Logan
It was supposed to be simple—a night out at the racetrack, full of life, energy, and maybe, just maybe, the softening of Ella’s guarded heart toward me.
The air was warm, filled with the scent of gasoline and grilled meats, as I wandered through the maze of food vendors. I was in a good mood, an incredibly rare feeling for me. Ella seemed to be enjoying herself, and that made me think tonight might just be different.
I took my time selecting our food, eyeing stalls that sold fries drenched in cheese, corn dogs with a crisp exterior, and for a touch of sweetness, funnel cakes powdered with sugar.
“Logan! Is that you, buddy?” a voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to see Mike, the vendor I had known here for years. He ran one of the more popular food stalls, know
