AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Half a second. Hot damn,” I say, and curiosity hits. “Where is Rivers?”
“In seventh,” Derek tells me because Mike doesn’t care. Boone is far enough back; he isn’t a concern.
“A few cars are coming down pit road. Not our concern,” Mike says.
There’s enough fuel for me to finish, if just barely. “Tires feel good.” I picked up two on the left side, which shaved some time on my last pit. They’re holding up surprisingly well.
“Lead grows to .522,” Mike says.
“He’s moving to the inside,” Derek says. “The 22 is the second-best car on the road today, so expect him to move here.”
“Your lead is good, but it isn’t secure yet,” Mike chimes in.
“The fuck it isn’t,” I say. “We’re going for a repeat here, boys.”
That’s funny because Mike is twenty years older than us, and I called him a boy. He doesn’t respond.
I move down, preventing the block, and he falls back.
“The 22 will try again,” Derek says, warning me.
“And he’ll fail again.”
I block once more. The lead shrinks, but it doesn’t matter.
“White flag,” Mike says.
I smile and hope the camera picks it up. “Checkered flag,” I say back. “See you both in victory lane.”
It’s a repeat and my first win of the season.
∞∞∞
Another win means another burnout. I could give the fans smoke but decide on something better.
The white smoke thickens and grows while burning up my tires. After judging it long enough, I let go and glance in my rearview mirror. Sure enough, there are flames on the track behind me. The crowd screams.
I jump out and grab my checkered flag. As always, the cameraman follows, and then the reporter shows up.
Interviews should be in victory row. The tradition is gone, but one that needs to come back. This time is for the fans. Still, no one cares about my opinion. They should.
Helmet off and safety gear pulled back, I wait for the reporter to get started.
“Hi, Chris. How are you?”
He ignores the question. “Congrats on tonight’s win here in Texas. How are you feeling?”
I’m very thirsty. “It feels great. Incredible. What can I say? It was a great race, and it all came together perfectly.” It’s all true. I feel great.
There’s satisfaction after every race. A feeling like an objective is complete and ready to be marked off—assuming you didn’t crash out or earn penalties.
My spot in the playoffs is assured, and I’ll have some pleased sponsors. Not bad.
“You won here last year, too. Is this going to become a tradition?”
I smile, amused at the idea. “That’s a great question, and I guess we’ll find out next year.”
“You consistently had one of the fastest cars in this race. You worked up the field and held off competition for the final stage. Can you share with everyone how that happened?”
