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A few guys come up and congratulate me, but their words are fake. They let me win because I’m part of the Elite. I’m a god to them and you don’t show up a god. Pissed off, I kick my bike and watch as it falls over and slams onto the ground.
“Damn, what’s wrong with you?” Will asks me.
His eyes are blood-shot red, and he’s got one of the cheerleading captains hanging off his arm. She’s just as high as he is.
“I’m tired of these shitty races. I need something with more—competition,” I announce, glaring at the guys who are now slinking away from me.
Will nods. “You should check out the races on the north side. Money isn’t as much, but the racers are wild, and they never get broken up by cops. Only thing, it’s a pretty rough part of town.”
I think this over for a second. Maybe this may be the next step I need to take.
“I’m in,” I say, slapping him on the back.
