The Story of Max; Part 56 “Stuff I’ve been through.” I finished. “I was going to say ‘stuff’.” “Right.” Maria said with a sly smile. “I was.” I started laughing and then we all started laughing. When the laughter died down I looked out of the window. “What are you looking at?” Brandon asked. “The bleachers over there.” I said nodding my head in that direction. “It’s still not all the way filled up.” “Yeah, just wait until Sunday.” “I know right. It’s going to be insane.” I replied. “Totally dude!” “Okay, while you two fangirl over how big your egos will get, I’m going to get something to drink.” She said getting up from the couch and walking over to the mini-fridge. Brandon and I continued talking while she got a bottle of water and opened it while she walked back over to us. “Five minutes until final heat.” Coach called up to us. “Just a little longer.” I said. Trying to watch the last of my favorite Spongebob episode. “Alright, come on, let’s do this.” “Good luck you guys.” Brandon said giving us high-fives. “Thanks.” Maria and I said together. We walked down the stairs to the garage and we walked toward Coach. “What’s up?” He asked. “Any advice?” Maria asked. “Just have fun out there. Just one thing, where you finish, is where you start. No fastest lap nonsense, just a straight up race. A three lap shootout for first place.” He said. “Sounds good.” Maria said. “Okay.” I said. We got on our bikes and went out onto pit lane and onto the track. “One minute. Starting order for the final heat: Max Renault in pole, Christophe Cook, second, Conor Recoll, third, Adam Knudsen, fourth…” The intercom announced. “Ready?” I asked Maria over our team channel. “As I’ll ever be.” She said. “Twenty seconds.” The intercom announced. I heard a heartbeat over all of the noise. I turned down the other sounds around me to hear it better. It was going really fast, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint it, but it was kinda far back and to my right. “Hey.” I said in a soft tone. “You’re going to be fine, it’s just another race.” “Thanks Max.” She said and the fast heartbeat slowed back down. I turned the noise back up and focused my attention to the lights in front of me. “Seven, six, five.” Then one red light came up. “Good luck.” Coach said. Then another red light, and one more. After that one yellow light and a second, then green. We were off, the last 12 of us took off after one prize, pole position. Three laps, where you finish is where you start on Sunday. Once again, I comfortably made it through the first couple of corners. “Look for one to try and come up your inside Maria.” Coach said, it was the first time I heard him talk since he told us good luck. “Got it.” She said. “How do I look?” I asked. “You look good, about half a second to a second ahead.” When he said that I started to fell more relaxed. At the end of the first lap I retained my position and Maria moved up to fifth. “Come on guys! You’re doing great!” Brandon exclaimed through Coach’s microphone. “Thanks.” We said, I started laughing a little bit. After I passed the halfway point on the second lap I heard this in my ear, “You’re starting to slip a little bit Max. That combined with the fact that Conor’s getting faster. You’re slowly losing your lead.” Coach explained. “Alright.” I said. By the end of the second lap my lead diminished to a quarter of a second. “You’re fine Max. Don’t push, pushing makes for sloppy lines.” “I’ve got it.” By the end of the first sector of the third lap he was on my tail. The first corner of the second sector he tried to go around my outside but I blocked him out. Then, I made the mistake of actually believing that he was going to do the same thing. The next corner he shot up my inside and took the lead. “What an amazing pass by Recoll!” Mr. Laber commentated. I muted my headset, “Shit.” Then I turned it back on. “It’s alright, just stay close. Then the last sector overtake him.” “Okay.” I stayed close to him and kept the pressure on him. In the third sector there were only three corners and the final straightaway, I had to make my move. The first corner, I stayed close to him. The second, I tried to get my tire next to his rear fender. The third and final corner I didn’t think about passing him, just getting out cleaner that he did. I got my knee down on the curb and cleanly got out. He was still ahead but I was closing in on him fast as we came down the last straightaway. “Come on.” I muttered through gritted teeth. Conor and I crossed the finish line at what seemed like, to me, at the same time. “Did I get it?!” I asked with beady anticipation. There was a pause before Coach said. “By one tenth of a second. Congratuations Max. You’ve got pole, great riding.” “Yes!” I thrust my fist into the air. “That’s what I’m talking about! How do you like that mother nature?!” I yelled to the sky through my helmet. Later that night, I tried to sleep through the night expecting to wake up on race day ready to go. Yeah, that happened. “Alright, last lap. Just keep it going Max, you’re doing great.” Coach said. I was silent, making sure I took the perfect line through the corners. One turn after another I got closer and closer to the finish line. “One more sector.” “I’ve got it.” I said, there were three corners left and I counted them out. “One, two. Three.” Halfway through the last turn I felt my rear tire lose grip. “Shit.” I tried to correct it but just before I did it found grip again and threw me over the side of the bike. “Max!” Everyone yelled. I rolled into the sand trap and slammed into the wall.” I looked back towards the track to see a 400 pound bike coming toward my face. “No!!” I heard my sister scream at the top of her lungs. I braced myself for the impact. I was jolted awake and I found myself in a cold sweat and breathing hard. When I gained my bearings I fell from seven feet above my bed onto it and bounced off. Just before I hit the floor I used my powers to make myself hover a couple of inches above the floor. I got on all fours, exhaled hard, and relaxed trying to cope with what I just experienced, even though it wasn’t real. An hour later at one am, coming down the road to the racing complex there was a distinct exhaust rumble and growl. The driver pulled into the empty lot of the track and parked under a lamp. Out of the driver side door stepped out a black boot and the tail of a black trench coat. And out of the passenger side stepped out a black, high heeled shoe. “Jesse.” Natasha said. He replied with silence. “Babe.” “Huh?” He looked over the roof of the car at her. “What are we doing out here at midnight? Other than this street light I can barely see anything.” She complained. “Use your acute vision.” He shut the door. “You should be able to see just as well in the dark as you can in daylight.” He said while walking away from his car and her. “Ah, that’s better,” She said. “Oh,” she exclaimed and she caught up to him. “You still didn’t answer my question.” “What was it again?” “Why the hell we’re out here?” “How were your grades in history in high school?” He asked. “In history? I got A’s. But what—” “Okay, pop quiz then. What do army generals do before a battle?” “Scout the enemy?” “Close.” He spun around slowly looking at his— “Surroundings?” She asked. He nodded his head with a half-smile and continued walking towards the complex.
Posted on: Fri, 05 Jul 2013 05:32:47 +0000
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