Nights in the Fast Lane: A Contemporary Romantic Comedy

by Grace Risata

  I looked at her face and saw that she was dead serious. I did not want to do this. Not at all. I started to shake my head to tell her ‘no’ but she wasn’t done arguing.

  “I can do anything that Spider does as a co-pilot. You said there’s no way you can lose this race, to trust you. So what does it matter if I go with?”

  “For starters, Spider won’t scream like a girl through the whole race and throw up on the front seat.”

  “I won’t do any of that. I was perfectly fine when you were racing Trent’s Porsche,” she reminded me.

  “This is faster than Trent’s Porsche. And there are nine other drivers whizzing along next to us.”

  “I don’t care. I’m doing it,” she insisted. “Let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of me racing with Dane, raise your hands.”

  Spider and Izzy immediately raised their hands. Winter slowly put hers up and shrugged at me.

  “Let her do it,” she said. “She’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

  I had at least expected Winter to take my side. This was bullshit.

  I was about to have a meltdown when Barrett poked his dumb ass into the conversation.

  “If you let her do it, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were. This is why my Grandmother wanted to take Izzy under her wing and raise her RIGHT. We have a reputation to uphold. I don’t want the family name being dragged through the mud because THIS ONE,” he gestured to Izzy, “makes reckless choices. She clearly can’t take care of herself.”

  That pushed me right over the edge. This was the kind of behavior that Izzy was running away from. She COULD take care of herself. She did a damn good job of taking care of me, too.

  “Spider, get the five grand NOW before we race. Izzy, get in the car. If you make me regret this---“

  Izzy squealed in happiness before I could even finish my sentence.

  I mentally berated myself as I walked back to my car. I should not have given in. There were eight hundred different ways this could all go wrong and bite me in the ass. I let Izzy and Winter explain to Monica that I would be having a new co-pilot. She was none too happy about it either, but I explained that I got outvoted. Monica demanded a re-count. It was now four against two. Ant sided with Izzy, Winter, and Spider. I was still fucked.

  “Listen, Izzy. Your life depends on this, okay?” I told her.

  “I will do whatever you ask. I know how important this is and I will NOT mess it up,” she replied. She looked so serious. I could tell she only wanted to be with me. If she couldn’t prevent me from doing something dangerous, then she insisted on doing it right beside me. If that wasn’t loyalty and devotion, I don’t know what is.

  “Fine. Sit in the seat, buckle the belt, close your eyes, and do NOT freak out. No matter what happens out there, you have to promise me that you’ll keep your cool. No yelling, no telling me to stop the car, and no backing out. Once we start the race, we finish the race. Got it?”

  “I understand. I won’t do anything to distract you. I can handle this. I’ve been through worse and survived.”

  I nodded my head. For some reason, I trusted her. Izzy gave Monica and Winter a hug and told them to look after Kitty if she died. Winter rolled her eyes and assured Izzy that she would be fine. Monica shot me a dirty look, as if this were somehow my fault.

  Ant wished us luck and Spider gave me a short pep talk.

  “Stay calm, be vigilant, and watch your back. I don’t like the Russians. I think they’re up to something. Listen to your race music, stay focused, and go kick some ass.”

  I got behind the wheel and made sure Izzy was tightly buckled up. I put in my music and took one last look at Izzy. She looked as white as a ghost.

  “Just relax and close your eyes if you get scared. Listen to the music and pretend you’re somewhere else. Imagine yourself on Space Mountain,” I told her.

  She leaned over and gave me a quick kiss.

  “For good luck,” she said. Then she made the sign of the cross. I don’t know what that was for. Perhaps her faith in me was not as strong as she claimed.

  “Are you ready, your highness?” I asked her.

  “Let’s burn rubber!”

  I started the car and revved the engine. Time to do some damage and show these punks who owned the road.

  The first song on my race playlist blared at full volume. It was Metallica’s “Fuel.”

  Izzy started to sing along. “Give me fuel, give me fire, give me that which I desire—“ but she got cut off when they fired the starting gun and we took off like a bat out of hell.

  My first challenge was getting out of the complex in one piece. Nine drivers were going to hit the exit gate at the same time, and it was only wide enough for two to fit through. I learned my lesson the hard way last year. I had to stomp on the brakes in order to avoid a massive pile-up with the other cars. This year I had a plan. I learned from my mistakes.

  We came up to the gate, neck and neck with the other guys. Some sped up, some slowed down, and some started to panic. Dallas and Green got caught in the bottleneck and smashed into each other. It looked like they only sustained minor damage, but it would be enough to keep them out of the running. You couldn’t get up to speeds over 140mph with front end damage.

  I was nowhere near the action, because I went through the gate. Not through the gate as in the traditional sense. I stepped on the gas and knocked out a portion of the chain link fence. I was going pretty fast and the fence wasn’t made to withstand much. No sweat. A few guys had the brains to follow me through and take advantage of my idea.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Izzy.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Nice short cut. That’s all.”

  I think she was too afraid to talk in complete sentences.

  I took a look in my rearview mirror to see who was directly behind me. It was Carson. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t alone.

  “Hey, Izzy, I’m not the only one with a passenger. It looks like Barrett tagged along on this little joy ride.” That was strange. I wonder if that was planned or a last minute decision. Didn’t matter. I’d beat them no matter how many people were in the car.

  “Drive faster,” Izzy said. “Don’t let em’ win!”

  “We’re just getting started. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Just relax and enjoy the next song. I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with the group.” I knew that AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ was coming on next. I also knew she liked them from the song she played when I stripped.

  Sure enough I heard her start laughing next to me when the song began. Good. She’s doing fine. I can concentrate on the next phase. We were approaching downtown and this was going to get messy. At least two cars were out and I only had seven left to deal with.

  Nope. Make that six. That stupid ass Nascar driver just took a turn too fast and smashed into a concrete barrier. Those guys never realize that the streets are a lot narrower than the track. When you’re going around a corner you have to slow down faster than usual.

  “We’re down to six competitors, baby.”

  “What? Who’s out?” she asked.

  “Green, Dallas, and Nascar all crashed.”

  “Are they hurt?”

  “I doubt it.”

  I had to hit the brakes to avoid crashing through a sharp turn and repeating the dumbass mistake that Nascar just made. I better quit talking and start paying attention.

  I was closing in on Gage’s car directly ahead of me. He must be slowing down to take the corners at a slower speed. That’s not how he usually operated. He liked to rocket through them like a crazy man.

  Mystery solved. Smoke is coming from under his hood. What a time to have engine trouble. After my blown engine in the last race, I could definitely relate. Tough break.

  At least that narrows the field a little bit. I didn’t expect the herd to thin out this fast. I wa
s getting closer to the grand prize. Can’t get cocky. Smart and steady wins the race.

  Suddenly the Russians both shot past me like they had jet-fueled turbo boosters attached to their engines. That could only be one thing. Nitrous.

  “Those mother fuckers are CHEATING! They can’t use nitrous!” I screamed at no one in particular.

  “I thought that was illegal,” Izzy said. “Weren’t the cars inspected?”

  “Yeah, unless someone bribed whoever was supposed to be checking that shit.”

  Ivan and Yuri got a nice head start, but we were in the city and there were still hairpin turns to make. It wasn’t a straight shot. They wasted their little trick.

  Ghost caught up to the Russians and I was directly behind him. I backed off in case this got ugly. I guess my instincts paid off, because ugly wasn’t the word for it. Disaster was better.

  We all sped down a two lane city street and we couldn’t pass the Russians because they were blocking the road. One was in the correct lane while the other was in the oncoming lane. Short of driving on the sidewalk, which was a good way to get killed, we had no other option. Ivan and Yuri kept speeding up and then slowing down, fucking with us.

  Ivan sped up and got in front of Yuri in the right lane. Ghost took that as an opportunity to pass them both on the left. He didn’t consider that there was a REASON that Yuri slowed down to let Ivan get into his lane. That reason was called oncoming traffic. Ghost swerved to avoid hitting a motorcycle head on. He ran right into a street light. Fuck. Injuries from that would be a certainty.

  I took a quick look at Izzy to see how she was holding up. Her eyes were wide and she covered her mouth with her hand, obviously not wanting to process what she just witnessed. Thank God that her parents didn’t die in a car accident or she would never get over that.

  “He’ll be okay,” I said, hoping I was right about that.

  RING RING.

  What the fuck? My phone was ringing. It was sitting in the console and it was actually ringing.

  “Could you answer that?” I asked Izzy. If it was a telemarketer, I swear I would throw it right out the window.

  Izzy picked up the phone and listened. She then hit a button and I heard Spider on speakerphone.

  “Dane, what the fuck is going on out there? Barrett’s friend just handed me his phone. Barrett was on the line telling me that the Russians are racing dirty. He wants to team up with you because he doesn’t want to see Izzy get killed. What is happening?”

  “The Russians have Nitrous and they just played a little game of cat and mouse that ended with Ghost almost getting into a head-on collision. Don’t really have time to make small talk right now!” We had about three more blocks and then we were out of the city and heading to the highway. We would only gain speed from there and I had to make sure we made it that far.

  “Who’s left?” Spider asked.

  “Um…the three Gs are out,” Izzy replied. “Dallas and Nascar are done, too. It’s down to Dane, Barrett, and the Russians.”

  “What about Rafael?” Spider questioned.

  “Not sure,” I said. “Haven’t seen him lately. Trying to concentrate on what’s in front of me and not behind me.”

  We cleared the city just in time for the next song to start. Eminem’s ‘Lose Yourself’ boomed from the radio, the bass thump shaking the whole car.

  I tore onto the freeway and tried to calm down. I hated the claustrophobic city portion. I opened her up and we were cruising along at a nice comfortable 130mph. Carson and Barrett shot past me and caught up to the Russians. I wasn’t getting anywhere near them until I absolutely had to. With Izzy in the car, there was no way I could afford to be reckless.

  “Still there, Dane?” Spider asked.

  “Yeah. We hit the expressway and I have room to maneuver.”

  “Just thought you should know that Ghost is fine. The spotters called for help and went to check on him. He might have some broken bones, but nothing he can’t recover from.”

  Izzy let out a sigh of relief next to me and put her hand on her chest.

  “There are spotters in the city section,” I explained, “to make sure that no one tries to take an illegal short cut and cheat. The people watching would have seen Ghost’s accident and got him help. See…it’s okay.”

  “Why didn’t the spotters see that the Russians were cheating and disqualify them?” she wisely asked.

  “It’s hard to say what they witnessed. This isn’t exactly a sport where all the rules are followed.”

  We exited the freeway and got off in a suburban neighborhood. This was the fourth phase. It was just as dangerous because the cops liked to patrol out here and it was not uncommon to get caught. One of the guys last year got arrested during this leg of the competition. Fortunately this didn’t last very long and the final phase would take us right back to the industrial complex. A giant drag strip led us to the finish line and a winner would be crowned. I just had to make it that far in one piece.

  Carson dropped back and I found myself creeping up on the Russians. I could make a move and take the lead if I played my cards right. Since it was a residential neighborhood with wider streets, there was no way they could outmaneuver me. I had room to run.

  SCREECH.

  They could, however, sideswipe me. Which is what they just did. Fuck. I struggled to maintain control of the car while I plotted my next move.

  “Hang on, we’re ok,” I told Izzy as I swung the wheel in the other direction and hit them right back. My Toyota was stronger than it looked. “Just pretend you’re on a really fast roller coaster and close your eyes,” I said to try and calm her down. I had no idea how bad she was freaking out because I couldn’t take my eyes off the road.

  “This doesn’t happen on Space Mountain!” was the reply I received.

  “What about Thunder Mountain? It’s a Small World? I heard that Mr. Toad’s ride is pretty wild.”

  “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride isn’t even THERE anymore!” she corrected me.

  “If you’re arguing with me, then it means you aren’t shitting your pants. Just hang on!”

  One of the Russians lurched forward and he spun out like a giant hand just flicked the back of his car. Carson had actually rear-ended him, sending him spiraling toward an intersection and completely off the course.

  “Woo-hoo!” Izzy screamed, “Score one for the good guys!”

  Her celebration was interrupted when my walkie-talkie came to life. “Cops spotted on Elwood Street. Change route to Maple. Repeat. Change route to Maple. Elwood has been compromised.”

  At least the spotters were doing their job watching out for cops.

  “What happened?” Spider screamed from the other end of the phone. Oops. I forgot he was still with us.

  “Carson and Barrett just rear-ended one of the Russians and he spun out. Cops were spotted on Elwood and we changed course,” I explained.

  “That was awesome!” Izzy yelled from the passenger seat.

  “So you like Barrett now?” Spider asked. “All it takes to get on your good side is to wipe out a few Russians?”

  “It’s a good start, I guess,” she admitted. “I still hate him. But I do appreciate his efforts.”

  The radio went silent and Izzy pointed to it and immediately started complaining.

  “The radio went out. I can’t race without road music!”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, YOU aren’t the one racing, I am. Also, give it a second. Another song is about to come on.”

  This last one was my favorite. I found it inspirational. The sounds of Alabama’s ‘I’m in a hurry” soothed my battered soul.

  “Hell yeah,” Izzy exclaimed and started to sing again. Ok. To be honest, that girl had no singing skills of any sort. It was more like a wild cat yowling at the top of its lungs. At least she got the words right. “All I really gotta do is live and die, but I’m in a hurry and don’t know why.”

  This was ac
tually more fun with her as my co-pilot. We were about to re-enter the industrial complex and I had to figure out a way to win this thing. There were four cars left. Carson/Barrett, a Russian, Rafael, and me. I had no idea where Rafael was. Knowing that idiot, he already crashed and we were none the wiser.

  To get to the final drag strip and the finish line, we had to use the back entrance to the industrial complex. Carson and Barrett were right next to me, but slowly losing power. I think it didn’t do his car any favors when he rear-ended the Russian. It was a nice sacrifice, but he would pay for it. I looked over at them, and Barrett shook his head and waved me forward. It was all up to me. I put the pedal to the metal, but that wasn’t going to cut it. It turns out that Ivan (or was it Yuri? Don’t know, don’t care) had one more trick up his sleeve.

  So I’m running neck and neck with the last Russian. He’s matching my pace, positioned directly to the right of my car. He rolled down his window, stuck his arm out, and flashed a gun. Everything after that happened in slow motion. I screamed at Izzy to get down, thinking he was going to shoot us. The Russian aimed his gun at my tire and fired. I immediately hit the brakes and struggled desperately to keep control of the vehicle with a blown tire. I also tried to create distance between us in case he decided to shoot again. Out of nowhere, Rafael blasted past me. He came within inches of the Russian’s car and started firing his own gun. I guess I was the only driver in this race without an arsenal of weapons. The Russian must have been hit because he veered off to the right and drastically reduced speed.

  “No fucking way!” I screamed. “Did you SEE that shit?”

  “No,” Izzy said, “I did NOT see that whole gun battle where real bullets were fired. I’m dreaming. This is all a dream. Every last part of it. It started when I hit my head on the ice walking to my car during the snowpocalypse. I thought I was in a coma. This just confirms it. I am absolutely, without a doubt, neck deep in a coma. None of this happens in real life. NONE OF IT. Hot fantasy men do not have wild sex with me. I do not compete in illegal street races, and I sure as FUCK do not see people get shot. Yeah. That settles it. None of this is real.”