Page 91 of Send It
“Just do everything exactly as we said and I’ll meet you back at the trailer. I’m gonna watch from this deck since it’s the closest to the finish line. Don’t stop for any media.”
“What are you gonna say if someone asks why you went straight back to the trailer?” I ask.
He shrugs, “I guess I’ll just say I had to take a fat shit.”
I giggle, pushing his shoulder playfully, “Colson!”
“You asked.”
I shake my head, “You are not going to say that on live television.”
“You underestimate me, baby Bane.”
I smile, “You’re gross.”
He pushes a piece of hair that has fallen out of my braid behind my ear, “You got this. Just send it.”
I try to hide my grin but I just can’t. “I know the drill.”
An hour later I’m sitting at the gate pretending to be Colson Raines. Reiss reaches over with his gloved hand for a fist bump like he always does when they line up, and I take my knuckles touching them to his.
Just send it.
I replay Colson’s words in my head as the gate drops and the screaming sound of the bikes is deafening. They all come to life as everyone hammers down on the throttle.
The second I take off, my nerves disappear. There’s no place for them on the back of this bike. I just need to focus on holding the pace. The first four laps I’m stuck in fourth but during the fifth lap I start gaining on third. Landon got the holeshot and has been able to keep the lead but Reiss is right behind him as far as I can tell. I’m gaining on third and when I make it around the last set of jumps before the finish line, I see Ryan holding a dry erase board that saysfind the groove.
He’s right, I need to settle in, find the groove. Eye on the prize.
On the next tabletop jump, I pass third and I’m right on Reiss’ ass but he’s riding good. I don’t know if I’ll be able to catch him.
Each time I think I’m close or come up with another line on the track I think I can use to get around him, he pulls away. I’m not catching him this time.
The race ends and I pull off the track with a third place finish. It’s not first but it’s going to be enough to get us a good gate pick for tomorrow’s moto.
I do as Colson instructed and ride straight to the trailerthen rush inside to change. I strip out of the gear quickly too because it’s hot. I toss it into a bin under one of the tables in the trailer and toss on one of my Bane Racing shirts with a pair of lightweight shorts.
I walk out of the trailer and Colson is outside and his dad is squirting a water bottle into his mouth. “I thought you had Reiss. It seemed like you backed off.”
I sneak by and grab some water out of the cooler.
“Couldn’t catch him,” Colson says, pretending to be out of breath, glancing over at me.
We can’t talk right now, but we will dissect how everything played out later.
Reiss pulls up a few seconds later and pulls his helmet off, “Thanks for backing off.”
Colson shrugs, “I wasn’t going to catch you so I figured it was best if I didn’t risk us both wrecking.”
He nods, holding his hand out for Colson to bump. “Let’s do it again tomorrow. No way I’m letting Landon win this thing on one of our bikes.”
I shake my head. He bought it so technically it’s his bike now, but still. I get the aggravation.
I don’t want him to win either.
46
Colson
