My feet pounded against the pavement, the hot summer sun shining down onto my uncovered shoulders. Music filled my ears, blaring out any other sound that could distract me from this run and the sound of my own breathing.
Beads of sweat glistened on my forehead, while the sweat got caught on the band I was wearing to keep it out of my eyes. My breath came out in short pants, and I knew that I had to stop before I passed out.
And so, as soon as I came to the stop sign that was about a mile away from my house, I stopped and took a small breather. I started to stretch, knowing that that would also help to calm my raging heart and make sure that I wasn't as sore. "Damn," I muttered, gulping for air. "That was a good run." I took a couple more deep breaths before looking in both directions before I started to go.
The sound of a roaring engine resonated through my headphones, causing me to stop in the middle of the street as a person on a motorcycle zoomed past me. Of course, almost hitting me. And, of course, the person didn't stop at the stop sign and started to race past.
Angrily, I pulled out headphones and yelled out, "Hey, Asshole, watch where you're fucking going next time!" My whole body was tense, and I couldn't help but want to punch this douchebag until the person gained sense.
The motorcyclist stopped, abruptly and turned off his motorcycle before turning around to face me. "Excuse me?" he asked, his voice smooth as chocolate and would have any regular female's undies dropping.
I glared at him and pointed to the stop sign. "Can you read?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "That sign means stop and make sure that a pedestrian isn't crossing."
The male turned his bike around, got off, and walked it towards me. As soon as he got close to me, he took off his helmet. His dark gray eyes were the first thing that I had noticed and then the scowl on his plump lips. "What?" he asked, trying to intimidate me.
I cocked an eyebrow higher and placed a hand on my hip. I wasn't really fazed by his glare or scowl because I had been fighting muscular guys, since I was fifteen with boxing and karate when I was probably eight. "Ooh, I'm so scared of your "bad boy" attitude. Someone save me," I said, sarcastically. "Lookie here, Cupcake, I eat guys like you for breakfast. You don't scare me."
The male glared, putting the stand down. "Don't call me "Cupcake", Sweetie" he grunted. He moved closer to me, trying to make me feel intimidated. He stood at 6'5, and I was glad that I was almost 6'0.
"Then don't run people over," I said. "I could easily take down your license number and call the chief of police."
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And what will he do? Do you know who I am?"
I glanced him up and down before shaking my head. "No, not really," I said. "Am I supposed to?"
He scowled and scoffed, and I couldn't help but think that he had something wrong with his throat. "Whatever." He placed his helmet back onto his head and looked at me. "Might as well check to see who you are dealing with." He pushed the stand back up before starting the motorcycle up.
"Jackass!" I yelled at the male as he rolled away from me. I couldn't help but scoff and just finish up my run. I knew that I should run some more because my annoyance level was high, but I couldn't find it in me to actually run.
