License to Choose

Chapter 18.

"You need to work on that drift," His father announced as Mason opened the door of the kart, his lungs aching with breathlessness as they struggled to inflate.

"I...I know," he panted, feeling his hair matte to his head from sweat as he removed the helmet and climbed out of the car. "I just can't keep up the speed; I'm bordering 105 miles per hour, but,"

"You're dropping to 90," His dad nodded, placing a hand on his chin as he attempted to find a solution, "I'll work on the car later tonight, and then-"

"Tonight?" Mason queried, "but aren't you coming to The Sinclair's? It's Friday?" His father's grim expression told him all he needed to know, and Mason sighed,  nodding in empathy. "I'll see you later then; I have school in half an hour,"

"Drive safe," His father wished, taking the keys and driving the kart towards the garage, leaving Mason to walk alone to the silver Toyota parked on the side of the road. The November chill had arrived early, and the town of Rye had fully embraced the appearance of winter by stringing lights up around the harbour.

Still, despite the sweat Mason had worked up, the brisk five-minute walk had exposed him enough to the cold, ensuring that he shivered on his journey back home, where a hot shower hopefully awaited him. Since Anya's birthday two weeks ago, his father had increased his practice, which meant most mornings, the pair were awake from 5 am.  Along with his shifts at the diner and school, things had been hectic at best, but it was all for one specific reason.

On the 8th of December, he was participating in his first semi-major league race, that should he place, would qualify him for the competition currently being arranged in March. The pandemic had once more rocked the tiny nation, but Boris' rules had prevented most from needing to self-isolate, which meant the race would unlikely be cancelled. Part of Mason was glad, however; at least it would mean that all of his hard work wouldn't be wasted. It was just a couple more weeks, and then he could somewhat relax.

Mason still didn't want to race, but this wasn't just about him, it was for his brother too, and if he could participate, then he could move on and sing. It was a blatant lie he was telling himself, and all those who knew him well would be able to say the same thing...but it was a fib he didn't have the time or capacity to deny.

The covid situation was worsening, however, and each time they watched the news from the school cafeteria, Mason could see fear brighten Anya's brown eyes. Though he didn't know the extent of her mother's condition, and she had appeared somewhat okay in the video, his girlfriend's concern was reason enough for Mason to marginally understand what she had suddenly become so paranoid about.

Anya wouldn't even allow Mason to hold her hand without applying sanitiser, and she was one of the few students who was now wearing a mask and cleaned every seat and table they sat on, with the unlimited packets of wipes she kept in her bag.

It was undoubtedly a behavioural change, but Mason could only respect it. The threat was real after all; he just hoped the situation wouldn't escalate to the degree it had at the beginning of the year. Still, as a precaution, the school's charity Christmas ball had been delayed until further notice, which meant that the one thing he had been looking for was now unlikely going to occur. The grim smile Taylor had offered when he'd seen her across the corridor the day before was a slight indication that she would be making an announcement sooner rather than later.

School felt seemingly empty by the time he did arrive, and the once filled parking area with students exiting the bus now resembled a trickle, the loud chatter reduced to small talk as he followed their direction into school.
"Hey," Lucas greeted,  as he walked into the classroom, "You look knackered,"