“Get on my shoulders,” he said. “We’ll go to the fence.”

I climbed on, wavering for a moment when he stood up. Holy shit, he was tall. He walked with me over to the fence, giving me a perfect view of the competition. Manson and Lucas came up alongside us, and together, we watched the lights flash, counting down to the start.

Jason and the other driver rocketed from the starting line. I cheered as they whipped through the turns, Jason chasing the car in the lead. He stayed so close, I couldn’t understand how they didn’t collide when the vehicles changed their angle and their tires screamed, leaving long streaks of black rubber on the track.

“Fuck yes, that was good,” Vincent said, leaning closer to the fence. The only thing I had to hold on to up there was his head, so my fingers were tangled in his long hair. But he didn’t seem to mind at all. “That was a really solid run.”

The two cars went again, with Jason in the lead this time. But his opponent faltered behind, struggling to keep up with Jason’s speed and securing him the win.

The competition was whittled down from thirty-two drivers to sixteen, then eight, and finally down to only four drivers remaining. Manson and Lucas worked quickly in between runs, changing tires and refueling as Jason cooled off in the shade. He hadn’t eaten a thing all day, but when I offered him some fries, he just bounced on his feet, shaking his head.

“Can’t eat, too excited,” he said. He was absolutely thriving here, all smiles as he zipped up for the next run.

Jason remained solidly consistent through every match-up, even when the lead driver in his last run lost control and spun out, swerving across the asphalt in front of him. He had to move quickly to avoid them, and my heart was in my throat as he executed the remainder of the course alone. His opponent was eliminated, and the competition had come down to the final two drivers.

Jason and the driver of the old gray BMW I’d watched practice when we first arrived.

Anxious energy vibrated through me as I sat on Vincent’s shoulders, waiting for them to begin. Lucas was pacing along the fence, and Manson had his arm braced against the wire, his foot tapping rapidly as he watched.

The first run started, with Jason chasing the other driver. His opponent’s car was clearly powerful, pulling ahead of him at first. But he readjusted and closed the gap. The two cars were impossibly in sync, as if they were controlled by the same person as they flew through the course. My throat was raw from cheering so loud, but I couldn’t contain my excitement as they finished and lined up for the final run.