Apex [h.s]

chapter one

Frankie Doyle

November

My heart is beating so hard in my chest that I think it may actually burst through my ribs. Every breath I take feels like it enters my body in slow motion.

This is it...

This is everything that I've been waiting for.

I can feel the anticipation fizzing all the way down into my fingertips as I watch the first red starting light glow, then the second, then the third.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, listening to the roar of my car as it waits patiently for my command.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the lights shifted to green. Without a moment's hesitation, I slammed my foot onto the accelerator, propelling the screaming car forwards, and me into the back of my seat.

"Frankie..." A voice calls through my radio.

"Frankie!" They repeat again.

With one final call of my name, I'm brought back to reality, leaving behind what I so desperately want.

With my phone resting in my hand, I quickly respond, "yeah, sorry. I'm here."

"Did you hear anything I said?" My brother Benji laughs.

"Ummmmmm," I say with guilt.

"I said can you bring some painkillers and a couple of extra water bottles for mum? We're all out at home and none of the shops will be open yet."

"Oh yeah, sure. Is she okay?" I ask.

"I think so, she's just saying she's got a bit of a stitch that won't go away," he replies.

"That's the second time this month, she should really go-"

"To the doctor. I know, trust me, dad and I have tried. She keeps saying it's no big deal, nothing some painkillers won't fix," he interrupts.

"Okay, yeah, I'll bring them. I need to get ready now, so see you at the track," I say, stifling a yawn.

"Did you sleep okay?" Benji asks.

"It was okay, first round jitters. You know what it's like. I'm fine, trust me," I convince him.

"Okay, as long as you're all good. See you at the track," he checks.

"I'm fine, I promise, see you there," I reply, before ending the call.

When most people think of home, they think of a house, a place they live. Somewhere that is comfortable, calm and quiet. Not to sound cliché, but I guess that means that I'm not most people then.

To me, home is the smell of burning rubber and petrol. It's the low grumbling of engines awaiting their turn to show their speed and the roar they let off once they get on the track. Home is the cheering of the crowd as their favourite drivers pass the finish line and the spray of champagne after a victory.

My head is a noisy place. The volume can be agonising. A part of my job is to analyse, but I often let this run into my personal life as well. The only remedy I have found is the sound of the race track. The constant hum of engines allows me to clear my mind and focus. It's the one true place where I feel calm.

I run my hands through my long, wavey, dirty blonde hair as I sit on the edge of my bed. The warm November 6am sun is shining through the slits of my blinds warming up my bedroom. I stand, pulling my blinds open fully, squinting at the sudden burst of light then slowly may my way to my wardrobe to retrieve my race uniform.