There was something exciting about the noise though, so I left out 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 the tires.

“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.”