The Fuel Within

Chapter 2

Day 15

I really shouldn't be riding, all mum, dad, and my doctor have said not to...
But man, does my home track look good today, and I do need to practice. Area qualifiers are in just two weeks! Plus, the morning dew has made it just the right consistency and I can already smell the petrol. Is that drool on my chin? Pinkie Pie's waiting for me!
The sun's only just rising along the horizon, I've got work in a few hours and until then I've got to do something to kill the time, fighting myself on whether to ride or not is filling it up just fine.
It's only a windowpane stopping me, I tell myself. One sheet of glass and ten minutes to get in my gear. My face tightens.
I look to my leg.
I huff.
My leg is a little better, not much, not enough, so I'm doing my best to hold out. But goodness am I itching to swing a booted leg over my bike seat, to hold the throttle under my fingers, to feel my bike lift off the dirt and land with a smooth fizz.
But no. No instead, I'm stuck staring at my track from my bedroom window. Gazing longingly at the rich soil leading off into the forest, the rocky trail down the side of the mountain, the garden beds, the creeks. I sigh and look away. I should probably get something to eat.

Another week passes, and its seven days until the race. My leg is doing well, but I know as soon as I exert it, it'll be back to day one. I'm worried. I manage to smile with my family, smile at customers, laugh with Billie, but I'm tense. The Area qualifier is so important. Only nine of us get through. Nine of forty-five. I know I'm good enough to get through, the regionals is where I'll really be tested, but with this set back? I'm not sure.
No doubt my competitors will have been practicing day in day out, I know Billie has been, and yet here I am, hobbling home from work, sitting on the couch and dreaming about riding my bike. Would it be weird to ask Lucas to ride, just so I could sit on the back? I groan.

"Hey Smiley Riley!", Billie calls, walking into the workshop as I'm finishing with a customer.
I can feel my face light up, "Hey Billie-bob.", I call back, waving to her as I keep my eyes on the items I'm tallying up.
She spots the guy I'm serving and 'ah's, leaning at the edge of the counter a metre or so away.
I smile to the guy I'm serving, "That's one-thirty-three, on card?"
The man finishes the sale, takes his bagged items, and departs with a wink.
I chuckle and wave him off, before turning to Bob-the-Billie, "What's up with you, girl?"
At my attention, Billie twirls into a resting position opposite me on the counter, landing with hooded eyes staring up at me, "Ah, ya' know,", she pauses to glance at her finger nails, "Gotta' keep an eye on my girls. How're the profits darlin'?"
I laugh, "They'd be better if I had a shorter skirt."
Billie cracks, "Yeah, not sure the khakis are doing it for me.".
I roll my eyes and lightly swat her away. My work uniform is gross, I know that.
Billie chuckles with me before making herself comfortable on her elbows, she glances to where the man exited, "He was cute enough... he winked at you."
I awkwardly chuckle, "... I think it was friendly."
Billie gives me the 'you're kidding, right?' look before rolling her eyes. We've had this conversation before. She clicks her tongue before looking over the counter, nodding at my knee, "... How's your peg?"
I groan, tapping the bench, but manage a little smile, "... I don't know... I'm too scared to test it out."
Billie clicks her tongue again and nods slowly, "... I'm sure it'll be good for the race."
I hum and follow her gaze.
I hope so.

I race tomorrow. I race tomorrow. I. Race. Tomorrow!
Oh goodness, I race tomorrow.
I've taken as many multivitamins, immune boosters, and 'strong and healthy bones' type tablets I can manage, I've stocked on carbs and protein to make me run strong, and chomped carrots like a horse for good eyesight. I'm saving the banana and eggs for my breakfast.
It's waiting for me. The petrol, the buzz, the speed, the win. I can feel it already, and it makes my nerves sizzle. I snuggle tighter into my sheets.
Tomorrow.
I glance to my knee, shake my head, look away.
Tomorrow.