“Sure, we can stay,” I agree when we come to a stop at the gate that wraps around the track. “First, though, we’re going to race.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
I nod to the two stock cars sitting side by side on the track. “They’re not Formula One but you were right; you’re too big for those anyway.”
“I don’t get it.”
“We’re going head to head, five laps in those cars, to see who gets to take home the checkered flag.”
“You’re kidding,” he says. “Why would they let us do that? What if we fucking wreck them?”
“Guess that’s a chance the owners were willing to take,” I tell him, withholding the fact my payment for today’s signing event is collateral in case we do run them into the wall or each other. Jesus, now I’m thinking about us ramming into each other, minus the cars. “So, are we going to do this or not? If we are, it has to be now before the race starts.”
“Fuck yes, let’s go,” Winston agrees with a rare smile. “Just one question.”
“What’s that?” I ask, leading him to the gate guarded by security to get us on the track.
“What do I get when I win?” he asks, his grin widening.
“Who said you were going to win?”
“You’re too careful. You won’t put the pedal to the metal.”
“That’s what you think. Have you seen my heels?” I remark. “And if I win, I want you out of our parents’ house while I’m there. No more sleepovers.”
Winston’s face falls, like what I’m asking for is the worst thing imaginable.
“Deal?” I ask, offering him my palm to shake. “Clock’s ticking.”
“Fine,” he agrees, taking my hand and squeezing it. “But if I win, you have to come home for Christmas this year.”
“What?” I scoff. “Christmas?”
“Yes, Christmas. Your dad and Deb miss having you home. It’s not the same without you.”
“Okay,” I say with a heavy sigh. “If you win, I’ll come home this year for Christmas.”
“Then let’s fucking do this!”
Winston
* * *
I notice immediately these cars are different from the ones used in regular races. For one, they’ve got a passenger seat. “I’ll be riding with you,” a small, lean man says as he walks up to me, holding two helmets.
“You going to be my chaperone? Make sure I don’t do anything too crazy?” I ask him.
“Yeah, these things are set up kind of like driver’s ed vehicles. I got a brake on my side, stuff like that. Helps people keep from going into the curves too hot.”
“So, you guys have cars set up just for this? This is something you do frequently?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, folks come out and pay to ride around before most races, get a little thrill. That little lady you’re with asked us to get two cars set up and let you two rip around for a few laps. It’s not like a real race or anything though, we can’t have you two swapping paint out there. I hope you understand.”
“Oh absolutely, man,” I reassure him. “Can we go out first though to make sure they’re behind us?”
“If you can get wedged into the driver seat, heck yeah,” he says.
“I gotta make sure we come in first, even if it’s a technicality.” I grin at him as I throw a leg through the window and then bring up my other one, struggling to wedge myself into the car. I can see Zoe is still talking to the fellow who will be riding with her, so I think if I can get myself in here, I can surely bust out an early lead.
Once I’m in the car and get my helmet strapped onto my head, I drop the car into neutral and keep the clutch in while I crank the engine. I’ve never heard a car roar like this one, and I can feel the barely restrained power of the massive engine throbbing throughout the car.
“She said you know how to drive a clutch, so just drop her into first gear and take us on out onto the track. You know how to listen for when to shift, or you need to keep an eye on the tachometer?”
“I can play it by ear,” I reassure him as I ease the clutch. The car jerks violently and leaps forward, then the tires let out a pitiful squeak as I give it more gas before we finally begin to ease forward.
“Hey, where are you going?” I hear Zoe yell before we’re out of earshot.
“Ha!” I bark a laugh. “Let’s go before she tries to catch up!”
I run through the gears as we get out onto the track, and only seconds later, we’re roaring down the straightaway at over one hundred miles per hour.
We make it through the first two curves, but once we’re on the back of the track, I see Zoe’s car coming out of the curve. “Holy shit, she’s really hauling ass back there!” I snort.
“Yeah,” the fellow riding with me says as he cranks around in his harness to take a look. “I’ll bet her monitor is pissing himself. She went really high in that curve.”
“She won’t try to pass us, will she?” I ask in concern. I’m having a great time, living one of my personal dreams, and I would hate to mess up the car. I would hate it, but I’ll do it to make sure I beat Zoe in this race.
“She might try,” my copilot shrugs. “The monitor with her will probably hit the brakes on that though.”
“Well, let’s make sure it won’t be an issue.” I grin as I drop back a gear and slam the throttle down. The engine roars and the car leaps forward so powerfully it feels as if it wants to take flight. I see my passenger gently tap at his brake pedal as we head into the next curves, but when I hold the car steady right in the middle of the track he seems to relax, and we rocket back down the front stretch.
“Four more laps,” he says casually as we rumble past the pit row.
“Let’s make them memorable!” I cackle, thoroughly enjoying myself.
Zoe’s car has fallen back a bit, as her monitor is clearly being a bit heavy with his brake through the curves. That holds true through the rest of our time on the track, as she stays at least a turn behind while we whiz around the track.
When my passenger finally directs me to head back down the pit row, I’m almost relieved. This is the most powerful car I’ve ever been in, surpassing even my souped-up Camaro, and my hands are almost trembling from the adrenaline of keeping it under control.
“Holy shit, that was amazing!” I yell as I kill the engine, and start trying to clamber out of the car.
“I’ll come around and help you squeeze out,” my monitor says. “A lot of people end up falling and busting their ass when they try to get back through the window.”
He helps me get out of the car as Zoe pulls up behind us. I smile and wave at her, but even through the helmet I can see her scowling. “That wasn’t a race! You cheated!” she calls out to me as she struggles to get out of the car.
I rush over to help her and make sure she doesn’t inadvertently bust her ass trying to get out and yell at me. Laughing, I sweep her off her feet and swing her around before setting her down and helping her remove her helmet.