Page 209 of Bend

At some point, I catch another rider ahead.

That is when my restraint nearly goes to shit.

I see him through the next section and immediately start calculating where I’m stronger, whether I can close the gap and how much time I might make up before the next timing point.

Andre’s voice cuts into my helmet like he can read my mind.

“Don’t.”

I blink. “Don’t what?”

“Whatever you’re currently considering.”

“You are very annoying.”

“I’ve known you long enough now.”

I exhale through my nose and hold my pace rather than throwing away a clean race trying to prove something that doesn’t need proving.

Annoyingly, he’s right.

Again.

When I finally cross the finish line, I don’t even know where I placed.

All I know is that I finished.

The second I back off the throttle, adrenaline crashes through me hard enough to make my entire body shake.

My arms ache, my legs feel like I’ve spent hours clamping them around a fucking earthquake, and the first proper breath I take once I slow down feels almost too big for my lungs.

I bring the bike into the paddock and barely get both feet down before mechanics have hands on it.

I pull my helmet off, suck in a breath and immediately look toward the timing screens.

Andre is walking toward me.

There’s something on his face.

I narrow my eyes.

“What?”

He shakes his head once, almost like he can’t quite believe whatever he’s looking at.

“Andre.”

“You came fourth.”

For a second, I genuinely don’t understand the sentence.

“Fourth what?”

His eyebrows lift. “What do you think?”

I stare at him.

Then I look toward the board.