One ordinary afternoon, after a long, dragging day at school, he walked up his driveway, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. But something immediately caught his eye—a sleek, bright blue McLaren parked right in front of the house, its paint gleaming under the sun like it had just rolled off a movie set. His jaw dropped.

“Yo… whose car is that?” he muttered, squinting at the luxury sports car. At first, he assumed it had to be one of his friend’s older brothers showing off or something. No way it was someone from his life.

He walked closer, slowly circling the car like he was approaching a wild animal. “This thing looks like it eats regular cars for breakfast,” he said to himself. “What is it doing in front of my house?”

Suddenly, the front door opened—and out walked Gaby. Hair tied up in a messy bun, sunglasses on, jersey swapped for something way too stylish for a normal Tuesday. She casually spun the keys around her finger like she was in a commercial.

“Surprise,” she said with a smirk, leaning against the McLaren like it was no big deal.

He froze. “Wait—what? No. That’s not yours. Tell me that’s not yours.”

“Oh, it’s mine,” she said, popping the door open and gesturing dramatically. “You like?”

He just stared at her, completely stunned. “Gaby. Where did you get the money for a McLaren?! Are you secretly a millionaire? Did you win the lottery? Did you rob a bank?!”

She laughed, completely unbothered. “Relax. I didn’t rob anything. I just… have my ways.”

“What does that even mean?!” he shouted, looking from her to the car like it was some kind of prank.

“Let’s just say,” she said, sliding into the driver’s seat, “you should never underestimate a girl who’s good at soccer… and even better at side hustles.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I swear, every time I think I understand you, you do something insane like this.”

She winked. “Get in. I’m taking you for a ride.”

Still shocked, he opened the passenger door and climbed in. “I’m gonna need a full explanation.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, revving the engine with a grin. “You’ll hear everything. But first—we’re stopping for slushies. In style.”