Page 82 of The Finish Line
“Personally, I’m just glad you guys finally got over all that weird, angry foreplay you’ve been doing all season.I mean, all Henri talked about last season was yo—”
I smacked him, hard, right on the back of his head.
“Ow!What was that for?”
Lily’s eyebrows shot up, delight dancing in her eyes.“Oh, did he now?”
I made a strangled noise, heat flooding my face.“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Éliott nodded vigorously, completely ignoring my desperate plea.“Wouldn’t shut up about you, honestly.‘Lily did this in qualifying, Lily’s racing strategy is brilliant, Lily passed me here.’It was exhausting.”
I could feel my face burning now.“That’s not… That’s taken completely out of context.”
Lily grinned, clearly enjoying my suffering.“Well, that’s tremendously flattering, Henri.”
Max elbowed me with enough force to make me stumble.“You know, mate, you really did her description an injustice.”
“She’s literally on TV every weekend.Now, where’s our chariot of certain death?”
Éliott led us through rows of magnificently ridiculous Beetles in every conceivable state of decay.
And then I saw ours.
An orange Beetle with paint so faded it was nearly pink in places.A racing stripe that didn’t really look like a stripe.The rear spoiler wobbled visibly in the breeze.And there was a crack running through the passenger-side windshield.
But what really made it special was the bumper sticker plastered across the back window: “Passenger Princess” in glittery pink letters.
Of course that’s our car.
“This is perfect,” Lily declared, walking around it like she was examining art.“This is absolutely perfect.”
I stood motionless, staring at the orange monstrosity with carefully controlled horror.“Lily, this thing is held together with duct tape and a prayer.”
“That’s the best kind of racecar!”She popped the hood—which took three tries—and peered at the engine.“Look at this beautiful disaster.When’s the last time you drove something that actually required skill?”
I snickered.“You mean, excluding our F1 cars?”
“Right then,” Lily announced, rubbing her hands together with determination.“I’m absolutely testing this first.”
I didn’t argue.Partly because she was clearly excited.But mostly because the thought of getting behind the wheel and being responsible for controlling something with zero modern safety features in deteriorating conditions made my body weak with anxiety.
To use Lily’s words, the car was alive.I watched from the passenger seat as she took the first corner and immediately discovered that this vehicle’s grip was casual at best.The rear end stepped out cheerfully, and she caught it with skill and instinct.Her laugh of pure delight filled the cabin, infectious and genuine.
“Lily!”I heard myself say, my voice between panic and amusement as I braced against the door.“Mon dieu, slow down!This thing is older than my grandfather!”
She tackled the next corner with more confidence, letting the car slide and dance.No electronic aids, no computer control, no safety net.Just her and the car and complete disregard for mortality.
Despite my protests and my white-knuckle grip on the dashboard, I found myself laughing too.Really laughing, with my head thrown back.The kind of laughing I’d almost forgotten how to do.By the time Lily brought us back, we were both grinning like idiots.The car shuddered to a stop with what sounded like mechanical relief.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in a car since… Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever had that much fun,” she announced, pulling off the helmet.
I removed my own helmet with noticeably shaking hands, and for a moment I tried to convince myself it was just adrenaline.
But I knew better.
My breathing had gone shallow, ribs tight with an anxiety I recognized too well.The realization that I’d be expected to drive next, and in the rain, no less, made panic pulse more insistently.
Lily’s hand settled gently over mine where I was gripping the dashboard.Her fingers were warm, anchoring me to something real instead of the spiraling thoughts.
