Chapter 83 83. Intense
Tabitha’s POV
“GO RHETT! YOU BETTER QUALIFY OR ELSE I’M GONNA BURN YOUR CD COLLECTION!” Evelyn screams at the top of her lungs, almost destroying the metal railing with her grip.
“Wow,” Jace says, half laughing, “I’m sure he feels the love. Nothing like a death threat to motivate your brother.”
Evelyn shoots him a glare. “It’s called tough support.”
“Yeah? I’d hate to see your version of gentle support.” Jace props his elbows on the railing, smirking at her. “You’d probably knit him a scarf that says try harder.”
“I actually would,” she fires back. “He needs one for when he loses.”
“Good to know you’re already planning for that outcome,” Jace replies with mock sympathy.
The announcer’s voice blares through the speakers before Evelyn can retort.
“Racers, to your marks! First round of qualifying is about to begin! Get ready!”
“It’s starting!” Evelyn exclaims in excitement.
I hold my breath, eyes fix on the neat lines of racers below us. Why do I feel nervous?
“Racers, start your engines!”
The crowd buzzes with excitement as the engines roar to life. I feel it pulse through my ribs as the roar of machines fills the air. Tires spin on asphalt, engines revving like wild beasts restrained by metal. Sparks fly from the front forks as the first row of motorcycles shift forward slightly, waiting for the signal. The sun reflected off polished visors. I don’t need to see their faces to know the hungry anticipation beneath their helmets.
A giant red light blink above the starting line. The riders leaned forward, hands gripping the throttle and brake, every muscle in their bodies tightening in anticipation.
“GO!”
Then the lights go out.
The first burst of motion explodes down the track. Reed shoots forward like a missile, his red and black suit a blur. Luca is close behind, tilting sharply into the first corner as his tires scrape and hiss against the asphalt.
Damn are they fast!
Arthur, in deep blue, presses past the pack, while Rhett in purple tracks every lean and shift, moving like he’d been born on the track. Off to the side, a rider in a striking orange suit, labeled on the monitor as “King,” accelerates with surprising control.
I’m no expert in this sport but even my simple human eyes can tell that every participant is a skilled racer!
“Look at that launch!” the announcer yells. “Reed Aldair is off like a rocket! Luca Aldair right on his tail! Beckett and Sharpe are fighting for position. King in the orange suit making a bold move on the inside! Incredible handling already! This is pure adrenaline!”
I clutch the railing, my teeth press into my bottom lip. Melanie, Elsie, and Evelyn were all on their feet, cheering.
“Go, Rhett! Push him!” Evelyn screamed.
“Watch out! Reed’s taking the inside!” Jace says, half-laughing, as he leans forward.
I turn to the giant monitor in the VIP section. The leaderboard flickers and updated every second.
Aldair (red)
Aldair (green)
Beckett (blue)
Sharpe (purple)
King (orange)
Montgomery (yellow)
Vance (cyan)
Torrence (magenta)
Carver (lime)
Blake (silver)
Harrington (gold)
Fletcher (brown)
Sinclair (violet-gray)
Dalton (black)
Winslow (navy)
Carstairs (teal)
Ellery (maroon)
Grayson (olive)
Hawthorne (peach)
Bradshaw (cream)
The top five are exactly as I suspect: Reed first, Luca second, Arthur third, Rhett fourth, and the orange-suited King in fifth. Oh, I had no idea who King is. Probably some competitor from the mainland. But he’s good… and very fast too. He’s going toe-to-toe with Arthur and Rhett, trying to clinch the third position.
“Go Rhett! Take the corner! Show them how it’s done!” Evelyn hollers beside me, jumping up and down.
Melanie laughs, her sunglasses slipping down her nose. “You’re going to make me deaf before the race ends.”
The riders tilt into the first hairpin and my lips part in awe as I watch Reed lean low, almost touching the track with his knee to keep his rhythm in the uneven curve. Luca follows, his body bending impossibly. Arthur surges ahead and sets a new fastest lap, pushing Reed to third. The monitor flickers with their times updating.
Beckett (blue)
Aldair (red)
Aldair (green)
King (orange)
Sharpe (purple)
Montgomery (yellow)
Vance (cyan)
Blake (silver)
Harrington (gold)
Fletcher (brown)
Sinclair (violet-gray)
Torrence (magenta)
Bradshaw (cream)
Carver (lime)
Dalton (black)
Winslow (navy)
Carstairs (teal)
Ellery (maroon)
Grayson (olive)
Hawthorne (peach)
“Becket’s taking the lead!” the announcer roars. “Reed and Luca Aldair are dropping back! What a move! That’s what a skilled defending champion looks like!”
I can barely breathe. I can feel the tension in my chest tighten as Reed pushes back, forcing his bike to cling to the curve, regaining first place just as the lap ends. I anxiously glance at the monitor once again to check the current leaderboard:
Aldair (red)
Beckett (blue)
King (orange)
Aldair (green)
Sharpe (purple)
Montgomery (yellow)
Bradshaw (cream)
Vance (cyan)
Blake (silver)
Harrington (gold)
Fletcher (brown)
Sinclair (violet-gray)
Torrence (magenta)
Carver (lime)
Dalton (black)
Winslow (navy)
Carstairs (teal)
Grayson (olive)
Hawthorne (peach)
Ellery (maroon)
“Did you see that?” Jace said, grinning. “That’s a textbook retake. Incredible control.”
I exhale, my hands tightening around the railing. The other girls gasp as each rider leans and tilts into the curves, fighting for every centimeter. Evelyn’s voice rose and fell with the action.
“OH MY GOD! RHETT!” Evelyn screams, fists clenching the railing as Rhett leans hard into the corner, barely avoiding Carver’s aggressive inside pass. Elsie jumps, clapping, “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about! Keep him off your line, brotha!”
I bite my lip, pressing my hands to the railing as I feel my stomach twisting. This is really intense. My eyes flick between the screen and the track, anxiously praying that none of our brothers fall short of the top twenty. Evren quietly watches beside me while Jace watches in rapt enthusiasm, cheering with Evelyn who is about to curse at the rider who is trying to push Rhett off the grid. Melanie squeals as Arthur overtakes King.
“Arthur, don’t let them slip past! Push him, push him!” Melanie leans forward, voice rising,
Jace grins and glances over at me while pointing to Reed and Luca, observing their maneuvers.
“Look at that throttle control. Reed’s maintaining torque perfectly through the apex, Luca’s line is almost flawless. Watch how they recover from the bumps.”
I don’t really understand the nitty gritty of the sport but Jace looks pretty pleased with his brothers’ performance, so I figure that’s a good sign.
“Sharpe is skimming the guardrail!” The announcer’s voice cuts through the roar. “Oh! Carver lunges inside, forcing a correction! Incredible reflex from the rookie! Torrence low-sides in the next turn, barely regaining balance!”
My chest tightens as Bradshaw wobbles on the exit, dust kicking into the air. Shit!
“Bradshaw out of contention! What a critical loss of momentum! The top twenty reshuffles as competitors capitalize on the chaos!” The announcer bellows. “Danvers is on the line to secure top twenty!
Rhett tilts sharply, tires scraping while skimming the barrier.
“Ah, damn it! Get your hands off him, idiot! Stay back!” Evelyn’s face is so red. She leans so far it looks like she might jump, but Melanie chuckles and grabs her shoulder to steady her.
“Calm down, Eve.”
Fletcher fights to hold the next curve, while Winslow ducks inside to overtake. I gasp when Ellery grazes the curb, sparks flying from the insane friction.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim.
Very aggressive! This sport is not for the weak heart, I’ll tell you that. Now I know why Reed has a thing for daredevil activities. He is practically desensitized with all the near-death experience he has while training for this kind of sport.
Hawthorne threads between them two other riders in a blur of peach, sliding past Grayson’s olive motorcycle. Carstairs swerves to the right, narrowly avoiding Dalton black.
I can barely breathe. The bikes twist and tilt, some wobbly, some sliding wide. Rhett barely keeps upright as he dodges Carver again. I can already picture the frown on his face while avoiding the accident-baiter rider. I grip the railing, feeling my muscle stiffen from the anxiety of watching them go all out.
“King is relentless, closing on Sharpe! Beckett leads but barely holding against Reed! L. Aldair (green) pushes from behind! Each corner is a battle of milliseconds!” the announcer exclaims which gets the crowd going crazy.
“That’s my brother! Keep him steady, Rhett!” Evelyn yells again, voice cracking, “DON’T LET HIM TOUCH YOU!”
Melanie laughs while clapping. Jace observes Reed and Luca, analyzing each technical move.
I keep my eyes glued to the monitor to check the leaderboard updates:
Aldair (red)
Beckett (blue)
King (orange)
Aldair (green)
Sharpe (purple)
Vance (cyan)
Blake (silver)
Harrington (gold)
Sinclair (violet-gray)
Torrence (magenta)
Carver (lime)
Dalton (black)
Winslow (navy)
Carstairs (teal)
Ellery (maroon)
Grayson (olive)
Hawthorne (peach)
Danvers (yellow-black)
I gasp as Torrence magenta spins slightly, dust rising, losing position. Carver lime’s aggressive move nearly takes Rhett purple out. The announcer yells, “Purple recovers! Incredible skill under pressure! Who will seize the lead in this storm of competitors?”
I feel the tension coil in my chest, every shift of the bikes threatening disaster. Each corner could mean disaster, each pass could end a race. My eyes flick to Evelyn and Elsie, both screaming with raw energy, and Melanie, cheering steadily for Arthur. Jace’s commentary cuts through, technical but intense. Evren remains impassive.
I rest my chin against the railing as the racers surge toward the next stretch. Rhett leans sharply around the curve, tires screeching. Behind him, Carver lunges for the inside again, forcing Rhett to straighten just in time.
“YOU LITTLE—GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Evelyn screams and bounces on her heels, hands clenching the railing like she wants to jump down again. This time, it’s Elsie who stops her.
“Yes! That’s it, Rhett, keep him off your line!” Elsie pumps her fist in the air while Evelyn jumps in exhilaration.
“Purple’s edge is razor-thin! Carver testing limits, but Sharpe maintains control! Watch how he threads between Vance and Blake! Incredible reaction time!” the announcer’s voice thunders.
I flinch when Torrence wobbles mid-corner, low-siding slightly. Embers scatter across the track as he bumps against the guard rails. His team quickly attend to him as he tries to pick up his motorcycle.
“Torrence down! Recovery looks possible, but that will cost precious seconds! And points will be deducted from his total score.”
“Man, some of these guys have no clue what they’re doing. Look at that move, almost wiped themselves out for nothing,” Jace notes.
I’m not sure if I agree. After all, it’s not like I can do what they are doing out there. This sport requires some crazy skills and even crazier guts.
Beckett leads into the straightaway, Arthur’s posture aggressive as he accelerates. King closes, nose to the back of Beckett’s bike.
“Beckett holding first! King makes a bold move on the outside! Purple Sharpe pushing, desperate to maintain position! R. Aldair (red) and green still jostling for supremacy!” the announcer declares.
On a tight corner, Blake misjudges the turn, scraping the barrier and wobbling violently. Harrington ducks inside, seizing the opportunity. Evelyn curses under her breath. Melanie claps for Arthur, who rockets past King on the next straight. The next lap rages on with Reed back on the leading spot.
My stomach twists as I watch the time dribble close to a minute. Torrence loses grip completely, low-siding hard into the dirt. Bradshaw hits the curb awkwardly, throwing off his momentum.
“Torrence out! Owsinski and Wright are now vying for the last two spots for the top twenty! Sharpe and Beckett are clear, King tailing close!” The announcer’s voice echoes.
The final straight stretches ahead. Arthur dethrones Reed in the leaderboard. I hear Jace muttering a few curses beside me as his expression turns sour. But Melanie is ecstatic. She jumps in joy while cheering for her brother.
King is also clawing a mere nose inches from Arthur. But Reed and Luca battle inches apart, their engines screaming in tandem. Rhett is still holding strong but his name is pushed further down the leaderboard.
The announcer counts down in excitement, “Final stretch! First round almost complete! Riders give everything! Hold your breath!”
Reed aggressively tries to overtake Arthur who is leading by a hair, and the crowd roars in wild excitement as the blue bike cuts through the inside lane cleanly. Reed pushes harder, fighting back for position. The tension builds until the timer hits zero and Reed reclaims the top with a flawless final lap and dominates the leaderboards by setting another record for fastest lap.
“Fuck yeah!” Jace roars and smacks Evren on the shoulder.
Cheers erupt all around us. Evelyn grabs my arm and shakes it with excitement. Melanie throws her hands up. Evren’s face remains blank even as Jace practically shakes the life out of him.
“All our brothers made it!” Melanie shouts in delight. “They’ll be advancing to round two now!”
The final leaderboard for the first round updates on the monitor:
Aldair (red)
Beckett (blue)
King (orange)
Aldair (green)
Sharpe (purple)
Harrington (gold)
Blake (silver)
Carver (lime)
Dalton (black)
Winslow (navy)
Fletcher (brown)
Sinclair (violet-gray)
Ellery (maroon)
Vance (cyan)
Danvers (yellow-black)
Carstairs (teal)
Grayson (olive)
Hawthorne (peach)
Owsinski (pink)
Wright (indigo-red)
“There you have it, folks! Thirty-four riders are trimmed to the top twenty! What a hell of a round!” the announcer exclaims.
“And that was just round 1? Wow, this whole thing is crazy,” I comment while wiping the sweat off my forehead.
“It’s fun, right?” Evelyn giggles and sips on her lemonade.
The announcer confirms the thirty-minute break, and the crowd begins to scatter for refreshments and bathrooms.
“I’m heading to the restroom,” Melanie says, tugging Elsie’s wrist. “You two coming?”
“Yeah, I need to fix my hair,” Evelyn answers. Then she looks at me. “Tabi?”
“Sure,” I say. I give Jace my stuff and the food I bought before following the girls.
“Don’t eat all my food!” I warn him sternly.
But the heathen only smirks while taking a shameless bite off my blueberry pasty.
“You better come back fast, then! I don’t trust myself around food.”
Ugh, I forget how annoying they become when there’s food involved! I roll my eyes at him and hurriedly sprint towards Evelyn.
The restroom near the VIP area smells faintly of soap and perfume. Good, at least it’s decent and not one of those disgusting public restrooms. I finish inside one of the cubicles and step out to wash my hands. As the water runs, I notice someone at the far sink. When she lifts her head, her eyes meet mine in the mirror.
My lips part when I realize who it is.
Yennifer.