32

How Everything was ready

Speed. Adrenaline. Wind. Vibrations. Sound of an engine. Lean of the bike. It lines back up. More adrenaline. I speed up. More wind. Dry sound of asfalt under hot tiers. Vibrations. Hot metal shining in the setting sun. Another lean. Gloves are tight on my hands. Helmet is being constantly whipped by the wind. Boots are hard and my feet are hard to move. Suit is blocking the cold. I can feel the engine working under the elegant metal. Bike lines back up. I speed up. Engine roars lauder. Vibrations are stronger. I speed up even more.

"Chris."

Another lean.

"Chris."

I speed up even more, almost to the end.

"Christine Louise Swift!"

I grab the breaks because the voice coming from the helmet wakes me up from my dream-like state. As the motorbike slows down, I release a breath I had no idea I was holding until now. I straighten my back sitting up. "Yeah?" I manage to get out.

"Are you done?" asks Johnny with a clear mocking tone in his voice.

At that question I remember what I was supposed to be doing and that is driving a few laps to test the bike before the race tomorrow, not losing myself in the drive. I adjust the speed so it's safe to talk since I'm not used to talk while I drive. "Yeah. It's safe."

"Would you please come back to the box then?" I hear Johnny's voice again.

At that exact moment aI noticed I have just passed the boxes where Johnny was standing waving with one of his hands. I shook my head ad speed up. "Let me finish this lap."

"Chris won't be happy about it," says Johnny.

"He can shoot me off the bike if he has anything against it," I say and lay almost flat against the bike so I make the wind resistance smaller. I can hear Johnny laugh right before he ends the connection. I roll my eyes and start gaining speed once again. The engine I've been working on for weeks works perfectly. The scratches and bumps, that served as a reminder or the previous season's fall which luckily wasn't too bad, are now invisible to someone who wouldn't where they were thanks to Eric. The tires have a great grip but they'll probably need to be changed before the race or we'll have to change them sooner then should if we wanted to stay in the lead.

I see the finish line and speed up. I get there and release the gas, but don't grab the breaks. I let the engine run itself out since I want to cause as little damage as possible after I put so much pressure on it before. I straighten my back and spread my hands. The bike is heavy enough that the speed is giving it the stability I need to do so. "Swift!" I hear Chuck's usually boring and monotone voice yelling into the microphone.

I quickly grab the bike and give the breaks a little squiz. "I said I'm coming," I say and turn the bike towards the outway.

"You can't even drive perfectly! If you do that there is a high chance of you falling!" Chuck exclaims.

I stop the bike in front of the box and turn the engine off. Blonde man in blue and orange mtotor suit comes over to me and crosses his arms like he would be waiting for something. I slowly take the helmet off and shake my head as the brown hair falls all around my face. The blonde quickly snaches the blue helmet from my hands. "What do you think you are doing?!" he snaps at me.

"As I said: I was giving it a test drive," I say as calmly as I can, but I can feel the rage building in my stomach.

"I know what a test drive is!" Chris Rose yells. "That was not it!"

"Rose!" yells Chuck from his wheelchair which was parked in front of the giant screen. "Stop harassing her! Get on the bike and give me ten laps. Time framing fifteen minutes."