Spencer : Adrenaline Rush

"Spencer, I know it's part of your job, but you are messing with my business, and my income! Do you know how many kids see what the Davies' buy for their cars, and want to buy it too? And they pay cash!"

I ignored my father, held my breath, and trotted over to a little room at the back of the spares shop, found the sink, and opened the cold water. Splashing water into my face immediately helped to calm me down. I got myself pretty worked up during the drive back to the shop. I was just not sure if it was because of Kyla, or Madison. Why does Ashley hang around with them anyway? It took another second to catch my breath, and finally I was able to face my dad.

"I know dad, and I'm sorry. It won't be long anymore. So I take it Kyla phoned you?" Please say no, please say no.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh and put his hands on my shoulders. "She did. She wanted me to fire you, but I pleaded with her that I'm short-staffed. Spencer, messing with these people are dangerous." Shit.

I couldn't help but laugh at my father's concern. "Dad, I'm old enough to – "

He loved interrupting me. "I'm aware, Spencer. I'm just looking out for you." He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and started walking back into the main section of his shop.

I followed him, but something shiny caught my eye, and I sidestepped straight over to a glass case displaying cylinders of NOS.

"Dad," I called over to him. He's going to freak! I pointed to the glass case when I finally had his attention. "I need this. Two of them. My car topped out at 140 this morning. I need to have it fitted by tomorrow tonight."

To say he was annoyed was an understatement. I watched as my father marched over to me, and I actually had to take a step back, just to brace myself for his verbal rift of me being irresponsible and naïve.

"Spence, I've seen you drive. Do you have a death wish? I'm not ready to scrape you off the road after you've blown yourself up."

That was an insult as much as it was the truth. But I was learning, okay? Besides, he didn't really have a say in this. "By tomorrow, dad." Spencer: 1 ; Dad: 0.

I swiftly turned around and hurried out to the back, leaving my father to drown in his overprotective concern.

I wondered if I was allowed to call an ambulance and ask them to be on standby a couple of blocks away. My practice run earlier had not gone down that well, mostly because I never listen to my dad, but then again, I don't follow orders and instructions that well. As a result, I'd used up all the NOS on trial runs to test when to open up. Boy was my dad happy to see me to have the empty cylinders returned and me demanding new ones since he couldn't refill them!

I felt bad that my father had to go through this. I mean, he's lived an honest life all his life, and worked so hard to be where he is today. It hasn't always been this easy. I remembered vaguely that before the divorce, he used to race a little. At least that's what I thought he did. But the divorce ruined him. I didn't remember much about my mother, I was seven when it happened, and I didn't even know what happened that I landed up in dad's custody. It was an unspoken rule that we never talked about any of it.

So I grew up living with my dad, and until I was about twelve years old, my life was fairly sheltered. I went to school, had tons of friends, went to grandma's after school, until dad joined us for dinner, and then we'd normally go home, hang out a bit, and go to bed. That was weekdays. On weekends I spent every waking moment with my friends. But then grandma passed away, and things changed.

I had to go to dad's shop after school, and eventually weekends too. It was okay in the beginning, I appreciated spending more time with dad, but I was soon at that age where high school pressured you into categories. I became a social outcast as dad never let me out. I hated him for a good couple of years. I didn't even know when things turned around for us. All I know for certain is that at this very moment, I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for dad. So I guess I owed him big time.

When nightfall came, I purposely drove downtown towards a particular street that was buzzing with souped up cars, men pumped with testosterone, and beautiful ladies throwing themselves at potential race winners. Side streets were blocked off with strategically parked cars, while several other cars had police trackers fitted and overly excited drivers feeding information about any police activities in the area, to organizers back at the starting points. It was an expertly organized illegal event, allowing street racers to drool over cars they couldn't afford, and women they could never have.

I approached the hordes of cars and people in my bright green Eclipse, and found an empty spot to park. Getting out, a small smile reached the corner of my mouth as I took in what was in front of me. Not only did the variety of cars, sound of turbochargers, constant tapping of acceleration pedals, and sound systems exploding with low bass pull me in; I was also entranced by barely clad females roaming around, everywhere. If not for the cars, I'd definitely be a spectator to enjoy the sight of the women. I wonder if I'd get laid tonight –

My thoughts were rudely interrupted by one of the organizers approaching me. He must've realized that I was new here. I wouldn't mention just how new… New to this community, new to this kind of setup, new to racing… I mean, these were not go-karts for kids where top speeds reached 16MPH. Neither supercarts where, if you really pushed it, you could make 120MPH. No, this was some serious horsepower and speed we were dealing with here. 120MPH was what you'd want going to third gear, ready to activate NOS. And hopefully not blow yourself up, or spin out of control, subsequently totaling your car. Or die. That was also an option.

"Nice ride. What you running under there, gorgeous?" The guy looked like he was trying to give Eminem a run for his money.

I instinctively reached for a lever to open the hood, but held off when he just started introducing himself.

"I'm Glen. Good to see some more female action joining in on the races." He reached out, and while I thought we would just shake hands, Glen kissed the top of my hand. Eeeeew…

I tried to hide the sudden nauseated feeling running through me, and smiled with a clenched jaw. "Spencer. Nice meeting you."

"So what brings you to this part of town – I've never seen your pretty face around here before," Glen smirked.

I held back. I was used to this sexist remarks all my life. People, especially men, did not believe that a 'pretty blonde like me' had been working under the hoods of cars and teaching boys to ride go-karts since I was twelve years old. I wouldn't be surprised if I taught you how to drive, idiot.

"I'm waiting for Davies," I finally breathed out confidently.

And lo and behold, the crowds started bustling around, clearing the street for five cars to maneuver through endless rows of cars and people. I took special note of a certain brunette cruising in a blue Honda Integra. My heart fluttered at the knowledge that the girl I was crushing on could drive a racecar. I smirked to myself. Probably way better than me. Last to come in was Kyla Davies, sporting a red Mazda RX-7. I could only imagine what modifications had been done to that car.

The Davies clan parked their cars several cars down from mine, and were immediately surrounded by crowds. I noticed how Kyla seemed to attract the attention of some organizers, and over-eager racers. And then there was Ashley, instantly attracting a handful of girls, barely clothed. God, she's so beautiful. As much as I felt jealousy rise up in my throat at the crowd Ashley attracted, I couldn't help but laugh as Madison marched up to the girls, her own jealousy getting the better of her.

"I smell skanks." Madison sniffed in the air to exaggerate. Then, shooing the girls away, she added, "why don't you girls just pack it up before I leave tread marks on your face?"

Ashley snorted at Madison's ridiculous jealousy, and I chuckled, glad that I was within earshot.

"Don't be like that, Mad, now is not the time," Ashley reprimanded the Latina girl.

Madison gave Ashley an incredulous look, as if what Ashley had said was overly offensive. "When are you going to start treating me like your girlfriend, instead of flirting with everything that has boobs?"

"I'm not your girlfriend, Madison. When are you going to start realizing that?" With that Ashley turned and joined her sister who was busy setting up their races. Ooh, she's single?

I watched from a distance how Kyla spoke to Glen, who was to officiate Kyla's race. "One race. Two grand buy-in. Winner takes all," Kyla negotiated.

I knew this was my cue to get in on the action. I promptly made my way through the crowd and stopped in front of Kyla.

"Wait up. I don't have any cash," I started, and ignored the booing of the people around me. "But I do have the pink slip right here for my car." I fished the paper out of my back pocket and stared intensely at Kyla, hoping she'd take the bait.

"Hey, wait a minute. You think you can just jump in here and challenge us?" Clay, one of Kyla's crew members asked.

I swallowed hard. This was probably the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. And I'd done some serious convincing in my life, but this was a situation unlike any other. "Well, here's my offer. I lose, the winner takes my car, clean and clear. But I win, I take the cash, and I take the respect."

"Respect?" Kyla laughed. The groupies around her laughed with her.

My eyes drifted to Ashley, who confused me with a rather smug smile on her face. Our eyes locked for a second, and I felt my knees turn to mush. "To some people that's more important."

It seemed like Kyla was considering my offer. Please take the bait, please go for it. It's now or never.

Kyla glanced over at my green Eclipse. "Is that your car?"

I nodded, and it took a second to get my legs from mush to muscle, to follow as Kyla, Ashley, Madison, Clay, and Glen made their way to my prized possession.

Clay lifted the hood and several people gasped in admiration of what modifications had been done to my Eclipse. Clay sounded excited as he started listing off what he could see. "I see a cooler intake, a NOS fogger system, T4 Turbo, an AIC controller, direct port nitrous injection…"

"And a standalone fuel management system," Kyla finished Clay's sentence. She stared at me, frowning. I suddenly felt like a teenager in my worn-down jeans, a decent fitting Metallica T-shirt, and black Converse shoes. She made me feel self conscious, and out of place, like she knew who I really was. Finally she sighed. "Okay Wilson, you're in."

A surge of adrenaline rushed through me, and I had to try really hard to keep my excitement in control. Easy now, tiger. You still have to race. A quick glance at Ashley stilled the teenager in me. Her entire demeanor has changed around me since the last time we saw each other at their coffee shop. You're way out of your league, Spencer. What the hell have you been thinking? Ashley was never into you and Kyla will eat you for lunch! But there was no backing out of the race now, I'd get myself killed. Without even crashing my car.

There was a lot of bustling around as the organizers and spectators took their places, clearing a quarter mile of street for the participants to take their chance at winning the money. I glanced to my right – being on the far left – and made eye contact with two other participants and finally, Kyla. I wondered how high the stakes were for Kyla Davies, but I knew she wasn't worried. She probably knew this race was going to her. I felt slightly nervous as I pulled up to the start line, the humming of the Eclipse's engine only slightly comforting. Unlike Kyla, the stakes for me were high. There was the car, street credibility, and of course, making it to the finish line. Alive. At this stage, only the latter mattered to me. You can do this, Spencer, you can win this.

I tapped the accelerator pedal, tempting the other drivers to do the same. The turbo whistled, giving me goosebumps. I love that sound! Ensuring that the NOS cylinders were open, and that all settings were as it should be, a last glance at the other two competitors and Ashley gave me the encouragement I needed to give this race my all. Wait, what?! Ashley?!

I did a double take and realized that Ashley had taken Kyla's place in the RX-7. What the hell? My heart raced as I tried to compose myself. This was not good, not good at all! How was I going to concentrate now?

My sudden nightmare was interrupted when two girls, who barely looked twenty-one, dressed in short miniskirts, long boots, and halter tops, walked across in front of us, waiting for the signal to start counting down. I nervously tapped on the accelerator pedal again, trying not to think of Ashley.

Get your head in the game, Spencer. Game face on, I gave a final glance at my opponents, and focused on the drag strip ahead of me. All I needed to do was hold that steering wheel as tight as I could as I picked up speed. To win, I had about nine seconds to make it to the finish line. Can't I rather trade it for nine lives?

Anticipation started building up. Cars revving, crowds holding their breaths as we waited for the two girls to lower their checkered flags. To keep my mind busy, I kept tapping, listening carefully to the whistle of the turbo. I had to make a fast pull-away. First, second, double-clutch to third, activate NOS, double-clutch to fourth if needed. All the while keeping the wheels straight. You can do this. You've done this your entire life. In go-karts…

Finally, the two girls slid in between our cars, anxiously waiting for Glen's signal. Hands shifted gears to first. One foot on clutch pedals, while the other tapped acceleration.

"Go!" Glen's voice was faint over the roaring crowd and screeching of wheels.

The combustion in the Eclipse's engine happened so quickly that I almost forgot to release the clutch pedal. My car spun out for a split-second, but after years of training behind the wheels of go-karts, I had learned how to regain control quickly. Thanks Dad! My quick reaction led to catching up to the third racer, and eventually the second. We were head to head, and I smiled at the driver, knowing that he didn't have a chance against me. He'd used his NOS after pulling away without even gaining traction. He wouldn't be able to go faster than he already did.

I was already in third gear, and still picking up speed. I knew I'd have to activate the NOS soon.

But I held back, trying to catch up to Ashley first, who was just a fraction of a second ahead of me.

Everything around me was a blur as we sped down the quarter mile that have been cleared for the race. It was as intense as I thought it would be. Adrenalin pumped through my veins the same way fuel rapidly combusted in the engine. I wheezed the same way the turbocharger whistled. And my heart beat as fast as buildings, cars, and spectators sped by. It was a great feeling. Please don't crash, please don't crash! I realized that I had to activate the NOS now to build up more speed to cross that finish line, hopefully ahead of Ashley, who was surprisingly a very good driver. With the push of a switch, a strong combustion in the engine caused the green Eclipse to blur past the spectators, and eventually past Ashley. I smiled. I was leading this race! Ashley was an entire car's length behind me.

My palms suddenly became sweaty. This was a good thing, right? I was beating Ashley Davies, sister of the queen of drag racing in LA. So why does it feel like something is wrong with this picture?

Imagine the disappointment that washed over me when Ashley, then only, nearly at the finish line, activated her third stage of NOS. Her RX-7 shot forward, leaving no chance for me to catch up. A second later she made her way over the finish line, leaving me to trail behind her. The other two guys finally caught up, their cars smoking from the engines.

When I finally switched off the engine, there were hordes of people surrounding Kyla and her car, with no Ashley in sight. A handful of people ran up to me, congratulating me, and some laughing at my loss. I didn't realize what they meant until Kyla pointed it out.

"I almost had her," I challenged her. I wish I did have Ashley.

"You never had her, Wilson. And you never had your car!" Kyla smirked, flinging herself into a tall black-haired guy's arms after shaking hands with Glen and taking the winnings. Kyla's boyfriend looked like a typical jock.

Oh shit. I've just lost my car. I just lost my car! I was so dead.

I barely had time to let it sink in as we were warned that the cops were onto us. Without even thinking, I jumped into my car, forgetting for a moment that it now belonged to Kyla Davies. She didn't seem to mind, however, as everybody scrambled to jump into their cars to avoid being arrested.

"Ashley! Where the fuck is Ashley?" I heard Kyla yelling at Madison.

I felt bad for not caring, but I really had to get out of this mess. If I got caught, there would be serious repercussions. So I did what everybody else did – sped away.