Page 69 of Kiss & Collide
“Box, box. Do the opposite of Elian.”
Shit. That meant they were in serious contention to take tenth place, and Emil thought they might be able to undercut Elian if they did their pit stop now. He kept his eyes fixed on Elian’s gearbox, bracing for the tiniest twitch to give away Elian’s intention. At the last possible second, Elian sped past the pit lane exit.
“Okay, boxing!” he shouted as he entered the pit lane, smashing the brakes when he hit the white line. He nosed into position and they had him up on the jacks in the space of a heartbeat. Then they dropped him and dumped it into gear.
Hell yes. Thathadto be just over two seconds stationary. He sped out of the pits.
“Push, push!” Emil barked as he banged his way through the gearbox. “It’s gonna be tight with traffic.”
He could do this … he could do this …
Chase glanced in his mirrors and spotted a car coming for him up the hill. Rolando Castenada swooped around his outside.
“Motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re not getting me that easy.”
He managed to keep in Rolando’s slipstream for half a lap, but he couldn’t get around him. Turn Eleven was approaching, a wild hairpin that led to the longest straight on the track. That was his opening. He released the brakes and dove up the inside, forcing Rolando wide as they both fought to get the advantage down the straight.
But Chase’s new tires, now fully warmed up, won out, and halfway down the straight Rolando dropped back.
There was no time to enjoy it, though.
“Elian’s in the pit,” Emil said. “Push to the pit lane exit.”
Pushing through the tight Turn Twenty was going to be tough, and if this car was the same he’d been driving under Oscar, he wouldn’t stand a chance. But now he could feel the car grip the track as he powered through the turn.
As he barreled down the straight, he caught a glimpse of aqua blue off to his left—Elian, accelerating through the pit lane. He had to get to the next turn ahead of him, otherwise Elias would be perfectly set up to overtake him.
“Push, push, push!” Emil shouted.
“I’m pushing!” he shouted back, spinning the throttle. He channeled all his simmering anger from that fight with Violet last night straight into his driving, practically screaming his frustration out loud as the roar of the engine built. This was it—he could feel it. When he gave it the last bit of acceleration, the car responded. Aqua blue receded in his mirrors. Elian, on cold tires, was unable to match his acceleration.
“That’s it!” Emil shouted. “Elian fell back. You are now P ten.”
P ten. Which meant points. Pinnacle hadn’t seen points in four seasons.
“Congratulations,” Emil said.
Chase smiled.
“Congratulate Rabia. It’s her car that got us here.”
Pinnacle had just had its best race finish in four years. Half an hour after the race had ended, people were still lingering in the Pinnacle garage, celebrating. Because Madison was there, there were media and photographers, too. Which was the point of her, Chase supposed. Media coverage. Just like Violet had said.
Violet.
Now that the race was over, there was no place for him to channel all this gnawing frustration, and he was feeling twitchy with it.
“You seen Violet?” he asked Tyler.
“Nope.”
Chase cast another glance around the garage, which was pointless because he knew she wasn’t here. Madison was chatting with Rabia and his parents, all of them casually trying to ignore the photographers capturing every second of the interaction. His parents had been surprisingly chill when he’d told them about the setup last night, and they’d been as welcoming and polite to her today as they were to everyone. Tyler had immediately started up with the jokes about Chase needing a rent-a-girlfriend, and he’d probably keep it up for the rest of their lives. Fucking brothers.
“Why don’t you just go find her?” Tyler asked.
“Mom and Dad are here. And Madison.”
“Look at them. They’re fine.”
