Street Heat

Chapter Eight - One Last Race

The rest of the day seemed to fly by. The usual stares from classmates, the whispers, even Magnus's worried glances, none of it bothered me. Instead, I felt stronger, like I was in control of my life again. Like I had my self-worth back. At lunch, I sat with Magnus and a few of our mutual friends. He asked if I was okay, clearly still concerned about what happened with Roman. I stifled a laugh, Roman is the one he should be concerned about. 

"Never better," I replied, flashing him a grin. And I meant it. We spent the rest of the day hanging out like we always did, joking around, and passing notes in class, and by the end of it, I felt like a new person. Whatever hold Roman had over me was gone. The week that followed felt different too. With each passing day, I became more focused on what truly mattered, myself, my car, and the races. Roman tried reaching out a few times, lingering at my locker or sending texts that I deleted without even bothering to read. His snarky comments meant nothing to me now. On Tuesday, as Magnus and I hung out by the bleachers after school, we overheard someone talking about a new race happening on Saturday night. This one was different though—bigger, riskier. There were whispers about how the cops were already aware of the street racing scene in town and were starting to crack down harder. I could feel the buzz of excitement mixed with danger in the air. Later that evening, I found a poster tacked onto the back wall of the gas station, hidden beneath layers of graffiti. It was simple but bold:

"RISK IT ALL. SATURDAY NIGHT. THIS TIME, THEY'RE WATCHING."

Beneath the ominous message was a sketch of a winding road, leading up into the hills outside of town. It didn't give an exact location, but we knew what it meant: This race wasn't going to be like the others. The stakes were higher. Not just with the driving, but with the law.

"We have to be smart about this one," Magnus said when I showed him the poster. He had a point. Getting caught meant more than just losing a race. We could lose our cars or worse, end up with a reckless driving charge. But the thrill of the challenge made my heart race. This was what I lived for—the rush, the risk, the speed. The rest of the week was filled with late-night texts between racers, keeping everything hush-hush to avoid any unwanted attention from the cops. I fine-tuned my car when I could, but most of my time and our time was spent planning strategies and mapping out possible routes. We couldn't afford any mistakes.

By Friday, the energy around the race was electric. There was no turning back now. Everyone knew about it, but no one spoke of it openly. Only those in the loop knew where to meet. My heart pounded every time I thought about Saturday night. This wasn't just another race—it was a test. A test of skill, of control, of whether or not we were ready to take the risks we'd been flirting with for so long.

Race Day - Saturday, 11:00 pm.

Today was the day. The race was almost here. Today, I could prove myself for good. If I could win this race, I could face anything. Normally, I would be concerned about beating Roman, but today I was focused on winning for myself. The roar of my engine filled the silence of the night as I sped down the empty roads. My heart pounded in sync with the hum of the engine, the thrill of what was coming bubbling in my chest. Every thought of stress and fear faded away, today I would be in my element even more than I am at casual street races. It was just me and my car.  My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as I hit the freeway, the streetlights flashing past me in a blur. The thought of tonight's race brought a sly smile to my face. This was big.

As I neared the meet-up spot, I could see the glow of headlights clustered in the distance beneath the overpass. Cars lined up like predators ready to pounce, engines revving and echoing through the night. I felt that familiar surge of adrenaline, the excitement bubbling higher in my chest. Pulling up beside Magnus's car, I parked and stepped out, slamming the door behind me. The cool night air did nothing to calm the fire inside me. Magnus was leaning against his car, his cast visible under his jacket, watching me with a knowing smile. He was able to stand now, but had crutches set up beside him. He wouldn't be racing tonight, and it broke my heart. We always raced together, side by side. But he didn't seem to sad about it.