To achieve anything in this game…
you must be prepare to dabble in the boundary of disaster.

Light and Dark

"I couldn't care less about World War II," I groaned, banging my head against my textbook. It was our second week into tutoring sessions, sessions I'd deemed useless and pointless. Okay, who gave a crap about the screw-ups that had happened? They happened all the time.

Dimitri tapped his finger on his own copy of the history textbook. "Come on, Rose. The test is tomorrow, and you need to remember the cause and effect of each event," he said patiently.

I shifted my head to glare at him. "Cause: bloody Truman said let's not waste our men and drop a whamming atom bomb on that tiny country. Effect: the poor Japanese people were being diagnosed with leukemia left and right. Conclusion: war fucking sucks."

His lip twitched slightly. "War does suck, I agree. But unfortunately the test won't be graded on your opinions," he said and took a sip of his Americano. A man after my own heart. "Now reread the chapter for the next half-hour and I'll be asking for a verbal timeline."

After a half-hour of hellish reading and another half-hour of relentless questioning, Dimitri finally gave me the go.

"Yes! Oh God, I read too much for one lifetime. Hey, are my eyes still there, Dimitri?" I asked, rubbing and opening them. I swore they felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

He chuckled. "If you can still see me, they're probably intact," he answered, gathering his things and neatly placing them into his messenger bag whereas, in contrast, I just shoved everything into my black backpack.

Heaving the pack on my back, I looked at my watch. I had enough time to drop my things off at my dorm and head on over to get my car from Adrian. "See you," I said and headed towards my dorm in a jog.

By the time I dropped my backpack by my desk, Lissa yawned and came through the door.

"Hey, Christian and the rest of the group want to go check out Ambrose's club tonight. He said he was done renovating the place, said it looked—and I quote—sick with a capital S," she said with a laugh and moved towards her closet. "What're you gonna wear?"

I bit my lower lip as I shoved on a black sweatshirt. "Actually, you guys go without me tonight. There's something I need to do," I said, turning with my wallet shoved in my pocket.

She turned her head with a suspicious look. "Again?" she asked, slightly annoyed. "Rose, you've been bailing out on us a lot these days. Did you hook up with someone we don't know about?"

Wish I did if he was younger, I thought bitterly but shrugged. "There are some new moves I want to try out on the GT-R. Qualifiers for Nationals are in two months, you know."

"Yeah, two months. I'm sure taking a day off won't lessen your already-killer skills. Come on, Rose. Clubbing isn't the same if you're not there," she whined.

I had to laugh. "Technically, all of us aren't supposed to be there," I reminded her. It was through Adrian's legit-looking fake ID's that we were there time to time. "Look, I'll join you guys another time. Just not tonight."

"You're shifting too fast," Dimitri noted as I rounded another corner, my nearly-dead tires kicking up dust. "You need to get a sense of timing, otherwise when you compete you'll be losing milliseconds that you can't afford to waste."

Gritting my teeth, I made a perfect drift around a large tree, keeping my distance from its trunk reasonably small. "I'm still fresh on timing," I sighed when I stopped where we'd started. "If you haven't noticed in the past two weeks, I move on instinct."

He frowned slightly. "We're going to have to sharpen up both. Let's go the same path again, and this time try to get a feel of how soon you should be braking for the sharp turns," he instructed.

I couldn't bother to argue. It was fascinating to be learning from an ex-Road Killer. Even though he'd given up the title for God knows whatever reason, his techniques were still killer. Hell, he even went so far as to show me where he used to practice: a deserted dirt terrain behind the mountains that were about an hour away by car.

After three more runs, he called for a break. I got out of the driver's side and leaned against the side of the hood staring into the dark; the sun had went completely down during my tenth run. If I died, I wondered if I'd end up in the dark for eternity. Oh yeah, I knew there was a glorious place called heaven. But with all the black marks in my life record, I doubt I'd ever make it there. So if not light, it'd probably be darkness for me. I wondered if he—

"What're you thinking?" Dimitri asked, breaking my train of thought.

Turning my head to the right, I saw him looking at me with a curious look. "Nothing much," I lied.

"Rose."

I had to chuckle; the man knew how to smell bullshit, even my level of bullshit which was very high by the way. "Just wondering how the hell we're going to find our way out of here since no one's bothered to install streetlamps," I said with a shrug. It wasn't a full lie.

Looking satisfied with my answer, he turned to stare into the dark like I'd done. "Sometimes," he began after a moment of silence, "there won't always be lights to pave out a clear path. Sometimes you have to find your own path on your own."

Grinning, I asked, "Are you trying to give me some zen lessons?" A laugh escaped me when he looked puzzled. "You're right. Life isn't fun if you know which path to walk on. The dark gives you a sense of adventure."

He did something that had my heart stop for two seconds. He smiled. It wasn't one of those twitching smiles he gave me every once in a while. It was a full-on smile, and God it made him look even more gorgeous. Whatever dark monster was eating away at my thoughts, it was completely gone now.

I stared back into the dark. "But I'm not willing to go on an adventure at the risk of totaling my baby against a tree, so you better bet your ass that you know how to get out of here."

He laughed outright. Okay, if my heart kept stopping like this around him, this man was bad news. "Rose, I've been driving longer than you, and I've got this entire area memorized like the back of my hand," he said reassuringly getting into the passenger side.

"Okay, how many lines does the back of your hand have?" I mumbled, getting in and buckling up before turning on the ignition. That got a chuckle out of him.

Within five minutes, we were back on the main road heading towards campus.

"Question."

He raised a brow.

I smiled. "What the hell possessed you to become a teacher? If there's supposed to be a connection between a racer and a teacher, I've yet to see it."

Glancing over, I could tell I caught him off guard. He probably had no one ask him questions about himself. How could anyone, with the way his antisocial front scared the shit out of everyone.

"I've learned a lot of things over the years," he said, "and I thought that since I have all this knowledge, I might as well share it."

I grimaced. "Look, I know you feel you're doing a good deed by sharing your knowledge, but maybe you overlooked the fact that there are some of us who don't appreciate it."

His lips formed another one of those twitchy smiles. "You feel that way now," he answered simply and I thought he let the subject drop. "But those who don't come to appreciate it soon are bound to be in an accident, in all sense of the word."

Something squeezed my gut; it was like he shot an arrow through me. Ignoring it, or trying to ignore it, I replied, "Speaking from personal experience?"

His eyes held a wistful look, almost like he regretted something. "Yes."

"Is that why you quit racing?"

It was another one of those rare moments where I startle him. I could all but hear the internal war raging within him, probably debating whether to ignore a seventeen-year old student or be honest with her.

The latter won out. "Yes."

An uncomfortable silence bloomed in the car, but thankfully I could see the teachers' living complex a few blocks ahead. Instead of heading straight into the parking lot, I made a right two blocks before and a left on the next street to stop in a dark alley that led to the back lot of the complex. No one could see me, and it was close enough for Dimitri to walk without the possibility of getting mugged.

"I'll see you in class," he said, unbuckling the seat belt.

I frowned. "Hey."

He paused, one leg out the door, and turned.

"Accidents happen all the time. You just have to learn from them to make sure they don't happen again," I said, speaking from my own experience. Then I smiled. "So stop looking so damn gloomy and man-up. We've got a test tomorrow, which should cheer you up you bloody sadistic teachers."

That did the trick: his eyes lightened up considerably. "Goodnight, Rose," he said and shut the passenger door before I made a U-turn and sped off towards Adrian's.

"You look like shit," Ben noted, stepping into my small apartment.

I downed my sixth and last bottle of beer, which did absolutely nothing. American beers were pathetic. "Hi to you, too," I mumbled, burying my face in my hands.

He took the seat in front of me on the other side of my small circular wooden dining table. "What's bothering you so much that you had to call me out at midnight?" he asked, folding his arms on the table. His worry was sincere.

"I was thinking about him," I said, my voice muffled by my hands.

I heard his sharp intake of breath. "God, Dimitri," he said mournfully. "What brought this on?"

Putting my hands down to fold my arms on the table as well, I hunched forward and sighed heavily. "I was talking to Rose," I answered. He knew who she was by now.

"Did she tell you about—" he began cautiously.

"We were talking about how some people don't appreciate someone else's knowledge and end up getting into all sorts of accidents," I interrupted him with a slight hiss at the end.

Now he sighed deeply. "We've been over this, Dimitri. Everyone's telling you it wasn't your fault. No, you listen to me," he snapped when I started to roll my eyes. "It wasn't your fault. I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to believe it. But I'm telling you it wasn't."

I wasn't in the mood to argue, so I just shrugged one shoulder and dropped the subject.

Attempting to lighten the atmosphere, Ben smiled and propped his chin up with his left hand. "How's it going with Rose?"

My eyes snapped up to his face, making him jerk slightly. "I don't like repeating myself."

He threw up his hands with a groan.

"But I think we're at the point where we've become friends," I added, smiling slightly when he twitched. I always wondered why he didn't go into the acting field; his moods changed as often as a hormonal woman.

He slapped a hand on my shoulder with a shit-eating grin. "My friend, you are making excellent progress."

I threw him a warning glance. "We're not going to go there. Ever." Did the man think of anything but sex?

He pointed a finger in my face with a serious expression. "You have feelings for her. If you lie to me, I swear, Dimitri, I'll kick your Siberian ass back to Baia," he warned. "It's written all over your scary face: I like my stunningly sexy student."

Why bother lying. "Yes, I have feelings for her. But," I said just as he opened his snarky mouth. Payback. "I'm not going to act on them. They'll go away sooner or later anyways."

He stared at me blandly. "Up until now, I never pegged you as a dumbass," he said. Then he leaned forward until he was in my face. "Answer me this: when was the last time you let anyone get close to you?" When I didn't answer, he grinned. "I know I don't have a lot of morals to follow, but let me tell you this as your best friend: I think—no, I know Rose is the one you need. And fuck the age gap or that she's seventeen, Dimitri. Because I also know that you're the one that Rose needs, too."

I raised a brow. "You sound so sure of yourself," I muttered.

"I am," he said with a smile. "I'm not joking about any of this, I swear on my grandmother's grave—or whoever next in line is six feet under. That group she's with all the time? They're the only ones she's open with. While you were still finishing your classes as an undergrad, the kids in school used to call her Ice Queen for five months because unless it was her groupies she gave everyone the cold shoulder, especially the guys that hit on her."

How many names did she go by? This was too much information for me. "Look, let's just put all this feelings issue aside for a while. I just got my internship barely two weeks ago, and you're asking me to put it at risk."

I could see him biting back a remark. "You stubborn ass," he growled, yanking his blond hair. "Fine! Fine, let's just wait and see for any developments, like you want. But if something happens, I want to know."

"Nosy ass," I laughed. "Okay, I can do that."

Besides, what were the chances of anything happening?

Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? R&R!

I have inspiration! Haha, thanks for waiting! (: Also, I just posted out a new fanfic: Line of Duty. It's not the typical random crap I've been writing. And looking back, I realized Love Forgotten was just random ideas glomped together. So I'd like to announce:

I will rewrite Love Forgotten once I finish Need For Speed because: 1) I wrote it before Blood Promise came out & 2) My writing style was—pardon my French—absolute shit. Stay tuned!

-Delicate