Shift

Down here, though, racing is a hobby. It’s playtime for prep-school assholes. May as well give these guys the full experience.

“I don’t know, Dusty. I think maybe you can take this car. What do you think?” Tommy says, setting me up.

I grab at the back of my neck and turn to look at my Supra, that to the layperson—which these guys totally are—looks like a piece of shit.

“I don’t know, Tom. My car’s pretty old. They build these new models so fast,” I say, gleefully cataloguing all the custom work going on under my hood, things these guys would be clueless about. Hell, I bet I could pop it and show them what’s going on and they’d only see a mess and think I was a joke.

“That a Supra?” one of the guys asks. I shift a little on my feet, uneasy that one of these guys knows enough to at least understand what the body of my car is.

“Yeah. I bought it on OfferUp. What did it cost me, eight hundred?” I fake ask Tommy.

“I think it was nine, but you overpaid,” Tommy says in a wry tone. I wink at him, loving the extra effort he’s giving to this con.

“I might be able to match that thing on the road”—I gesture toward the bright green car—“but hell, I’ll probably blow a gasket before we make it halfway through the race.”

“You think? I bet it’ll hold just long enough,” Tommy lies, rubbing his chin as if really thinking about it. If anyone is blowing a gasket today, it’s one of these four assholes.

“You up for a race, man?”

And there it is. I cover my mouth and pretend I’m considering his offer, but underneath my fingers, I’m gri

“I don’t know. Maybe?” I play on, pulling out the cash in my pocket. I have two hundred bucks to my name, money I’ve kept stashed in my center console as emergency funds. I unfurl the bills and turn to look at Ha

“She’s go

“Maybe you won’t lose,” the guy says.

“Yeah, maybe you won’t lose, Dusty,” Tommy repeats.

We are all going to laugh so fucking hard about this later.

I turn back to face the guys, pinching the two hundreds in my fingers, staring at them as though I’m really mulling this over. I roll my head a little and push the money back in my pocket, then step back toward my enemy.

“All right, sure. Two hundred on the race,” I say, holding out my hand again. He takes it, chuckling through our gentleman’s agreement. His friends try to hide their own arrogant laughter behind his back. They think they’ve co

“What did you say your name was again?” I ask. He actually didn’t say, and he knows he didn’t.

“Aiden.” He lowers his glasses to the bridge of his nose, though the sun will be down in a matter of minutes.

“Aiden.” I repeat his name, nodding. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you, too . . . Dusty.” Their laughter spills out as I walk away. They ate my character up and it is so satisfying to hear them be so confident. Tommy and I bump elbows, the move i

This isn’t my turf, so I wait my turn. The night’s starting to drag on, though, and for a few minutes I am nervous the Scottsdale boys are going to bail.

Bless Ha

Oh, and taking their money.

And then, maybe, a punch in the face.

“Gentlemen!” Ha

I roll the window up and narrow my focus so the only things I see are the reflective dots that fade out down the road and Ha

It’s less formal out here. Nobody shouts “start your engines” because our cars are already revving and our windows are up. It’s a matter of anticipation, and watching for the hair trigger sign that the starter’s hand is about to fall. I have the edge because I know Ha

Ha

My lip ticks up on one side because I like it.

My hands feel the grip of the wheel and I move my right palm to the gear shift, my hold on it loose and ready. My pulse settles in at a rhythm I like. Originally, I pla

Ha

That chance left the minute I got behind the wheel, asshole.

I’m at one-twenty faster than I’ve climbed there before, and my body swells with dominant blood. There’s nothing now but me and the road. My gaze zooms ahead, to the marker, and I play with the edge of the gear shift as I approach it, flirting with how I’ll make this turn. My lead is so long that Aiden will have to watch, so I want to make it special.

I punch the brake and flip around, barely skidding offline before passing Aiden and roaring back ahead. I imagine him swearing and shaking a fist out his window, and that cartoonish visual amuses me as I sail back to the place I started, not even bothering to roll through the finish line at top speed. I downshift and pull to the side in time to make room for the Subaru to speed through the line of cars, and I’m out of my car before Aiden slows enough to turn.

“Uh, I thought we were going in subtle,” Tommy says, clapping his hand on my back.

I shrug.

“I decided to make a point instead,” I answer.

“And that point is . . .”

I turn to walk backward as we head toward Ha

“Nice race,” Ha

Tommy exaggerates an eye roll and gives us some space. I pick her up and swing her around in a complete circle while I kiss her. She wraps her legs around me and tucks the roll of money into the breast pocket of my long-sleeved T-shirt, patting it twice for safe-keeping.