! And nothing… nothing can stop you and you’re just going and going and going because you made it by that pain and that means you can do anything.” She paused, a little breathless, grinning. “You’re invincible.”

[GRACE ADAMS]

“Yeah,” she said with a frown. Then Stella asked the question. Gracie bit her lip and looked down at the manicured grass. Honesty, right? That was the best policy. She took a deep breath and mumbled, “Oh you know, I uh-- Modeling.” Her mother’s voice in her head about mumbling and not making eye contact made her frown even deeper. “But yeah that’s kinda what I’ll be doing for forever or you know, until I get too old,” she explained.

She looked up at Stella and smiled sadly. Finally, someone who understood! “I know right but it’s my mom and she’s always like ‘Don’t disappoint your father, Grace.’ ‘Life isn’t always fair, Grace.’ ‘Quit being such a selfish little girl. That’s not a pretty look, Grace.’ Ugh, I hate it!” Gracie nearly yelled and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t get why wanting to do something more than look pretty all the time for my career is “selfish” and “immature”. My mom is nutso.” Gracie put air quotes around the words. She was in full out ranting mode now. “‘For once I’d just like to choose what I want. Like, maybe I could join the track team! Or something...” The fire slowly went out of Gracie’s voice. “Sorry, that was totally too much information.” She forced herself to quit ripping out grass and stay quiet.

“I’m sure they don’t. You’re really too sweet to be saying that. I could help you! Or you could get like, a tutor. Maybe a cute college dude,” she said with a wink. “I think Barrie has a tutoring program.”

Gracie nodded quickly. She knew the feeling. It wasn’t as cool as what Stella was describing but running did make her feel like she was getting away. She was actively running from her problems until it wore her out. It was basically the only thing she could do at this point. “Yeah, it’s nice to feel like you’ve got super powers or something sometimes. That no one can get you down,” she added as the girl stopped to breathe.

[STELLA HINES]

Modeling? Had Stella heard her right? No way could Gracie, awesome kind Gracie, be a model. Models were… they were stingy and mean and just downright bitchy an—Oh, wait. Hadn’t her mother told her something about making assumptions? Alright so fine, maybe she didn’t know any other models. But it was a safe guess, wasn’t it? That’s how they usually came off in the shows and movies. “No!!” She found herself exclaiming, turning to Gracie with a mixed look of annoyance and determination. “If modeling isn’t what you want to do for the rest of your life, then don’t do it!” If Stella was stuck in a career she didn’t want, she’d possibly quite literally break out of it, by somehow breaking a door or window on her way out of the building. Yeah, so she sometimes had a thing for being dramatic. Problem?

For a second, Stella watched a little stunned as Gracie began ranting about her mother. And then she realized Gracie was ranting about her mother, and it took every ounce of will in her not to join in. She found herself shaking her head the entire time Gracie talked, as if it could show just how annoyed she was to find out that Gracie’s mom was just as much a smother as hers was. Once she’d finished, Stella half reached out to place a hand on Gracie’s shoulder before lowering it back to her lap. “Just because she’s your mom doesn’t mean she has any right to do any of that! It’s not fair that parents can treat their kids like that and get away with it because it’s supposed to be ‘encouraging’ or whatever.” She growled, noticing how angry she was becoming and not minding one bit.

“My mom is kind of like that, in the ‘hovery make me do something I don’t want to do’ way. She wants me to wear dresses and enter beauty pageants—” She almost stopped after realizing she’d admitted that to somebody when it was something she’d wanted to take to the grave, “but I don’t! And you shouldn’t have to either! You just need to stand up to her. If you want to join the track team, do it!!!!” She stopped finally as well, the anger slowly melting out of her. She hated adults so much sometimes. It was one thing she was so worried about growing up over. If she hated them so much now, what would she think of herself when she was ‘officially’ one? Then again, she doubted she really ever would be. Wasn’t there something about being a kid at heart, and getting old but not actually growing up? Something like that.

Stella got a little sheepish, tugging gently on a strand of hair. “Well… thanks.” Sometimes she took compliments like a cocky bitch, sometimes like a pro, and sometimes very shyly. She looked up, suddenly quite hopeful and keen to the idea of somebody tutoring her. All her other tutors were awful, but having a friend do it? Yeah please!! And then she was blushing, because guys were kind of a foreign concept to her, and if she couldn’t understand the high school ones, she didn’t even want to try the college ones. Besides, she was certain a college student would get sick of her in two days. “I’d really like that! If you wouldn’t mind, that is. And if you had the time?” Stella didn’t want to take away Gracie’s free time, especially if she didn’t get very much of it.

She felt for a minute that somebody else actually got the running thing, and it made her that much happier to have met Gracie. Because that was exactly how she felt when she ran: that nobody could get her down. Not her mother or her teachers or her own self. (On a side note, how cool would it be to have super powers? Man, she ‘d make the greatest super hero ever).

notes: this post got away from me wow i am sorry

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[GRACE ADAMS]

Gracie smiled sadly at the girl. “I wish it was that easy,” she said and her smiled turned to a frown. She realized it could be that easy. Don’t her parents love her? Why were they making her do something she didn’t want? Maybe it was because she wasn’t strong enough to say no to them. She didn’t want to disappoint. Ugh, but they should ask her what she wants! All they really thought about was themselves. It was so...

Gracie went off into the rant and didn’t stop until she finally lost steam on the subject. Wow, Gracie was a lot more mad than she originally thought. “It’s because she’s my mom that she’s allowed to do that,” Gracie corrected Stella why a huff of frustration. “Parents own their kids. I might as well be doing slave labor,” she grumbled, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. “Pageants are...” she was about to say “not that bad” but suddenly her pageant days hit her like a fresh smack of PTSD right in her pale face.

“Oh god, they’re awful! The people are rude and bitter and angry. Everything’s competitive and my friends... my friends were just as miserable as I was. Seriously, we were only doing it because our parents wanted us too. The crown was not worth it.” She shook her head dramatically. “I can’t join. I wouldn’t be able to go to meets. My mom wouldn’t drive me or anything. I can’t... stand up to her. It would end pretty badly for me,” Gracie added. She was really in a jam. If she refused to do a shoot or some sort of runway thing, her mom would take away her phone and laptop for a month.

Gracie eyes widened at the prospect of tutoring. She wondered if she could be a teacher or maybe a counselor like the ones at school when she got older. Honestly, anything that didn’t have to do with modeling. “Oh my gosh, I’d love to!” she said her voice excited and squeaky. “I could be like your mini-teacher or something... and stuff. I mean, I got all As in freshman year so I think I could really help. I have Sundays free usually. It’d be fun too, I promise.” Gracie grinned, hoping that Stella would agree.