Vivian's POV
I felt my body being shaken rigorously.
I opened my eyes to the rays of sunlight and my college roommate giving me the death stare.
"What the hell is wrong with you Vivian?"
"What... what... just happened?" I stuttered.
My roommate scoffed "What's going to happen is you are going to lose your chances of entry for the world's best car racer if you don't stand up from that bed right now!" She yelled. Pulling my arms.
"Ruby?" I called.
She stopped to look at me. "Are you sick or something?"
"How is this possible?"
"What nonsense are you saying?" She yelled at me. Pointing to the wall clock in the room. The only thing I inherited from my mom.
"It's almost ten. You are still here, on your bed. Don't you want this?"
I spaced out.
This can't be happening.
"How's this possible?" I muttered
"Vivian?"
I ran out of my room. Went out to the roadside exactly as it was three years ago.
I was wearing the same clothes I wore on this day three years ago. Ruby was also wearing the same clothes. The only difference was that this time around she was the one waking me up.
I began to touch things. I could really feel them. I had also felt Ruby's arm on my body earlier. Which meant that I wasn't a ghost.
I went back into the apartment, sat on the floor. Just breathing. For almost twenty minutes.
Ruby stared at me, confusion evident in her eyes.
Everything that had happened, the accident, the baby, my legs felt like a memory. A bad dream.
Just to be sure I touched my face, my stomach, everything was whole. The knees that should have had three screws were perfectly fine, the baby, never conceived.
I got a second chance.
My phone buzzed. Racing show reminder 12 PM. In less than two hours John Mitchell will see me race and offer to sponsor my career.
Or wouldn't he?
The alarm rang exactly the same time it had rung in the past.
"Hey Vivian!"
I turned around to see Maxwell, my neighbour.
He had run in the same way he did in the past and stood at the exact spot he had stood.
Yes, I remember details especially because I saw that day as the best day of my life.
But not anymore.
I needed one more thing as confirmation that I had gone back in time.
I went straight to my wardrobe, pulled out a little big box from inside and then opened it.
The only thing I had inherited from my father. His racing kits. Helmet, gloves, and even his racing sportswear, all folded and arranged the exact way I had done it.
"I am really alive," I muttered.
"Vivian? Are you okay?"
"Yeah... yeah... I am." I stuttered.
"You sure? You seem like you are crying"
I hadn't even noticed it until the tear dropped down my cheeks.
Then just before closing the box my eye caught a white paper.
I picked it up and it was my father's handwriting.
I couldn't remember seeing this paper on this day. Well, I wouldn't be surprised if I hadn't noticed it.
I was very happy and trying to prepare for the race, so everything else didn't matter.
I picked up the paper and flipped it.
It read: ME AND GONZO. BEFORE EVERYTHING WENT WRONG 1997.
My chest tightened.
Gonzo. Gonzales. Marcus's father.
I remembered Marcus.
Gonzalez was the corrupt politician who had introduced my father to his bad drinking habit which ruined him.
Could Marcus have known me?
Marcus was the quiet mechanical engineering student always sketching cars, watching races from the back of the crowd.
Thinking of him, I could remember that he always showed up everywhere I was.
I never paid him any attention except for one time when he tried talking to me after a race, but then John showed up and I had to leave.
What could be the connection between Marcus, my father's death and my second chance at life?
I placed the letter back. There had been so much I had been blind to.
****
I arrived at the University track at 1:30. Students were already setting up. My beat-up Honda Civic waited in the pit area-modified with money from three part-time jobs.
This exact spot was where John Mitchell had seen me.
"Hey."
I heard a nervous whisper. I turned around to see Marcus standing behind me.
"Uhm, that's a custom suspension setup."
I smiled.
He had a big, solid body with messy hair and he held a worn notebook covered in sketches.
"Yeah, I did it myself."
"Cool, but uhm..." he paused moving closer and taking a better look at my car. "The angle is wrong, you will get oversteer in tight corners." He pointed "The rear seat is too low. You'll lose control if you steer too hard."
"And you know all this because...?"
He held out his notebook "Studying mechanical engineering. Major in car dynamics. And I watch a lot of races too."
"You race?"
"No, I just watch."
Of course, I knew all that information but I had to keep the conversation flowing.
Marcus never approached me on this day. There had to be a reason why the past was changing.
"You should fix that? You would get an accident if you don't."
"No I won't."
He smiled "Trust me. You will crash if you take turn seven"
"Why do you care?"
"I don't. I just feel it's going to be a waste if such a nice car is ruined by a bad Setup." He said then walked away.
Back then I remember seeing him pacing back and forth not so far from where I stood, his eyes fixed on my car.
But I saw him as a weirdo so I walked away and didn't give him a chance to talk. I guess he was trying to warn me.
I had spun out in turn seven, it looked dramatic and impressive. That was what drew John's attention to me.
I felt like fixing it now might change the course of history.
But I grabbed my tools and fixed it.
At exactly 2:00PM I was done.
"Vivian Chen?"
I recognised the voice immediately.
John Mitchell. He stood in front of me, tall handsome and in designer clothes that looked expensive than my car.
"Yes, I am" I replied coldly. "What do you want from me?"
"I love to spot talent early. I have heard about you, seen you race in the local town."
"I see" I replied sounding uninterested.
"I want you on my team, you've got the look, underdog story, dead father, unavailable mother and a rough past." He said it casually just like he had said in the past.
He said it like my trauma was a product.
Those were the same words that made me fall for him. I thought he had good intentions, he really wanted to help me but I saw the truth now. In my past life, he had seen my pain and knew exactly how to use it.
My body stiffened as he kept on talking. Memories of what happened in the future flashed through my mind.
I looked down to where all my tools were and then grabbed the tyre iron and swung it towards john’s face.
