Work Text:
For a race car, GraceCar hasn't been on the open road much. Not without her parents at least. Being out here with Car-Steph is amazing. Their tires roll perfect along the tarmac, the hot sun beating down on their metal, engines revving. Only now does GraceCar realize she was made for this. No matter what she grew up thinking.
"How do you feel?" Car-Steph yells, wind whipping past them. She's grinning, eyes focused on the road as she soars down it with ease.
"I feel amazing!" GraceCar calls back, following behind diligently. The thought of how many car's tire trails they're following after... It makes her interior race with thoughts. With dreams of the true race car she can be. "Thanks for taking me out on the real roads, Car-Steph."
"Of course," she replies. "You're a race car, I had to see what you were made of. I could tell by the look of you, you'd be good at this.
"Really?"
"I wouldn't lie to you, GraceCar," she continues, "not to a friend like you. Not a car like you, either.
"Grace..."
"Did you hear that?"
Car-Steph skids to a stop, her wheels satisfyingly rolling against the road before stopping entirely in a smooth motion. She leaves tire marks behind. Car-Steph has always been the kind of car to leave marks behind, she was always going to be one of those cars to have a real impact on the world. GraceCar slows to a stop behind her.
"Hear what?" Car-Steph asks, seemingly oblivious to any one calling out GraceCar name at all. "All I hear is you, me, and the open road, GraceCar."
Of course, it's nothing. GraceCar shakes her hood, brushing away the sound. There's no one here but them.
"You're right. I'm probably just stuck in my interior about it. I'm a race car, but sometimes..." GraceCar glances away, her tires shifting against the concrete as she debates how much to say. But Car-Steph makes her feel so safe, so ready to be honest. She could pour out her engine, and Car-Steph wouldn't judge her. "Sometimes I don't feel like much of a race car at all."
"Oh, come on GraceCar," Car-Steph rolls her headlights at the very idea. She revs up, circling back to stop ahead of the GraceCar. They're hood to hood now. "You're one of the best racers I've ever seen, and I really mean that. You may not leave tire marks just yet, but I know you will."
"I pray to Jesus Carst that I do," she replies with a small smile, and Car-Steph laughs in good humor. She may be an Car-gnostic Car, but she always allows GraceCar her Car-faith.
"Grace...?"
GraceCar blinks again, headlights sweeping the open road around them again. There's no way that... What is that?
"You didn't hear that?" GraceCar pushes, a fear creeping up on her. Who's calling her name? And why are they saying it wrong? "Someone... They're calling for me."
"Don't be silly, GraceCar. It's just you. And me. And--"
"Grace?"
Grace jumps, hands slapping down onto the kitchen table to cover her notebook. She blinks, sitting rigid in her chair as her eyes dart up to—
"Steph..." she breathes out, glancing down at the cracks in her fingers. Thank the Lord she covered it in time. GraceCar and Car-Steph aren't really something she wants to share. Not yet, anyway. "What are you doing here?"
With a furrow in her brows, Steph drops her bag on the ground. The Chasity home is like a second home to her by this point, she'd confided that in Grace not long ago. Grace has never had a friend as close as Steph, never had a friend that her mom likes so much, never had a friend that... This is why she can't share the cars with Steph. Stephanie Lauter is cool, and she likes Grace. If she knew the truth. Well, Grace worries she wouldn't come over to the Chasity home so much anymore.
"You invited me over, dork," Steph says with a laugh, like it's obvious. She slinks down into the chair across from Grace. "Your mom let me in. She said you seemed busy--and she was right. Damn, getting a head start on the Lit homework without me? You're as big a nerd as Pete and Ruth."
Grace laughs along with her, pulling the notebook closer to. "Yeah... You know me. Dad calls me a workaholic like him," she says, hoping her smile is more convincing than it feels.
The way Steph tilts her head, eyes narrowed down to where Grace's fingers desperately clutch the notebook. She raises a brow, a wider smile taking over her face.
"Oh. That's not homework, is it?" she prods. And clearly she's joking. This is what friends do, right?
But Grace has had too many people take her books before. One time Max Jagerman stole her notebook, posted all her drawings of Jesus Christ across the school. Even the naughty ones she hid in the back, away from her mom. It'd been so... Humiliating.
"Are you being a real teenager for once, Chasity?" Steph continues, her smile and laugh so bright it might be contagious if Grace wasn't on the verge of a heart attack right now. Her fingers dig in deep--surely she must have paper cuts across all her fingers now... "Let me guess. Smutty diary entry? Sexy drawings? Hm... Lewd bible quotes?"
"No!" Grace objects. "It's nothing. It's just homework, nothing weird. I don't do stuff like that."
At that Steph pauses, her smile falling. "Oh. Yeah, sure," she says, pulling out her own notebook, ready for why they're really here. "Sorry if I—"
"It's fine," Grace cuts in quickly, flicking the pages so quickly she hopes Steph can't even catch an upside down glimpse. "Let's just—?"
"Right. Yeah. So. Lord of the Flies?"
Grace nods, clutching her pen like the sweat built up on her palms won't make her drop it any second. "Lord of the Flies."
Time passes, and Grace forgets about her Cars fanfiction. The sooner she forgets, the less likely she is to spill to Steph what's really hiding in her notebook. They take a break halfway through the study session, and Grace heads off to the bathroom, only to return to—
"Don't look at that!" She bolts across the room, slamming the notebook pages down onto Steph's fingers where she leans over. Reading what Grace has to assume is... No. Oh Lord, please no... "Steph—! I— I don't— I didn't—"
"Grace," Steph says, and she doesn't sound mad. No... She's... She's laughing. Wait? She's laughing? "It's okay."
"No it's not!" Grace protests, taking the notebook again and cradling it to her chest. "You're my only friend, Steph! And now you know I've written Cars fanfiction about you. You're gonna tell everyone what a freak I am, and everything is going to get worse again, and my mom is gonna be so upset I lost another friend, and—"
"Grace. Grace, stop."
Steph clutches her by the shoulders, shaking her gently, but it's enough to break her from her spiral. For now.
"Do you really think I don't already know what a freak you are?" she asks, honestly and earnestly, and she's smiling. She's not mad. She's not laughing at Grace. She's... She's being nice. "You are the weirdest person I've ever met. You have goddamn Ruth Fleming beat. I know you, Grace. You're my friend, and I like my weird little Jesus Freak friend that talks about spunk on the school gym and... apparently writes Cars fanfiction about us being friends as cars."
"You... You do?"
"You are by far the most interesting person I know," Steph adds, pulling her hands away and glancing down to the notebook. "And I was pretty engrossed in that story of yours."
"You were?"
Steph nods. "Yeah. I mean. Is GraceCar ever going to admit what a great race car she is? How will her friendship with Car-Steph unfold? And who is that mysterious voice? My guess is Car-God, but I guess I'll have to wait for the next issue."
Grace decides maybe telling Steph that the voice was her probably isn't a good idea. Instead she says, "he isn't called Car-God. He's just God, because when God sings with his creations, the cars will be there too."
"Oh, of course." She nods seriously, and Grace can tell she finds it funny but... Grace appreciates that she holds back her laughter. "Now, as much as I'd love to discuss your Cars fanfic all night, I do kinda have some homework to finish."
"Right!" All worries about her notebook gone, Grace sits back down, Steph returning to her place too. "Where were we?"
"Question nine."
"Oh, yeah. So—"