Page 88 of The Fast Track

I’m sorry for every snarky comment I’ve ever made about Pat. His silver spoon might be as big and conspicuous as Sasha Devin’s, but he’s cut from a different cloth where it counts.

“Five-second drive-through penalty for Sasha,” Roz announces, the excitement palpable in her voice.

Thank the heavens race control isn’t blind, for once. Two laps later, Sasha peels off for his pit stop, where he’ll be forced to serve his penalty before he’s allowed to rejoin the race.

It’s only me and Cameron left now for the lead. He’s on a different strategy and far ahead of me, but I’ve got the fresher tires. If I pass him, I will win this race. I won’t take home the Drivers’ Championship, but I’ll place top three for the season and prove to everyone I’ve got what it takes.

I take a deep breath to slow my pounding heart. “How am I doing on pace?”

“Lapping three-tenths faster. You’re on track to catch Cameron on the last lap.” Roz sounds as excited as I feel.

“Let’s get him.”

I’m faster than the other drivers, Cameron included, on this circuit. Even without Roz’s updates, I know I’m gaining.With his older tires and my experience, P1 is solidly within grasp.

I catch up in eight laps, at Turn 4. Cameron puts up a clean fight, but his tires are simply too worn out. Lizzie and I sail past, my cornering much tighter thanks to superior grip. The grandstands explode.

A wave of relief washes over me. It’s never done until it’s done, but as long as I don’t get a puncture or a tornado doesn’t come ripping across the circuit, the top step on the podium is as good as mine. I concentrate on pulling away and creating distance between Lizzie and Cameron’s car. Time to build in a safety buffer.

The radio crackles again. “Sasha just passed for P3, four-tenths faster.”

I curse. He may have the personality of a banana slug, but there’s no denying he’s skilled. “Any danger of catching us?”

“You’ll be all right, but he’s gonna get Cameron. He’s closing in now.”

I curse again. If Sasha can get within DRS range of Cameron, it’s game over. Sasha will place second and Cameron third in the race, and Sasha will wind up Drivers’ Champion. He’ll be the one to go down in the official record, and he’ll be the one eyed as the prime candidate for F2, given he’s already a hot commodity with his father’s financial backing.

My fingers curl around Lizzie’s steering wheel.

There’s something so unfair about it all. It’s wrong that someone as awful as Sasha, because he’s born to a rich family,can have all the advantages in life while Cameron has to crawl and scrape and be thankful for every little scrap he can get.

I loosen up on Lizzie’s accelerator.

“Is something the matter? Don’t tell me it’s your eye.” Roz’s voice rises in pitch with each question.

“Remember how I said we’re gonna get him on-track?”

“Oh god.”

I let Lizzie’s speed drift until we lose the gap to P2. I’m mere feet away from Cameron and Sasha, battling furiously with each other. Sasha lunges again and again, his recklessness threatening to take them both out while Cameron hangs desperately on, worn tires just clinging to the track, barely enough to keep ahead with Sasha’s DRS advantage.

“You need to pull away from that NOW,” Roz barks. “Sasha’s going to pass Cameron and be on your tail.”

“Not if he’s stuck in a DRS train.” I drop back more, bringing the gap between Lizzie and Cameron’s car to under one second.

The rear-wing flap on Cameron’s car opens, immediately giving him a boost that matches the one Sasha’s getting.

Come on, Cameron, I silently beg.Please get the message.

A second later, he does. He follows Lizzie’s slipstream, using the DRS boost to fend off Sasha while keeping a respectable distance from me.

And just like that, we’re driving together as a team.

“Justine, you genius.” Roz’s breathing is heavy over the radio.

“Don’t jinx it!” I shout back. We’re still four turns away from the checkered flag.

Three.