Page 5 of Riding the Curve

The race was close. Too close.

My future hung in the balance. Everything I’d been working toward weighed on the outcome of that race. It determined whether I’d be allowed to move up in classes. I was so close to driving the Porsche Prototypes that I could already imagine myself in the seat.

I needed the win.

My driving coach, Eddy, scratched through the radio in my helmet. “This is it, Em. You and Axel are tied for laps. If you want that win, you better tighten those turns and stay close on those straightaways.”

Since we were tied for laps, it all came down to our time and who crossed the finish line first. IMSA WeatherTech SportsCar races were all about endurance. Each one tested the driver’s skill and stamina, while also demonstrating the car’s durability and pushing the drivers to their limits.

The melodic rumble of my engine hummed through me, thrumming like the adrenaline through my veins. My racing career began at eight years old. Now, I was thirty-two, and even closer to my goal of racing the LMP2 prototype. I’d poured everything I could into perfecting my driving skill. All I needed to do now was hold my focus.

I could do this.

This track had several curves, a Porsche’s dream. The fact that Axel had managed to tie with me on laps was a testament to his skill as a driver. Too bad his personality wasn’t as accomplished. There was no humble bone inside of Axel Graves, so winning this race against him would be the highlight of my year.

With each curve of the track my tires gripped the asphalt. I maneuvered my car, fighting to make it difficult for others to pass around me. Holding my breath through the bends, I dominated ahead of my opponent each time. Axel tried hard to inch ahead but continued to fall short.

Unlike his Corvette, my Porsche could handle the curves at a higher speed. He had to slow down considerably to not overshoot or spin out. The straightaways, however, were the Corvette’s element.

It became a game of chase.

First I pulled ahead, then Axel.

We both fought to come out as champion.

I’d heard that Axel was vying for the same opportunity as me. Moving up classes. All eyes were on us, which only intensified the pressure.

By the last curve, I realized it was my final chance to make a move. There was only one last curve, and then a straightaway all the way to the finish line. If I didn’t get enough ahead of him in this last curve, there was no way that I’d be able to keep up with him.

“Em, don’t you dare,” Ed warned. “I can sense what you're thinking. It’s too risky.”

I didn’t respond because I’d already made up my mind.

We entered the final curve. I felt the sweat dripping down the back of my suit as I tightened my grip on the wheel. Axel moved to the outside. He thought he’d be able to slip in front of me at the last second.

Gritting my teeth, I leaned the Porsche closer, slowly inching him toward the outside line. We were so close. One more inch and our cars would be touching. The nose of Axel’s car streamed forward, and panic flooded through me. He was going to come out of this curve ahead if I didn’t do something to stop him.

Unfortunately, the idea I had might not have the most favorable outcome to some. Bright red caught my sights again as Axel pulled an inch further.

This needed to end now.

Turning the wheel just a smidge more to the right, my Porsche collided with his. Rubbing against him just enough to send him into the rumble strip.

I watched with glee in the review mirror as Axel’s red and white striped Corvette crossed over the line, swerving out into the grass and bumping against the blue side wall. Elation rippled through me as my wheels spun over the finish line seconds later and the cheers of my crew thundered through my helmet.

Pulling into the pits, I quickly jumped out of the car straight into the cheering arms of my teammates and crew. We all knew I was going to get docked for the stunt I just pulled, but that couldn’t douse the euphoria that spread through Rickford Racing’s team.

Except for the enraged driver fuming behind me.

“You fucking asshole!” Axel fingers clutched the back of my collar, swinging me around to face him. Both teams rushed to huddle around us, but I shook my head toward mine. I needed to handle this myself. My decision ignited this fury. It was up to me to put it out.

“Couldn’t handle your driving being shit, so you decided to nudge me off the track to grab the win?” A smug smile tugged at his lips as my hands clenched into fists beside me. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned in so only I could hear. “You’re pathetic. An embarrassment to this sport. A joke to your team. You must be a real highlight at family dinners, huh? I bet your mother is so ashamed of you.”

Blood seared through my veins, all my composure flying out the window. My fist flew, colliding with Axel’s smug face. The satisfying crack filled the pits.

“You broke my fucking nose!” he hissed.

Then all hell broke loose in the pits around us.