Shifting Gears

10. The First Race

"Audrey," I greeted warmly. "Of course. This is Becka—she's Glen's boyfriend, don't know if you know him."

Audrey took a seat beside me and smiled across at Becka. "Audrey—Zane's cousin, I guess, if that's our introduction."

We chuckled, all looking back to the gate, and I asked, "Is Zane in this race?"

"Yep," she popped. "Number forty-three. It's crazy the competition is actually happening. Zane has been talking my ear off about this competition for the last, like twelve years."

I chuckled understandingly. "Yeah, same. Clay already has his life planned out for 'when' he wins."

"Yeah, he said you both were moving up to Northern California together?" she asked me. The sun hit her eyes and lit them up. 

I raised my own eyebrow, wondering when Clay and her had spoke about that. Seems like they maybe had a few more conversations between when they were introduced and now. I didn't push that topic though, and instead answered, "Yes, that's the plan. I start at UC Davis this fall, and it's close enough to the semi-finals that we'd just live together. I wasn't planning on staying in the dorms, and I already have an apartment lined up that I was going to live in by myself."

"You two are like, the perfect example of what every sibling relationship should be, I'm so jealous," Becka intervened, pursing her lips and chuckling. "My brother and I would tear each other apart if we were in the same room alone for more than ten minutes. I can not even imagine living with him when I graduate."

"We've been planning this for years," I said. 

"Isn't the final race at the end of August? Will you miss it?"

I shook my head. "No, classes don't start until the middle of September. So I'm not going to miss a single race."

We were cut off by the bikes beginning to rev louder, a chorus of "braap"s that raised cheers from the grandstands. I stood to watch, the two girls beside me doing the same, shielding the bright sun with a hand held to my forehead. 

All twenty-five racers leaned down, focused, their bikes' exhaust kicking up dust behind them. 

I let out my own cheer as the gate dropped, the announcer letting out an excited stream of welcoming words to the crowd. 

The first race of the two-thousand-sixteen Raven Heights Competition. A smile split across my face as the announcer said the same thing. 

Another whoop was pushed from me as I saw my brother sling away from the pack of the holeshot, taking off in the lead to the first corner and swinging himself around it, creating the first rut that racers right behind him followed.

After they had hit their first jump, Clay taking it as an easy double, I sat back down, practically bouncing on my seat with nerves.

Clay finished the first lap three seconds ahead of second place—and I let out an obnoxiously loud cheer as he hit the table jump right in front of the grandstands. 

One lap down, nineteen to go. 

Glen was third, and Zane fifth. They raced well. They all did. But my brother flew with the wind.

Dust started circling the track—the officials had watered it down right before the race started, but this drought was taking its toll. The air was hot and dry, the morning sun too hot for mid-morning. 

I let out another cheer as the blue and black clad racer passed by the stands on the second lap. 

He had to win this race. He had to win this competition. He'd been boastfully planning his life in Northern California, telling everyone his plans even though the competition hadn't even started. But secretly, I was relying on him winning this race as well.

I couldn't imagine being separated from my brother during college. I also couldn't imagine what he'd do without racing. In the back of my mind, there was no Plan B. He was going with me to Northern California.

Something nagged in the back of my mind, pulling my eyes to the right side of the grandstands, way on the opposite side of where I was seated. A dark-haired racer sat, elbows on his knees, as he watched the racer. He wasn't in his racing gear quite yet, but I still could pick him out from the other riders he sat among. 

He couldn't mess this up. Clay had to beat him. 

Suddenly, he turned his head, seemingly looking straight at me. 

Even though he wouldn't have been able to tell I was staring at him, I quickly jerked my head away, feeling my cheeks heat up even more under the California sun. 

Greyson can't mess this up. He won't. 

Willing my brother's enemy out of my mind, I watched with bated breath as Clay passed the lap line again and again, willing him to stay in lead. He spread the distance between himself and the racer behind him, eventually claiming a sixteen second lead. 

 About a half hour later, I was running down the grandstands, leaving Becka and Audrey behind, almost falling down the steps as I hurriedly pushed myself through the crowd all watching. I grabbed the cornerpost at the bottom of the stairs to sling myself around and catapult toward the chain-linked fence.

A grin was plastered to my face as I ran toward where the racers exited, pausing only to watch my brother hit the final jump, a smooth whip arcing his way as he posed for the photographer he knew was stationed at the landing. He hit the ground with a poof of dust, and I resumed my running toward the exit. 

As I weaved between the crowd, I heard the announcer saying Clay's name, congratulating him on the win. 

I could hear a bike approaching behind me on the other side of the fence, and I barely made it to the end of the fence and hopped up on to the ledge. I leaned across the fence and stretched my hand out, grinning at my brother as he drove by and clapped it. 

He had pulled his goggles off, and I could see dust was plastered to his face save for around his eyes where they'd been. He was breathing from the exertion of the race, but his eyes were lit up and his lips curved as he tried but failed to contain his smile. 

"Nobody's surprised, but nice job, Clay!" I yelled at him above the din of the other racers finishing up the race. His smile widened, and he took off around the fenceline, riding smoothly back to where his truck and trailer was parked. I watched him, taking a deep breath of relief before hopping off the ledge to follow after him. 

I paused for a minute, the crowd in the grandstands all leaving themselves. Everyone was in a good mood, excited from the adrenaline of the first race, and there had been no major crashes save for laying bikes down on corners a few times. 

They were all laughing and cheering at the racers as they drove along the fenceline and took off down the beaten dirt trail that led toward the parking field. I smiled at everyone's enthusiasm, and grinned at Audrey and Becka who I saw were walking toward the field as well, chatting up a storm. 

My eyes shifted over though, and quickly found another person who stood out in the crowd to me. 

Greyson was walking with a group of racers from Omayle, heading back toward the field. He saw me looking at him, and stared back, neither of us dropping our gaze.

The wind grabbed the curling locks of chocolate covered hair on his head, pulling it over his green eyes. His jawline tensed, then a small dimple appeared in his cheek as he smirked at me. I narrowed my eyes back at him, which made his smirk turn into a smile as he chuckled at me. Which, in turn, made my narrowed eyes turn into a glare.

He dipped his head toward me, then pulled his gaze back toward the field, and I watched as he walked away, his tall figure cutting in and out of view as the crowd sifted along the trail. 

I was grateful once more that he wasn't in this race with Clay, but apprehension started to build already for the next race day that I knew they'd be pitted against one another. Nothing good could come from that. But at least I had a week before I had to deal with that scene.

I grit my teeth. I just had to keep Clay and Greyson apart. If I could keep them away from each other, the season could go on normally and everything would be okay. 

Just keep Clay and Greyson apart.