Page 17 of Throttle

“I’ve never known you to be so nervous that it affects your times,” Elle reminds me.

I shrug again. I don’t know why my thoughts are all over the place. “Well, there’s a lot riding on this season…” I trail off.

“There is, but this is nothing you haven’t faced before. You’ve done this circuit in the lower series, no reason to fret now. Plus, he needs a boot in his ass. The average speed in qualifying it 108mph. What’s his fucking problem?” Elle answers as I look at her.

“Anyway, Saint is working with Bud and Neil to see if we can free up a little in turns four through nine. So, guess I’ll wait to see tomorrow.”

“Good! By the way, in between practice and qualifying, you have a sponsorship commitment.” She pulls up the schedule on the iPad.

“Wonderful,” I reply with a hint of sarcasm. “Who are we hosting?”

“SiriusXM tomorrow and Metland’s on Sunday,” she tells me, and I nod. I have a slew of sponsors that get the privilege to come trackside to the races. SiriusXM was a big landing for us. They agreed to sponsor the majority of the races this season. Ten out of the seventeen we race.

“That’s fine. SiriusXM is fun to hang out with.” I stand up from the spot we were sitting in. “I’m gonna shower and head back to the garage to see if Saint came up with anything.

“I want to go out for dinner,” Elle yells as I walk towards the back bedroom to gather a change of clothes. I just wanted to speak with Saint quickly before he does any other changes.

“I won’t be long,” I state, closing the bathroom door.

***

Saturday

Practice two and Qualifying

“Good morning,” I call to the pit crew as I enter the garage area. They all mumble words back, and I chuckle to myself. Neil and Saint are standing at a makeshift table at the back of the garage area looking over something on the computer. “Good morning,” I repeat, this time drawing their attention.

“Morning, Haisley,” Neil replies as I look to Saint.

“Morning,” he offers.

“Whatcha ya got for me today?” I inquire as I look at the computer screen in front of them.

“We made a few adjustments to the tire pressures and the downforce, slight adjustments,” Saint explains as I nod my head.

“We still have time to make slight adjustments before qualifying, right?”

“Minor ones. There’s an inspection prior to qualifying,” Neil states.

“Well, let’s see what she’s got,” I say, turning to head to the front of the garage area. My car was on pit road already as practice was due to start in ten minutes. “Where’s Bud?”

Saint jogs to catch up to me. “He’s at the pit box. The crew is heading out there now. You okay?”

“I’m fine, why? Do I look like something’s wrong?”

“No, just making sure.”

I offer him a quick smile as we approach the pit box.

“Oh, sleeping beauty has graced us with her presence,” Bud chirps as I give him an even bigger smile.

“Sorry to keep you all waiting, but you know, beauty takes time,” I respond as Mac hands me my helmet. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready to actually drive the car at a decent speed?”

I give him two thumbs up. “You do realize the average qualifying speed last year was only 108?” I don’t wait for his answer, not that I feel as if I would get one. Instead, he huffs and turns to go to the top of the pit box.

Saint turns to me. “You realize that during the race it’s him and the spotter in your ear, right?”

---