Vespa Scooter 8x10 Photography Print | $20

Story: By Danelle Meyer

“Come on,” Marci said, “be daring!” She flashed me a smile and I knew she wasn’t going to give up her efforts unless she got her way. We began inching our way closer and closer to the rental booth as she dragged me, unwilling, by hand. I rolled my eyes and huffed but she wasn’t stopping.

“Marci,” I gasped between pulls, “people are looking at us; please let me go.” I was fighting the redness that I could feel breeching my cheeks and pulling at the back of my skirt; she, on the other hand, was laughing wildly.

I have always wished I could bottle Marci’s confidence and sell it to everyone in the world who is lacking, myself included. Her head of black hair, smile and slim figure probably had a lot to do with why she never cared what anyone was thinking about her.

“Trust me, it’ll be fun! Plus there’s a hottie at the booth,” she giggled. I couldn’t disagree with her: he had that tall dark and handsome vibe going and I could see his green eyes sparkling even at a distance. “You’re always complaining about how you need something exciting in your life, well…this is it! Live in the moment Elise.”

The booth was quickly approaching and I had no where to run to. Did I mention my heels were killing me? Even if I wanted to take off there was no way I was going to get very far. I looked to the left and tried to smile to the group of what appeared to be college kids who were laughing at our display. “She is crazy,” I said.

“And hot,” replied one of the guys somewhere in the crowd. The comment didn’t even register for Marci; she was used to getting compliments.

She sat down her purse down at the booth, “I’m Marci and this is my friend Elise,” she said. I could see the worker, Torrence (according to the tag pinned on his shirt), staring wildly at Marci—lucky. No one ever noticed me, especially standing next to her. “We want to rent one of these things, how much?”

“Well for you,” he began. I blocked out the rest of the statement because I already knew what would be coming. He’d offer her some special deal and sneak in a phone number on the receipt, only what he didn’t know was—she was never going to call him. Her theory is the right kind of guys don’t pursue her, they are shy and require her to do some chasing. I’m not sure if she is right or not, but either way the next few minuets flew by as a helmet was strapped on my head and I took a seat behind her, hands gripping for life around her waist.

“I’m really not sure about this, go slow,” I pleaded in her ear. I don’t know if she heard or choose to ignore me but we speed off at a speed that was anything but slow. My eyes were closed tight and I was holding my breath.

“Relax, your grip is going to make us tip over, and would you open your dang eyes? I can see you in the mirror.” I cringed, but since I felt the Vespa slowing down I dared to inch my eyes open and squinted at the restaurants and cafes blurring by. I was still alive and to my surprise, the wind in my face and adrenaline rush felt great. My face began to soften and the scenery grew full size as I opened my eyes the rest of the way. I managed to smile, though I tried not to let Marci see.

“You should have learned to trust me by now,” she screamed over the wind, “when have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Just that one time you made me wear leopard print to that one party,” I yelled back.

“Look I was wearing zebra print and I fully believed it was a costume party of sorts.” We both laughed as we whipped around another corner, and at the next straight away can you guess what I did? I lifted my hands for a moment and screamed out loud with the biggest smile plastered to my face.