Page 12 of Throttle

I take a deep breath as I pass the start line. Come on, girl, you got this. Prove his fucking ass wrong. “I’m going to open it up,” I snap into the mic as I open up the throttle and shift up through the gears. I enter turn one at 150mph. I release some of the throttle in the turn before returning my foot to the gas coming out of turn two. I challenge myself on the back straightaway and hit close to 220. As I am banking down into turn three, I can see Chad approaching quickly and closely.

I attempt to focus on the turn and the feel of my car, but I swear he takes the turn inches from me, causing me to get loose out of turn four. The car slides up the banking, and I am just able to hold it off from crashing into the wall. Once the car is stopped, I take a few deep breaths and flip the car to neutral.

“Jesus Christ,” I mumble as I hear Saint’s voice over the radio.

“Haisley, what the fuck happened?”

“The asshole came into the turn mere inches from me, and the side draft caused the car to get loose out of turn four and slide up the banking,” I explain as I watch Chad’s car fly by again. “Who the hell does that?”

“Will the car re-fire?” Saint asks as I flip the switch and rev the engine.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m heading back to pit road. Can you make sure captain dickhead doesn’t interfere?”

“Roger that,” Saint replies as I hear Bud laughing. I take the car out of neutral and apply the gas, shifting quickly into third gear to get to pit road. I slow down and engage the pit road speed button, which I love. I can’t be caught speeding on or off pit stops.

I pull the car into the spot where my crew is waiting. I kill the engine again and climb out of the car. I throw my helmet onto the seat and turn to look for Bud. Saint is next to me as Neil and Mac look over the car for any damages.

“Besides some grinding of the tires, the car is in perfect shape,” Mac states to Saint.

“Did you think it wouldn’t be?” I inquire as Bud and Drake approach us laughing.

“Did little miss have a little scare?” Bud snarks as I take a deep breath.

“Are you kidding me? You think something like that would scare me? I’m not scared. I’m pissed off. At you. At Chad and even the pompous asshole standing next to you. I don’t care what you think of women in racing, I’m setting out to prove your ass wrong,” I spit out as Elle rushes over to me. She’s holding her hands up in front of her and mouthing “calm down” over and over again.

I give her a slight nod and turn my attention back to Saint and Neil. “I’ll let you know in the morning what changes I want in the wheel. Shouldn’t be many, but I want to know the information you need me to access quickly. For now, I’m going home.” I give one last look toward Bud and Drake as Chad pulls his car into pit lane behind me. “Come on, Elle. I need a drink.”

***

Elle and I end up at a local Italian restaurant after leaving the track. I ordered a soda and some comfort pasta. I don’t drink. It’s a rule I have for myself. There are rare times that I will allow myself a few to celebrate, but I’ve always vowed to not use it as a vice.

“Are you sure I’m not in over my head?” I ask as I take a sip of my soda.

“Come on, Haisley. You’ve overcome so much more than this. This is everything you’ve worked for.”

A sigh escapes from my lips. “I know, but what if this isn’t the right thing? What if they are right and women shouldn’t be in INDY racing…” I trail off playing with my straw.

“And what if they are all wrong?” she questions me back. “What if you end up proving every hater wrong?”

“My crew chief doesn’t even like me! He sent Chad out on the track knowing full well what the hell he was going to do. He almost caused a crash!” I counter.

“But you didn’t crash! And they underestimated your ability to drive a car at two hundred miles per hour. Look at everything you’ve already overcome to get here. You’ve made sponsors believe in you.”

“Maybe I should have just aimed for stock car racing,” I blurt back.

“Bullshit. I didn’t work my ass off for you to just give up. That’s not the Haisley I know. I believe in you, and we’re going to prove them all wrong. I know you can hit some top fifteens, if not top tens. Hunter doesn’t think so, but instead of sulking about arrogant men, you need to be fierce and show them how great you can be.” Elle half slams her fist on the table, causing the patrons next to us to look over. “Sorry,” she mutters before turning back to me.

“I know you’re right. Deep down I do,” I respond.

“So does Grams. You don’t need anyone else in your life to believe in yourself. You just need to believe in yourself. Believe that all things are possible, and that you have the skillset to make it possible. No one knows you are your father’s daughter except Hunter and now your crew. But they didn’t know that before, and look at everything that you’ve accomplished.”

“I know.”

“Apparently, you don’t. You hold four records at the woman’s midget and late model levels. You’ve won over a hundred and fifty races in a brief period. Do I need to keep reminding you of more?” she inquires as our food is brought to the table.

“No. I get your point.” I smile. “Let’s eat and formulate our plan for world domination.”

Elle smiles, and it makes me laugh. It’s great having my cousin and best friend in this with me.

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