Zero to Eighty

Harry Styles was apparently the dick head who replaced my brother as Marlow Point's racing king. Could've fooled me, because after racing him tonight, it seemed like Harry was barely learning the ropes of this scene instead of the racer that everyone fawned over. I came to The Warehouse to not just join in on Regan's memorial, but for a challenge. I didn't want to race just anyone though. I am a Suarez, and I wanted to race the best--- which happened to be Sir Curly-Q with the permanent scowl etched on his dimpled face.

"That was brilliant!" Niall cheered, giving me a rub on the back, his hand lingering a little longer than normal. "You were amazing out there."

"I can't believe you beat Harry. He hasn't lost a race since he was still learning how to properly change the gears in his car," Liam disclosed.

"The way you drifted circles around him, damn! And the execution in and out of your drifts…. I haven't seen that kind of action since…" Louis' voice trailed off, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

Those were my brother's moves I pulled out there; techniques that he created and perfected on his own before teaching them to me. No one has been able to successfully duplicate, or even come close to Regan's driving skill--- as his sister, I was the only exception. I was just waiting till these guys put the pieces of the puzzle together and realize it. But the waiting game didn't have much of a wait to it, because in the midst of all the high-fives, and inappropriate ass-groping, I was called out.

"Antoinette Mackenzie Suarez,"

My breath stopped for a moment, caught in surprise as I slowly turned around to face the lucky detective. Harry stood behind me with his arms folded across his chest, the definition in his muscular arms peaking through. He had an expression of both annoyance and pompousness on his face. The annoyance probably stemming from my triumphant win, and pompousness from the pride he held of figuring me out.

"I never thought I'd see your face in this town ever again," Harry threw a smug look at me, but I caught it and hurled it right back.

"My sister's getting married, haven't you heard? Had to come support my big sis on her big day," I replied. There were no other side conversations; the entire crowd held their attention on us.

"I didn't recognize you," Harry gestured at my look from head to toe, "this is different. Everyone always wondered what the hell happened to Regan's kid sister."

"She grew up," I sneered. "And it's Kenzie, now."

Harry walked closer towards me, stepping into my bubble. His body was so close to mine that I could feel his warmth radiate all around me. I could smell a mixture of cologne, cigarettes, and sore loser all over him. I tilted my head back slightly, meeting his green eyes with mine.

"What were you planning on doing Kenzie," Harry began, adding a patronizing tone to my name, "were you planning to come stomping back into this place with warm hugs and butterfly kisses?"

"Excuse me? What makes you think you have the right---"

"You've been out of this place for three years and a shit load has changed, so let me fill you in. Firstly, I'm in charge now. I run this town, and if it weren't for your ties to Regan, I'd have you kicked out of The Warehouse. Secondly, I see right through your little bad girl act. You may have inked your skin, put a hole through your lip, and prance around in leather pants but all that's bullshit if you can't prove it. You will always be little miss sunshine and giggles and unicorn piss,"

My blood boiled, and I swore steam erupted from my ears. Who does Harry think he is? Marlow Point royalty? As far as I'm concerned, the whole town sees him and anyone associated with The Warehouse as delinquents, enslaved to be losers in this "east-egg" society. And if my brother were still alive, Harry wouldn't even come close to being a so-called racing king. Fuck his pretentiousness.

And his muscular arms. They were distracting as hell.

"You're a jerk, and a pain in my ass Harold… You may have been 'the king' yesterday," I air quoted using my two fingers, "but if I'm not mistaken, you lost tonight's race. So you fucking bow down to me. And while you're on your knees, you can suck my dick!"

Oooo. Burn.

The crowd exploded into bewildered howls and jeers upon hearing the words used to scorch Harry's ego. They surrounded me, and gifted me with more high-fives, pats on the back, and pulled me inside The Warehouse to join them for a round of beers and hard liquor… exactly what I needed. I joined a group of girls back into the building, leaving Harry stunned while his friends boosted up his pride.

"Girl, you're officially my hero!" a girl with long light brown hair exclaimed, linking her arm with mine. She had a Monroe piercing, and an intricate tattoo on the side of her body, which I was able to see perfectly as she was only wearing a cropped off-the-shoulder tank, and a pair of booty shorts. She was hot, and if I were a full-on lesbian, I'd totally tap it.

"Thanks, I'm Kenzie by the way,"

"Pleasure meeting you. My name is Eleanor, and these other two are Perrie," Eleanor pointed to another beautiful girl with blonde hair and snapping blue eyes. She was dressed a little more conservatively than the other girls here, but after returning her hug, I could smell the alcohol on her and I knew she wasn't some prude.

"And this is Danielle," Eleanor continued, gesturing towards a girl with dark curly locks, and legs I would kill for. The tone on her legs, and her baby-abs were crazy sexy. I noticed a beautiful flower design on her lower back--- a tramp stamp.

"Harry can be such a dick wad," Danielle sneered, "and no one ever has the balls to tell him off. But you my friend, have some big-ass balls."

"Thanks, it's the shots of gasoline I take every morning," I joked, and the girls chuckled. It's official, I liked them.

They led me upstairs to the second floor where there were sections of couches and tables. It definitely changed in the last three years because the last I remembered of this place, the second floor was just a simple balcony overlooking the commotion of the first. Then again, Regan never let me come here after-hours, and I could see exactly why.

"Have a drink with us! You're done racing, so a little achy won't hurt," Perrie plopped down on the red couch, pulling my hand to sit next to her. She leaned forward, grabbing a bottle of Peach Ciroc from a bucket of ice and proceeded to pour me a mixture of vodka and lemon-lime soda.

"So do you girls race too?" I asked, chugging from the red cup. Perrie's cool, but the girl needs to make this shit stronger.

"No," Danielle chuckled, "but my boyfriend does. Have you met him? His name is Liam Payne."

"I used to go to school with Liam actually," I said matter-of-factly, pouring more vodka into my cup. Perfect.

"No way!" Danielle's eyes widened. I nodded, sipping my drink,

"Yup. He was in a grade above me, but we had math together. I went to school with the majority of Mister dick wad's posse. Zayn and Niall… Louis was in my brother's class though."

"So you used to live here?" Eleanor asked. She took a drink from her cup.

"Yea, I uh, left. Right after my brother…" my words faded as I caught glimpse of a photo on the wall by Eleanor's face. I stood up, leaning in, and trying to get a closer look.

"Kenzie, what are you looking at?" Eleanor questioned, turning her head to figure out my sudden change in attention.

I plucked the polaroid off of the wall. It was similar to the one in my room of Regan and I during my sixteenth birthday here at The Warehouse. I stared at the photo and then looked up at the wall, only now realizing that this area was full of polaroids. It wasn't just photos of my sixteenth birthday, but from other random days of me tagging along with Regan. There were snapshots of my brother and his friends, one of Niall getting a tattoo, Zayn sitting happily behind the wheel, and many others alike--- quick snapshots of life, and the smiles that were a part of it. It was artistic, beautiful, and metaphorically captivating all at the same time.

"Oh yea, these polaroids are everywhere! The photographs on the wall is by far my favorite thing about this place," Danielle mentioned. I turned to her, still holding the photograph of Regan and I. I brandished it out towards her,

"Do you know who's been taking these polaroids?"

"It's going to be hard to believe, seeing as he's such a grumpy, pessimistic jerk," Danielle laughed, "but I will admit, Harry Styles does have a keen eye for spotting happy moments when he sees them."

Harry fucking Styles?!

I hopped over Perrie's legs, and walked straight across to the railings. I pressed my chest against it, holding the blue-painted banister and peering down to the party below. And there he was, sitting on one of the couches with his arm draped around the chick with the pierced nipples--- her shiny top now covering her fake ass boobies. When I continued to glared at him, that's when I noticed it. On the corner of the table was a simple, black polaroid camera and a line of developing photos next to it.

He sent that stupid photo to my parents; the one that's currently hiding inside my side table drawer. What was his deal? Why the hell would he do that to me; to my parents? Did he send that photograph as a joke, to remind my family of that horrible day? Did he send it to spite my mom, because she hated The Warehouse and everything it stood for? Whatever the reason, wasn't a good enough one. Harry was a jerk, and I hated him even more knowing that he's the one capturing all these sweet moments.

Bitch.

Notes

Heyyyy!!

Long time, no talk!! I've been completely swamped with final exams and term papers that I haven't had much free time. But I am finally FREEEE and have successfully completed my first year at university! *whew* Any who, Chapter 6. Kenzie is a sassy little thing isn't she? Oh well, Harry's being arrogant anyway. I hope you all enjoyed it, and this story so far!! Thank you all for reading!

-Erica Jaine <3