CHAPTER 2:RIDE LIKE A GIRL

DREW

'Conflicted and curious' those are the words that can describe how I'm feeling at the moment. If only such words could actually convey the depth of what I'm feeling. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure anger is also part of those emotions somewhere deep down knowing that some phoney no-name wannabe hooded motorcycle rider came out of nowhere and took my spot.

Yet I'm somewhat excited because I've finally found a worthy opponent of some sort. I am also quite curious about the identity of the person who dares to go against me.

You understand why I'm conflicted, don't you?



I can't decide if I'm to punch the day light out of them when the time comes for making me lose a race like I would normally handle such situations or congratulate them for the challenge so far.

I'll admit I haven't had this much fun since I left for Nigeria ten months ago and I'm not going to lose my cool because some reckless twerp in a hoodie woke up and choose to be a great pain in my ass.

''Yooo! check these guys out!" A familiar brutish looking man said as he approached my friends and I.

"The men of the hour have arrived, didn't i say we won't start anything till these oyibo guys show up? Look alive people'' he continued(Oyibo: A term which Nigerians refer to the Whites or people born abroad) I zoned out the moment those words started pouring out of his mouth, my eyes darts around looking for someone and no one in particular. How do you look for someone when you don't even know what they look like? I guess I'll know it's him when I see the usual style of clothes he wears.



''Well, what do we have here. Now that you're here let the betting begins! Lemme see those cash flow people!'' Kuda the 'Manager' of the underground race shouted as he made hand gestures signifying money and I smirked as soon my eyes landed on my target for the night. There he is, standing alone as far back from the crowds as possible and wearing one of those black hoodies that make it impossible to see his face.



I'm brought back to reality as the leader of the underground racing game continued his rant about the bets and who he thinks might be the winner for the night. The oyibo guys, I'll give you a hint. He means me.

I was made to understand that Oyibo is not a slur term meant to offend the whites, it's actually used in a friendly manner but it still doesn't apply to us because for one Min is Korean-American which makes him only about 50% white, Hossein is Egyptian and yours truly is Nigerian-Lebanese.

My skin is a bit lighter than most black people I've met but that's because my maternal grandmother is white herself but the guys still insist on calling us Oyibo which I don't mind especially since I can't get rid of my British accent even if I wanted to, what? I can't help the fact that I was born and raised in London alright! Until ten months ago I had only visited Nigeria twice since I was born.



''Sure you wanna do this mate?'' Asked Min while glancing between Hossein and I, and I pat his shoulder in assurance with a little smile before walking through the crowd of jeering motorcyclists.

Min regarded me with a worried look as my chosen ride for the night is brought to me and Hossein maintained a stoic expression as usual and I nod at them with a smile before getting on the familiar leather sit and a very gruff voice came blaring through the speakers.

''The race is about to begin, remember the rules and if you're caught by the cops we have never seen you before and you don't know us'' Oh right! Did I forget to mention that this is an illegal underground race? I did? Oh, I'm sorry now you know it is. Well this lovely speech of theirs is repeated before every race. I remember the first time I heard it I thought 'why say it at all when we're doing something wrong?' But i guess it's like their insurance policy?

Frankly speaking I'm not a stranger to illegal activities, don't get me wrong. I've never done anything serious enough to attract the cops attention or increment my parents careers or even land me in jail, then again I haven't been caught so that last part shouldn't be written off just yet.

For as long as I can remember I've always loved racing, motorcycle racing that is and I'm damn good at it, people advised me to go into it professionally but I choose the illegal path which is underground based as you can already tell because down here. There is no pressure of any kind, just one rule...have fun.



You might be wondering why a two time governor's son would be involved with a group of hooligans whose sources of income is committing illegal activities? Well the answer to that is pretty simple, fun! I live for fun. I love having fun and what's more fun than riding a brand new BMW power bike at dawn as the wind rushes through your hair when a whole city is asleep?

''Tonight's race is between our beloved Oyibo and the hooded rider. Make no mistake ladies...win or lose that's on you but someone here is going home with 3 million naira'' Ah, I forgot to mention that it wasn't just about racing alone didn't I? I did yes? Oh, well it's not a kid's game as you've probably guessed but it does take kids of some of the most prominent leaders in Nigeria betting on the the riders. So not only are we breaking the law people, we're getting rich while doing it.



''On your mark ladies!'' Came the voice from the speaker as our motorcycle engines roared to life, I couldn't help but glance at the hooded rider and he raised his left hand towards me while making a gun like shape before pulling the trigger and the crowd went wild as we rode off into the night.

I was leading when the race started but the hooded rider overtook me a minute later and disappeared into a dark ally, as suspected this smug son son of a bitch is using his familiarity with the roads to his advantage.

We started the race from the popular A.Y.A bridge which is the location of the illegal racing game, and we're going all the way to Babangida's boulevard in Maitama while taking a little detour through Apo hills in just ten minutes which wouldn't be so bad if I knew most of those parts like the back of my hand.

Even with my experience I can't seem to beat this guy as he resurfaced in the middle of our race looking like he wasn't even trying at all. I've managed to overtake him several times but he's relentless in his pursuit, despite all my attempts at slowing him down he still manages to keep his balance and speed. Dude rides clean, no dirty tricks I'll tell you that.

As far as I'm concern this guy is having as much fun as I am, maybe that's why I'm not surprised that he just won the race by a few seconds again like he did last week.

Who the hell is this dude, and why now?









Author's Note...

Hey y'all!!! How you doing today? Chapter two of this story is up already. I'm gonna be updating new chapters for this story very often so you guys won't have to wait for days before reading new chapters. Don't forget to vote, comment and follow.

Adiós!