Page 108 of Losers, Part I
“I’m not going to lose against a fucking Corvette, that’s forsure,” he said, excitement in his voice as he slid down from the Bronco and headed toward his car. But he gave me one last wink over his shoulder before he got into the driver’s seat. “I’ll win just for you, princess.”
The stands had filled, crowds gathering along the fence for a better view of the action as the first segment of the competition began. Lucas and Manson had come equipped with tools, extra parts, and even spare tires. Our area of the pit was set up like a miniature version of their garage.
“Excited?” Vincent said, coming to join me on my perch atop the Bronco. It was the perfect spot to watch the action, and was partially shaded from the sun by the canopy the men had assembled to work underneath.
“Very,” I said. Jason was about to start his first official run through the course, and nerves were making my hands sweat. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so anxiously invested on someone else’s behalf. I’d really meant it when I’d said I wanted him to win today. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but all these drivers seem so good.”
“Believe it or not, this isn’t even a professional-level competition,” Vincent said. “All these drivers are considered amateurs.”
“What?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Holy shit, I can’t imagine what the pros are like, then!”
“Their cars are a hell of a lot louder, for one,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Speaking of which, I was supposed to give you these.” I held out my hand, and he dropped a pair of plastic earbuds into them. “They’re earplugs. They’ll block out the worst of the noise, but you’ll still be able to hear conversations up close. Try them out if you like. It can get pretty loud.”
There was something exciting about the noise though, so I leftout the earplugs for the time being. When Jason moved up to the starting line and revved his engine, burning out his tires and spewing clouds of smoke, I loved feeling the rumble of the engine through my limbs and how the deep sound reverberated in my chest.
When he shot forward from the starting line, I couldn’t look away. I held my breath as he entered the first curve, his car sliding sideways as his back tires stayed perfectly within the lined zone along the wall. The next turn required him to wrench his wheel in the opposite direction, changing the angle of his slide. As he came into the last turn, I could barely see him through the smoke, so I balanced myself on the Bronco’s front bumper as I tried to see.
He came flying out of the cloud, swerving through the final turn. The audience cheered, the metallic voice of the announcer calling the run “impressive.”
Impressive wasn’t a good enough word for it. It was incredible, heart-stopping. To control a vehicle going at those speeds through turns like that was stunning.
Jason went again, and this time, his driving was even faster and tighter. I was too enthralled by the excitement of it all to realize he’d hit every mark he was required to until Vincent pumped his fist victoriously.
“He’s on it today,” Manson said, smiling proudly as Jason slowly drove the Z around the backside of the track and back toward the pit.
“Heading for first, baby, I can feel it!” Vincent said excitedly, clapping his hands as Jason backed the Z under the canopy.
“You’ll get into the Top 32 for sure, man,” Lucas said, offering Jason his hand to pull himself out of the car. He pulled off his helmet, smiling widely as he shook his hair out of his face. Lucas and Manson were immediately getting down to business, opening the hood and beginning the process of replacing thetires.
“How’s she driving out there?” Manson said, pulling on his gloves.
“Might be running a little rich. I was idling rough after the first run,” Jason said, unzipping his jumpsuit as he stood in the shade. He poured half a bottle of water over his head, and the liquid dripped down his chest. I used a pamphlet I’d found like a fan, waving it to help cool him down. The sun was out in full force today; he was probably sweating his balls off in that jumpsuit.
The announcer gave Jason’s final score, and Vincent cheered again. “Ninety-three!” he exclaimed, shaking Jason’s shoulders in his excitement as the smaller man laughed. “I knew you fucking killed it out there.”
With the top half of his jumpsuit tied around his waist, Jason came over to rest beside me in the shade. They were selling beers inside and Vincent had gotten one for me, although none of the men were drinking. But I was having a great time, sipping an ice-cold beer and watching the competition.
“Rub that on my back, would you?” Jason said, leaning against the hood as I ran the cold aluminum can over his shoulders. He shivered in contentment, sighing as he closed his eyes. “It’s hot as fuck in that car.”
“You were amazing to watch out there,” I said, my breath hitching for a moment when he opened his eyes. I didn’t think I would ever quite get used to how blue they were. “What happens now?”
“I qualified for the next stage of competition,” he said, humming gratefully when I slid the can down his back. “Next up is tandem drifting.”
“Tandem? What’s that?”
“You’ll see. I’d hate to spoil the surprise for you.” He straightened, the two of us watching Lucas and Manson work.Vincent had brought a small speaker along and Manson had his phone hooked up to it, playing “Hunting Season” by Ice Nine Kills. It was the first time I’d watched him and Lucas working together, and it was clear how practiced they were. It was like they could read each other’s minds, grabbing tools for each other before a single word had been said.
At one point, as they both fiddled with something under the hood, Manson leaned close and whispered in Lucas’s ear. Lucas looked up at him with wide eyes, freezing for a moment before he shook his head and scoffed, his face reddening. I had no idea what had been said, but it still made me smile.
“What are you grinning about?” Jason said, resting his arm on my thighs.
“Just watching you guys,” I said, leaning back on my hands. “It makes me feel happy when Manson and Lucas flirt with each other, or you and Vincent…I don’t know, it’s nice to see. I’m not sure if I can explain it.”
“Sounds like compersion,” he said. “It’s when you feel happy for someone else’s happiness. Like when Vincent flirts with you, I know he’s enjoying himself and enjoying your company. So it makes me happy.”
“I had no idea there was a word for that,” I said. “It’s like the opposite of jealousy.”
“Yeah, it’s like that. Finding joy in other people’s joy. That’s part of why the four of us get along so well. We really want to see each other happy.”