Authors: K.M. Golland
“No, wait a minute.” I turned to Bryce. “I don’t want a
private session. I want to race you with others on the track. That’s only if
you are not afraid of obstacles?” He deliberated my suggestion for a short
while then agreed, paying for 20 laps as general public patrons. We were given
helmets and hair nets. I laughed uncontrollably when Bryce put his on, but even
with the horrid white shower cap thingy, he still looked incredibly hot.
“Laugh all you want, Hunny. I will be the one laughing when
we are done here.”
“Pfft, so you think!” We were each seated in a kart, mine
was red and Bryce’s blue.
Red is always faster, take that, Mr. Soon To Be
Loser Clark.
I had managed to study the large outdoor track before we were
called for our race. When I was a teenager and had raced stock cars with Dad, I
had always analysed the tracks beforehand to gain an advantage, and today was
no different. There was a long straight and two slightly smaller ones, a couple
of tight bends, a hairpin, and two really good sweeping corners. Overall, it
was a very good track.
I could feel my nerves butterflying in my stomach. This
wasn’t necessarily a bad thing though, as I’d always experienced nerves before
the start of a race when I was younger. I would jiggle in my seat—adjust my
belts—check my visor—and stretch my neck. But as soon as that green flag went
down, the nerves disappeared and my focus took over. So these butterflies
infiltrating my abdomen were a welcome reminder that I was about to get down
and serious.
We sat lined up on the starting grid next to each other,
five rows back with approximately thirteen other people ranging in ages from
twelve to maybe fifty. He looked over at me, and I could see the thrilled, but
competitive, glint in his eye. He put his hand to his helmet, then pushed it out
again, to signal that he blew me a kiss. I, on the other hand, do not
fraternise with the enemy and stuck my tongue out at him instead.
Um,
Alexis, apparently you have a helmet on and he cannot see your tongue.
Shaking
my head at my own idiocy, I decided to stick my thumb to my helmet and twinkle
my fingers, indicating a raspberry instead. I’m almost certain he would have
smirked, but I didn’t hang around to find out as we were given the green flag
and off I went.
Bryce shot out quick, following his inside lane behind the
young man in front. Both of them had to go around the lady ahead of them who
apparently hadn’t noticed the race had started. I moved out of formation almost
instantly, as the young child in front of me had not yet figured out his
accelerator from his brake.
Poor kid
. I wanted to stop and help him but
my inner bloodthirsty racing alter ego took over, forcing me to speed off in
pursuit. I slotted in just behind Bryce, putting me in fourth place. Bryce was
third, the young man he followed in second and a mystery person in first. I
knew I had to stay with him to have any chance of winning. From past
experience, I knew these karts became heavy as your arms became tired, so if
the size comparison of Bryce and my biceps was anything to go by, I was pretty
sure my arms were bound to feel tired well before his.
Bryce showed signs of impatience as he swerved from side to
side behind the young man in front. I smiled, because I got the sense this
would lead to an opportunity to pass him, so I stayed close and waited. He
bumped the young man ever so slightly which allowed me to take the outside lane
into one of the smaller straights. I pressed my foot down, accelerating past
him and his young nuisance, putting me into second place. Unfortunately, my
lead did not last long, as he made up ground when I underestimated the large
sweeping corner.
Shit. Crap. Balls.
I had not yet managed to get a good
feel for the kart, and had swung the back end out slightly, allowing him to
come up the inside and stay there abreast with me down the long straight.
The second sweeping bend approached as we rocketed along.
Bryce had the inside lane which gave me a choice to either fall in behind him
or stay in the hope he would not slide out too much and push me off the track.
I opted to keep my composure as it was too early in the race to try anything
brash, so, I did the right thing and slotted in behind him as we entered the
corner.
One lap down and 19 to go, my adrenalin was pumping and I
felt good. Nineteen laps was a long time, though, and if I were to have any
chance of beating him, I needed to formulate a strategy. There are times when
racing where you need to be aggressive, assert your dominance, and intimidate
your opponents, but there are also times where you need to be submissive,
follow the leader and lay dormant like a sleeping volcano. The thing about
sleeping volcanos are, they explode, fire away, and become quite lethal. My
strategy was going to be the latter; follow the leader and quietly wait for the
right opportunity. Sort of like a snake in the grass, waiting for its chance to
strike.
I followed him quite closely for the next 15 laps, weaving
in and out and around the majority of the rest of the field. My co-driver habit
of looking past the racers ahead of me, and into the field beyond, was not lost
on me as a driver. Doing this proved to be handy when there was crash or a
youngster accidently going the wrong way.
Poor kid!
My motherly
instincts kicked in again, and I desperately wanted to help the little guy, but
I couldn’t. Not now. I had to beat Bryce, there was no other alternative.
He kept turning his head round to see if I was still there,
I think he was trying to entice me to make a move.
I’m not stupid, Mr.
Clark, I know what you’re doing.
This snake is not going to take the
bait
. The mystery person was also still out in front, and I would catch
glimpses of him momentarily when we entered the straights. With three laps to
go, and my arms holding their own, I decided I would pick up the pace. I didn’t
want to try and overtake Bryce just yet, my plan had been to do that with just
under two laps remaining, but he locked up the brakes going into the hairpin,
allowing me to gain better momentum, therefore putting me in the lead now
whether I liked it or not. I had no choice but to floor it, with my heart
pounding and my adrenalin levels increasing as I sped off.
I took every corner as tightly as I possibly could, making
my arms feel the weight of the kart as I held it together. I couldn’t look
back, I knew he would not be far behind, and as I turned onto the straight, the
white flag was dropped indicating it was the final lap. Mystery guy was only a
couple of kart lengths ahead now. Either he got held up or I had made up a lot
of ground. I narrowed my sights on him and kept a kart length between us. As we
entered the hairpin, I could hear the engine of Bryce’s kart close behind. He
gave me a little ‘love’ tap, bumping me forward, and letting me know he was
there.
Oh that’s how it’s going to be is it?
I kept a firm grip on the steering wheel and came as close
as I could to the mystery person in front. Bryce was right up my backside now,
and I had to make the executive decision as to which side he would try and pass
me on. I guessed he would be his cocky self and pass on the outside, so swung
out to the right then gently nudged my front left hand wheel into the mystery
person’s back right one. This sent him slightly to the right, blocking Bryce’s
attempted pass route and slowing them both down. I turned hard to the left and
floored it across the finish line.
I won! I freaking won!
I let go of
the steering wheel, and put both hands in the air.
Take that, Mr. I-Never-Lose
Clark.
The race steward directed me into the pits where I came to a
stop. Bryce pulled up alongside of me, and we stepped out of our karts at the
same time. Although I was over the moon, I was still a little nervous about
beating him and felt a bit reluctant in removing my helmet.
Don’t be silly
Alexis. Take it off and boast your little heart out.
I removed my helmet
and the awful hair net along with it, and watched hesitantly as Bryce did the
same. He smiled from ear to ear, and as I looked at him, I mouthed the words ‘I
win’. He smirked and flashed his burning approval which settled any nerves I
had about how he would react.
Mystery person pulled up behind my kart and leaped out of
his seat. He marched right up to me, lifting his visor and displaying an
expression which was far from pleased.
“Don’t look so fucking pleased with yourself bitch. That
move was a dog’s act.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Who the fuck are you, dipshit?
I
was shocked, how rude, and to act this way in front of children, what a wanker.
“It’s just a race. You might want to calm down.” I stepped
aside, in order to get away from this nasty pile of testosterone-fuelled pig
shit that thought he was God’s gift to go-kart racing.
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down.”
Bryce was standing in between us almost instantly and was
now right up in the raging lunatic’s face.
Go for the Trachea, my love!
“What did you call my girlfriend?”
Girlfriend? Sounds very
high school!
He was beyond furious and staring wildly at the prick.
“The bitch spun me off the track.”
Bitch? I’ll give you
bitch, knob head.
“I did not. I gave you a gentle nudge. You were holding me
up.” I turned to leave. “Come on Bryce, let’s just go.”
Bryce grabbed him by the shirt. “Apologise, now.” I swear he
was ready to rip his head off.
“Fuck off.” Mystery-man leaned forward and head-butted Bryce
with his helmet. The knock to Bryce’s head stunned him for just a second, but
after that second elapsed, Bryce was ready to well and truly take the fucker out.
I held his arm back. “No, don’t. Bryce stop. There are kids
watching. Stop, please, he is not worth it.”
He looked up. “He called you a ‘bitch’ Alexis.”
“I know, my love. But look.” I pointed to four young
children who looked terrified along with their parents, who were trying to get
them as far away from the fight as possible. Three men came running down to
where we were standing, ready to break up the fight.
“What’s going on here?” asked a man wearing a manager’s
badge. Bryce had let go of the Mystery-fuckers shirt and now had blood dripping
from his forehead.
“This bitch spun me off the track. Disqualify her.” Mr
Pig-Shit-Mystery-Fucker was still chucking a tantrum. The guy was a complete
nut case. Bryce moved his arm ever so slightly at the mention of the word
‘bitch’ again, and tried to shrug from my grip.
I held his arm tighter and whispered in his ear. “He’s not
worth it, my love, trust me.”
The manager looked to the steward and raised his eyebrows. “The
move was perfectly fine, boss.”
“Fucking pansies, the lot of you.” The guy wrenched off his
helmet, threw it at his kart then stormed off, cursing as he went. Parents held
there kids close to them and gave him as much room as they possibly could. I
couldn’t believe it, I had seen some pretty aggravated dummy-spits in my life,
but this one topped them all. It was a friggin’ harmless go-kart race, for
fuck’s sake.
“Are you all right, mate? Your head is bleeding.” The manager
pointed to Bryce’s forehead.
Bryce ignored them and turned to me. “I’m sorry, Hunny, are
you okay?” He looked regretful and hurt in my defence. I reached into my pocket
and pulled out a tissue. Being a Mum, I made it a habit to have at least one
tissue on me at all times. I placed it over the laceration.
“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you, that’s pretty deep.”
I blotted the tissue into his head and stared into his sorrow-filled blue eyes.
“Really, I’m fine. I’m a big girl. Anyway, I kicked that knob head’s arse, so
it’s all good.” He breathed in and raised his chest, looking above me to the
direction the crazy guy had disappeared.
He turned back to the men and complex manager. “Yeah, I’m
fine.”
“Would you like to file a report, or call the police?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” He put his arms around me
protectively. The manager took a step closer and slapped Bryce’s back in an
apologetic, manly kind of gesture.
“We are so sorry for this, mate. We’ll refund your money.” We
made our way back up to the office where the parents and children were
standing, still a little worried. Bryce walked up to a couple of the kids and
bent down.
“Are you okay there? I’m sorry you got a bit frightened.
Listen, how would you like to have a few more races just yourselves on the
track?”
“Cool.” One of the little boys was maybe Charli’s age. He
smiled.
The younger little boy, maybe aged four, held onto his dad’s
leg and turned away. Bryce looked remorsefully at their parents.
“I’m so sorry your children had to see that.” He got back up
and spoke to the manager. “Look, I don’t want my money back. Instead, I’ll hire
out the venue for the rest of the day, and all children and their parents are
on me.” He handed over his credit card, and I watched him take care of what he
thought was his fault. With all the money in the world he could act arrogant
and stuck up so to speak. He didn’t, he was kind, down to earth, and always
wanting to fix things.
The mother of the two young boys walked over to me. “He
really does not need to do that, I saw the whole thing and this was not his
fault.”
I smiled softly at her. “I know, but he wants to do it, so
take your kids back out there and go and have some fun, okay?”
She looked down at them and they smiled brightly at her. “Okay,
thank you.”
***
We walked out of the complex and headed to the car.
“Show me your head.”
“It’s fine, Alexis, it’s just a scratch.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll assume Nurse Summers is not needed
then.” I picked up my pace as I approached the car. He caught up and hugged me
tightly.