The atmosphere instantly froze—so awkward it felt like time had stopped. Behind them, Jiang Hai couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling secondhand embarrassment for Jack King.
"Hey, don't say that," Bavita Jean-Dro interjected, attempting to defuse the tension. "We've met a few times now. Anyway, are you here for ice cream?"
"Yeah," Kelly Soren replied politely. "Do you want some too? We can help you order so you don't have to line up again."
Though she wasn't familiar with Bavita, she knew he was Dilia George's boyfriend. Since she had a good relationship with Dilia, she made an effort to be cordial.
"Oh, no thanks. I wouldn't eat that stuff anyway…" Bavita said with a quick glance at Jiang Hai, flashing a smug smile. But Jiang Hai didn't react—he wasn't one to take the bait over such petty remarks.
"You doing anything after ice cream? Want to come to a little car meet with us?" Bavita asked casually.
At that, Kama Clive's eyes lit up with curiosity.
"Racing? Like in Fast & Furious?" she asked, visibly excited.
"Sort of," Jack King chimed in. "It's not as intense as the movies—we don't go that wild. But yes, we do race. We place small bets too. It's more about the thrill than the money."
Kama Clive turned to Jiang Hai with hopeful eyes.
She'd led a pretty sheltered life. Raised under strict family rules, she'd barely strayed beyond curfews in high school. Even in college, she mostly hung out with well-behaved roommates. For her, this kind of underground event was a rare and thrilling opportunity.
But she also knew the risks. If Jiang Hai didn't go, she wouldn't either—she wasn't reckless enough to follow strangers alone.
Jiang Hai saw the excitement in her eyes and hesitated. Personally, he didn't care for rowdy parties. But car racing… that was intriguing. He'd grown up watching Initial D—a series that, for all its melodrama, sparked a passion for racing in many from his generation.
Seeing Kama so eager, he finally gave in.
"Don't worry," Bavita added, noting Jiang Hai's hesitation. "There's no pressure to race. You can just watch. Dilia's coming too—I'm heading to pick her up now."
Kelly Soren didn't entirely trust them, so she pulled out her phone and called Dilia George directly. Confirming that Dilia would be there, she looked at Jiang Hai for his decision.
Jiang Hai took out his phone and called Bell, asking him to stay alert while resting. If anything happened, Bell could act immediately. Once that safety net was in place, Jiang Hai turned to Kama Clive.
"Alright, we'll go. But you have to behave. If you don't, I'll tell your parents," he said firmly.
"Got it!" Kama Clive grinned and nodded eagerly.
"Great. We'll get the cars and meet in the parking lot at seven," Bavita said before walking off with his crew.
Jiang Hai and the others rejoined the line for ice cream.
"Have you been to one of these racing parties before?" Jiang Hai asked Kelly Soren.
"I've heard about them, but never actually gone. Bavita and his group are kind of well-known around here. But my dad never let me do anything remotely dangerous growing up," she said with a shrug. "Guess I'll finally see what all the fuss is about."
Jiang Hai smiled, knowing she was telling the truth. Her family ran a flower shop in town, and her father was known for being... eccentric. Her mother was even more cautious—some said timid.
Children from such households typically went one of two ways: either they became even more introverted or developed a fierce sense of independence. Either way, scenes like this racing event weren't in their usual orbit.
"Well, we'll go check it out. If it's boring, we'll leave," Jiang Hai said.
The three of them reached the window and ordered their ice creams—one original, one peach, and one nut-flavored. Jiang Hai took a bite and nodded in approval. The taste really was excellent.
While they walked around enjoying their cones, they chatted and passed the time. Their meeting was set for seven. Bavita had gone to Winthrop to pick up Dilia, and since they needed dinner anyway, they found a nearby Italian restaurant. Kama, already lost in excitement about the upcoming event, barely touched her food.
By six forty, spurred on by her urgency, the group headed toward the parking lot.
When they arrived, Bavita Jean-Dro and Jack King were already there, waiting beside their cars. Dilia George stood next to Bavita's vehicle, waving as Jiang Hai approached.
"Hey Dilia, your day's done?" Jiang Hai called out.
"Yeah, there's not much happening in Winthrop at night. The tourists all went to bed early," she said with a laugh.
They chatted for a few minutes until Bavita cleared his throat, signaling it was time to leave. Jiang Hai and his group climbed into the truck and followed them out of the city.
Boston wasn't large, and its original layout was actually smaller than many towns. In under thirty minutes, they reached the outskirts—a quiet, transitional zone between city and countryside.
Though sparse in population, the infrastructure was solid. The road they were on hadn't been maintained for years, yet it held up remarkably well. Jiang Hai's F650 rolled over it without issue.
Eventually, they arrived at what looked like an abandoned underground parking lot. But inside, it was anything but deserted—bright lights, loud music, and a sea of cars greeted them.
People noticed them the moment they arrived, especially Jiang Hai's bulky pickup. It stood out awkwardly among the sleek, modified compacts and muscle cars. This crowd didn't drive trucks.
As others stared at his F650, Jiang Hai took a moment to study them too. The crowd was young—mid-twenties to early thirties. Mostly white and Black, with a few Asian faces sprinkled in. Their outfits were eccentric at best: sunglasses at night, fur coats in spring, gold chains that could leash a pit bull. Women in revealing clothes perched on hoods, some already making out in parked cars.
It wasn't hard for Jiang Hai to conclude: this was not the wholesome crowd.
Once they found an open space, both Bavita and Jiang Hai parked their cars. As they stepped out, a tall Black man swaggered over. He wore a mink coat with no shirt, sunglasses, and had a tricolor mohawk that made him look like a punk-rock pheasant.
"Yo, man, you here to play?" he asked, rhythmically waving his hands as he walked. "Don't be clueless now—this ain't for pickup trucks. You gonna race or just park and chill? Don't swipe if you don't got a card, feel me?"
It was more rap than conversation.
"Chill, Little Louis," Bavita said, tossing him a cigarette. "He's with me—just here to hang out. No heat. You know I wouldn't bring a cop."
Louis squinted at Jiang Hai, nodded slowly, pointed at him with a smile, and shuffled off, satisfied with the explanation.
Jiang Hai stared after him, speechless. "So this is just racing, huh?"
"Of course. It's technically illegal, but worst case? A little community service," Bavita said with a grin. "I wouldn't mess with anything more serious—I've still got a future."
"You got drivers here as good as the ones in movies?" Jiang Hai asked. If it was relatively safe, he figured they might as well enjoy the show.
"You're asking the right guy," Jack King said, turning to Kama Clive. "Bavita's one of the top drivers around. Skill like his? He'll never go hungry."
"C'mon," Bavita said, modestly brushing it off. "There are always better drivers out there. But yeah, I'm in the top ten around here."
"Top ten?" Karma blinked. "So there are nine people even better than you? Are they here tonight?"
Her innocent curiosity earned a few chuckles. Bavita scratched his head awkwardly. "Well… some might be."