Page 103 of Loving the Legend
The right side of my body hits the door as we take the next corner. We hurtle through the air, ratcheting up my pulse. Watching Archie execute one shift after another in a controlled manner slides my brain into a stupor. Controlled movements make no sense at this speed.
“This is wild!” I shout as adrenaline laces my blood.
His smile is wicked as he presses down on the acceleration. If I thought we were going fast before, it’s nothing compared to this. A force twice my weight presses against my chest.
“Faster!” I command, and Archie’s whole face lights up. His unfettered joy reminds me of a kid playing with their favorite toy, albeit a $500K one. Or maybe his toy is speed, and the car is only an instrument. His elation kinda reminds me of Sid’s joy at Christmastime.
“That was the first lap. We’ll pick it up for the next one,” he shouts.
By the time his words land, he’s already slamming on the accelerator.
“Holy fuck!” I yell as he swerves through a corner. The screeching tires sound like they’re being pushed to the limit. My eyes snap closed, then open, then closed again.
“Oh fuck, we’re gonna flip!” I bark as the left side of the car lifts off the ground.
“Whoa,” Archie yells. “We’re drifffffting!”
My eyes shoot open to find the world transformed into a dizzying blur. I stab a glance at Archie, and he grins cheek to cheek.
He decelerates and makes a series of maneuvers, righting us back on track.
“How about we give you a ride fit for a king and lose the traction control?”
“Uh, w-what?” I’m no expert, but I know traction control helps prevent skidding when driving around curves and sharp turns.
“It’s turned off! I got you, though, I promise,” he says, patting my arm.
The car swerves hard as we approach the first curve.
“We’re dead!” I scream as I cover my eyes with my free hand.
Archie laughs. “Don’t go into the light.”
All of a sudden, the car thumps like we hit a body.
“Whooooaaaaaaa,” he says, voice shaky. I glance over, and his smile vanishes.
“What the fuck was…”
My words die in my throat as the car skids out of control and the road becomes a streak of white light. Archie executes a fast series of micro-shifts using the pedals and the steering wheel. I clamp my eyes shut when none of his maneuvers seem to work. My heart kicks through my chest wall as screeching tires and blood rush through my ears. Every muscle in my body stiffens as I brace for impact. Loud warning sirens fire off in mybrain, flooding it with a chaotic cocktail of fear, courage, and a reluctant surrender to whatever happens next.
Memories with Sid from the last few months—his face lit with laughter—our falling—surfaces a certitude. No matter how this ends, I am undoubtedly the luckiest man on the planet for experiencing a love like ours.
A deathly silence wipes out the teeth-chattering screeching, and for a second, I wonder if my brain’s offering me peace in my final moments, but then I hear, “Open your eyes, young king.”
I creak one eye open, and my jaw drops.
“How the fuck…” I palm the sides of my helmet as I look out at the track. I gawk at Archie, who’s completely calm.
“It was a close one,” he says, pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead.
I stare at him in disbelief.
He grins. “I told you I got you.”
I shake my head, wipe my eyes, and clench, then unclench the hand that had a death grip on the handle. “Fuck, man. Thought we were cooked for a minute.”
He chuckles. “What’s your favorite dessert?”
