True Confessions: Of A Simple Girl

Leisha MacAvoy is a twenty-two year old looking for something. A new outlook. A new life. New everything. After the chance of a lifetime for a place at a dream job she's determined to make things better. Will her life continue to spiral out of control or will the right people take her in and understand her? Follow her as she has the hardest year and creates the best love story story for herself that she can't bear to live anymore.

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1. May 27th – Eve of the Coca Cola 600


Note: All of this is a purely from my imagination. If it's popular I don't own any part of it. If you don't recognize it then I made it up! Thanks for reading and I love to hear what everyone thinks! 

 

Chapter One
Part One:
May 27th – Eve of the Coca Cola 600


Some say I’m a simple girl. I prefer to disagree, but everyone’s entitled to his or her own opinions. Personally, I find it hard to see the simplicity to my life. Just because I smile and am soft spoken, everyone that meets me assumes right away that I’m this sweet and innocent, pure, simple girl. No one takes the time to sit and talk to me to find out just exactly who I am, what kind of person I've grown to be. They get their mind made up in the first initial meeting and that’s that. 

I’m twenty-two and have lived a life of many different colors; my life is anything but simple. Most people couldn't dream of living a life like I have. Full of happiness, fulfillment, greed, and everything so horrific you can’t imagine, but most of all it was filled with mounds of endless regret. 

I’m the oldest twenty-two year old I know. I left home shortly after I turned eighteen never looking back. I survived the only way I knew how. Stealing, lying, whoring myself around on the busiest street corner I could find. None of it was anything to be proud of, but it was what had to be done in order to live to see the next day. You’ll do anything for cash when you need a fix or cold and hungry. 

Trust me.

The last five years of my life were the ones that held all of the regret I had. But I was trying my best to straighten things out. Get my life back on a track that I could be proud of. Which is what brings me to where I am today. 

Eight months of intense rehab and mind clearing later I had a great job, one that I had dreamed of having all my life, a columnist for the highly published NASCAR Scene. The perfect job for someone who loved the fast cars and the drama they would create.

I won’t lie it wasn’t easy getting the job. Throughout everything in my life I had managed to keep a clean record, so I had no problem there. Sticking around to graduate high school before I took off helped also, but having no college experience what so ever had a big effect on things. 

The initial interviews were rough, doubtful even, but somehow I left an impression. One that had them calling me back in no time. 

Maybe these people didn’t think I was so simple.

I was instructed to write a mock article and have it back to them the next day by a certain time. Apparently they liked what they seen. I figured it had either been their way of seeing if they could break me under the pressure or to see if I could come out gracefully. If they expected me to crack then it had defiantly backfired. If there was one thing I was good at it was how well I worked under pressure. My knack for writing didn’t hurt either. 

Suffice to say they hired me on the spot that afternoon. 

So here I sat in the local Charlotte Hooters waiting for my first subject, victim of sorts. I left the arrangements of the time and place up to the drivers PR seeing as how it was one of their busiest weekends of the season. Looking around the establishment and its surroundings I was starting to think it had been a bad idea. 

I took a deep breath as my nerves slowly started to ball up in the back of my throat, my eyes drifting shut in the process. Being out of the loop mentally and physically for the last 5 years also meant I had no idea who was on top of the charts of the Nascar circuit. Which only meant one thing – I had no idea who I was meeting with and that all in it’s self scared me shitless. 

Not to mention I had no angle, no muse, and completely no idea on where I should take the article. There was a line you could and couldn’t cross with people where their personal life was concerned.

So that angle, for the moment anyway, was out of the question.

I had my list of the usual, standard questions you’d ask anyone in a high profile business. But still, that left me with no idea as to where to take the article. 

Of course I had done a little reading and his seasons past looked impressive, as did his personality. There were two Busch championships in a row on his resume and a rookie season, in the higher ranks of the Nascar circuit, that wasn’t looking too good. 

I should have my article right there, right? Wrong. 

The first thing any reporter in the business is going to want to know is what went wrong with the move up. Was he not ready? Was he really just a fluke? The reporter that got to the story first was the smart and lucky one. Everyone was either tired of reading the different variations of why his career had gone so sour so quickly or they were all eager to hear everyone’s opinions. 

But just like with everything else, they were all entitled to their own opinions and after only a couple nights of catching up on this particular person… frankly, I was tired of hearing everyone’s different opinions. 

So here I sat. A ball a nerves as I watched across the room. He was every bit of the 5’ 11, 180 pounds that he was advertised as and that did nothing more then send my body into a state of nervousness that I couldn’t remembering being in, in a long time.

 

Chapter One:

Martin Truex Jr. wandered casually through the door of the eating establishment looking for what was supposed to be his interviewer. He hadn’t been to thrilled to learn earlier in the day that his pre race commitment was an appointment with another magazine columnist. Usually it was some sponsor related event that he would have and have to answer a few questions for, on a stage. Not sitting in front of some stranger pouring out his life story for them to misconstrue and put their own twist on – again. 

The questions he could and would end up having to handle, just not today. Not on the one day he had to have a little fun with. The busch races were rarity for him now and if there was one thing he knew he needed was one race that he had nothing riding on. No points. No wins. Just get out there and race his heart out like he thought he remembered how. 

Martin nudged Josh in the arm as he followed in behind him, “Alright, where’s this old dude I’m supposed to tell my life story to?” 
Josh snickered as he headed towards the bar, “Back corner, she’s the only one with a laptop.” 

Martin froze in his step as he took in the girl straight ahead of him. She wasn’t old and she wasn’t a guy. Most defiantly she wasn’t what he had expected at all. 

“Where are you going?”
”You need a babysitter?” Josh asked with a laugh, “I’ll come over and get you when we’ve got to head back.” 

Martin nodded his head as he turned back around. He didn’t have a good feeling about this one, not at all.


Leisha looked away quickly as she noticed him spotting her. The last thing she wanted him doing was catching her staring like an idiot. He would think she was a big enough idiot when the interview was over with, she was sure. 

She found herself suddenly overcome with an amount of nervousness that was in fact scaring her. She didn’t know what to say to him. She didn’t know where to start the interview. Did she shake his hand or not? Did she stand up or stay sitting? The questions rang rapidly through her mind as she looked up and watched him approach her. 

With her body in a tense state of confusion she kept her spot in the corner booth and motioned for him to sit down across from her. All the while managing to keep her smile. Silently taking a deep breath she extended her hand and prayed for the best. 

“Leisha Macavoy.” 
Martin timidly took her hand and shook it with a nod of his head, “Martin.” 

Leisha smiled and pulled her hand back slowly to her body. Something seemed off and she wasn’t so sure that it was her anymore. The look of aggravation run through out his features and his pretty boy face, causing her to be uneasier about things than she had before. 

Carefully closing her laptop she picked up the note pad in front of her and attempted to make another effort at introducing herself. 

“So I just started working at the magazine and-“
”What magazine is it this time?”

Leisha pursed her lips together as she looked him over – her brow sure to have been furrowed also. Had he actually interrupted her? 

“Scene.”
“Ah,” Martin said leaning on the table in front of him, “Then this means this is going to be one of those big articles.”

Leisha unpursed her lips and took in a small piece from the bottom. Honestly, she couldn’t answer his question. 

“I don’t know.”
”You don’t know?”
”Well like I started to say a minute ago,” She said sitting up rather quickly, “I’m new there and their not telling me much and I don’t feel like I’m in a comfortable enough of a position to ask a lot of questions. I just do what they tell me to.”

Martin nodded his head and sat back in his seat. He didn’t know what to think about her or the idea of giving another interview for an article. Especially when it didn’t seem like the person knew what they were doing. 

“Do you wanna order something?”

Leisha shook her head and watched as he attempted to call one of the waitresses over. Obviously he had more on his mind then answering questions. She couldn’t blame him though, she hadn’t actually given him anything to make it seem like it was worth it. 

She watched as he outwardly flirted with the tall blonde in front of them. It was impressive, his demeanor, she hadn’t actually had a lot of guys flirt with girls in her presence. 

Leisha cleared her throat and folded her arms over her chest. She was growing tired rather quickly of watching him flirt with the leggy blonde. He was finished ordering and she had an article to write. Whether she knew what she was writing about or not, he was wasting both of their valuable time. 

“Sorry,” Martin said turning his attention back to her, “I’m hungry do you mind if I eat?”
Leaning forward Leisha eyed him, “You’re quite the Casanova aren’t you?” 
“Do what?”
”I can just see it now.” Leisha said laughing, “Twenty-five years old. You’ve got the world at your fingertips. Not to mention you race cars for a living. I’ve bet you’ve got all the girls screaming your name.”

Martin sat back in his seat continuing to eye her skeptically. She was a hard one to read. Timid at first and now she was rattling off things that were, honestly, a little bold for her to be saying. 

Not fazed by her obvious jabs he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I guess you could say that.” 

Leisha laughed to her self. She had been so fooled by all of the research she had been doing on him the last couple days. He wasn’t anything like she had expected. And now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to put the full effort into a “different” kind of article for this guy, because he didn’t appear so different after all.

He stood for everything she had grown to hate about a guy. At least so far it seemed that way. 

“What’s so funny?” Martin asked raising his eyebrow as she continued to smirk, “Are you going to throw your pitch at me? Tell me what this article is about so I can get this over with?”
Leisha shrugged her shoulders and turned her attention to the window for a moment, “Honestly Martin, I don’t have a pitch to throw and I have no idea what I’m going to write about.”
“Are you kidding me?”

Leisha shook her head, her tone turned serious and the smirk completely wiped off of her face. 

“I thought since I had never seen you before that I would just be getting a feel for you this first meeting. Maybe see what your personality was like in real life and not on paper, but I couldn’t tell you that I like anything I’ve seen so far.” 
“You’re a little blunt aren’t you?”
“I guess you could say that.” Leisha said sarcastically as she shrugged her shoulders

Martin took a moment to take in the girl in front of him. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that something about this meeting wouldn’t go right. 

He stood throwing a few dollars on the table, “Well I can tell you what Ms. Macavoy, I don’t like what I see either. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to commit myself to another one of these sessions where you break me and my personality down.”
”Why’s that?” Leisha asked tilting her head

Biting his tongue momentarily Martin leaned over on the table bracing him self close to her face.

“Because miss Macavoy, I take that shit to much from to many people here lately and I don’t have to take it from you.” 

Leisha laughed to herself as she held her stern appearance. She watched as he walked away from her, storming out rather, of the building. He was mad at the world and it was all her fault. 

Shaking her head she jotted a few notes on her paper before they slipped from her mind. She hadn’t meant to get him riled up. She honestly had never meant to even say anything out of the way. The Casanova comment had truthfully just been a joke, but with his reaction to it she could see where it was going. He defiantly wasn’t the type of guy they had portrayed on paper for every one to see. Maybe because all of his other interviews hadn’t gone quite like hers had. But it didn’t take an idiot to see there was more to the person then he was letting anyone around him see. 

She packed away her stuff as she smiled brightly. She was sure she had finally found her twist on an article that was sure to blow people away. 


“What was that all about?”

Leisha’s head snapped at the voice. She recognized it slightly, but wasn’t too sure. 

“Excuse me?”
”Josh Snider,” he said extending his hand
“Oh, Martins PR. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Josh said smiling as he shifted on his foot, “What the hell just happened?”
“I pissed him off.”

Leisha bit her lip and laughed lightly. 

“Really, I didn’t mean to, but I just got going. Needless to say he doesn’t intending on finishing the interview. Or start it even.” 
Josh stared at the girl standing in front of him and back out the window to his truck where martin was waiting on him, “What’d you say to him?”
”I called him a Casanova.”

They both laughed slightly. Leisha more so then Josh. She knew someone could find the humor in it. 

“Sorry,” Josh said holding up his hand, “But that is kind of funny.”
“Yeah, but if I don’t get that interview, I’m going to get fired. And right now my life depends on this job.” 
Josh shook his head checking the time, “Do you have plans the rest of the evening? I could get you tickets to the race and maybe you could observe? Or ask some of his friend’s questions? Isn’t’ that what you reporter people do?”
”Um, yeah.” She said shaking her head, “I would accept but I have plans tonight, I’m sorry.”

Josh took a step back towards the door shrugging his shoulders. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be in touch and you’ll get that interview.”

Leisha smiled to herself. She didn’t need Josh telling her she would get it. She knew with out a doubt she’d get the interview she needed. 



The rest of the evening for Leisha Macavoy had brought nothing but bad memories and bouts of sadness that she truly wished she could get rid of and forget. With every corner turned and every step taken she would find something that reminded her of the way things used to be. Everything from her childhood to the last day she spent at home. Which hadn’t been anything she really wanted to remember. 

After telling Josh the lie about having plans she realized that the best thing she should have done was went to the race and took him up on his offer. It wasn’t, however, what she wanted to do and ultimately that had won out. 

After her experience that afternoon with Martin she was more afraid than anything to submit her self to an entire evening around him. He needed time to cool off from her short, probably more than anything, uncalled for remarks. 

A laugh escaped her mouth at the thought as she unlocked her apartment door. The interview, if that’s really what you wanted to call it, had been entertaining to say the least. For the most part he wasn’t anything like someone she would surround herself with. But she had to keep reminding herself she wasn’t there to date the guy. Just get his story. And with the way she was sure he hated her now getting his story was going to be a challenge. 

Leisha plopped her stuff down on the kitchen table and headed for her answering machine. 

“That’s alright Mr. Truex. I always like a challenge.” She said speaking softly to herself. 

The lights flashed brightly on the white machine and she wondered who would be calling her. Since her move to Charlotte she hadn’t given her number to many people. In fact she had only given it two different people. 

Finally giving up on guessing Leisha hit the button as she took a seat and watched out the window at the many skyscrapers that aligned her apartment building. 

A deep friendly voice, one she recognized right away, filled her hollow apartment as he spoke her name. 

“Leisha, this is Josh, the Casanova’s PR. I think it would be a really good idea if you tried making it to the race tomorrow. The rest of the weeks pretty much booked and he’s got some free time tomorrow around lunch. If you’re interested give me a call.” 

Leisha slumped back in her chair as she took her gaze from the window and laid it on the phone. Did she really want to go to a race tomorrow and have him hate that she’s there? She had to get the interview done one way or another. She wasn’t one to stall about anything, but she was pretty sure she had pissed him off really good. 

Another clicking of the answering machine filled the room and broke her thoughts. The next voice wasn’t one she had expected at all. It wasn’t friendly like Josh’s had been and she’d have given anything to never hear it again. 

Not giving him a chance to finish many words Leisha hit the button cutting him off. 

“How in fucks name did you get this number?” 

She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. Just herself, but she’d have done anything to have the question answered. Having that man back in her life was the last thing she needed at the moment or ever if she was really being truthful about it. He had managed to screw things up for her – more than she had managed to – once and she wasn’t about to let him do it again.

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