Full Throttle

a muscular build and creamy smooth brown skin. The groupies didn’t care that he was black. Maybe that was part of the problem in a predominantly white and male-dominated sport.
Colby had overheard a few girls talking about his chiseled jawline, broad shoulders, and sexy-as-sin smile. They said he was impossibly handsome. Colby didn’t see him that way at all. To her, he was just an incredibly talented driver, gifted even.
He was her hero. In Colby’s mind, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, and nobody could tell her any differently.
She grinned from ear to ear. “You’re going to win this thing. I can feel it.”
He returned her smile. “I’m just trying to follow in your footsteps. When I was fifteen, I did not have your skills.”
Colby beamed as she basked in his compliments. “Thanks! In a few more years, I’ll be eighteen and eligible for the Xfinity Cup.”
“They ain’t ready for you. They are not ready.” He continued to heap on the praise. “Your last race had me taking notes. I plan to use a few of your tricks. You killed it in your last race.”
Colby blushed. She had killed it and, more importantly, won.
He continued to juice her up. “I’m calling it now, Colby James, the first black woman to win in a NASCAR Cup series. We’re both going to make history. Only I’m doing it today.” He wasn’t arrogant, just confident.
Colby believed every word that came out of his mouth. The man could have said the water in rivers came from Mars, and she would have believed it simply because he said it. However, she wasn’t completely naïve. Colby understood that some of the teams didn’t think he deserved to be in a car next to theirs simply because of the color of his skin. He’d had to be better than great just to qualify. Even with all the opposition, Colby did not doubt that he would maneuver out of any traps to win. He was—The Magician—after all.
Her father’s booming voice rang loud and clear, interrupting their conversation. “It’s race time.”
Quickly, Colby stood up on tiptoe and whispered into his ear. “Rev the engine . . .”
His eyes danced as he winked. “Drop that pedal.”
He finished her sentence and tapped the bib of her baseball cap as he backed away. It was their good luck saying before each and every race.
Colby watched her idol turn and pump his fist in the air before yelling out to his teammates. “Let’s go make history!”
*****
It was hard to ignore the sea of confederate flags in the stands and the racist taunts they received when Daughtry Racing came out onto the track to walk over to pit row.
Colby had never heard the word nigger used so much in her life. Even though she knew that Daughtry Racing would not only be competing against other drivers, and fighting a system that wanted to keep people like them out, the viciousness of some in the crowd was jarring. Colby thought it was crazy that people could get so angry over skin color.
Once they arrived at the pit, Colby could no longer hear all the madness. She simply picked up her clipboard, put on her headset, and waited for the race to begin. She watched as teams drove around the track a few times to warm up their tires. Finally, Colby watched with bated breath as their star driver pulled up into his position.
Seconds ticked by as they waited for the event to get underway . . . then BOOM! The green flag dropped, signaling the start of the race.
Colby’s heart felt like it was lodged in her throat. How she was going to jot down any stats when she couldn’t keep her eyes off of his car—Lucky #12?
It wasn’t long after the race started that Colby realized winning would be a lot tougher than she imagined. As a matter-of-fact, after the first lap, her confidence began to slip. She knew it would be a challenge, but it quickly became apparent that alliances had been formed. Teams were actively working together against Lucky #12.
Her palms became a hot, sweaty mess. Her nerves were going to be shot.
The Magician was having a hard time summoning the magic that usually helped get him out of tight spots. He was being bumped and pushed with reckless abandon and was struggling to keep control of his car.
Colby’s chest was rising and falling at a rapid rate. The loud thumps ringing in her ears was her own heartbeat. Every single time one of their drivers entered a curve, Colby would stop breathing as she watched the recklessness of the other drivers. “This is sheer madness,” she said into her headset.
His car was coming out of a curve and into a straightaway when he got boxed in again. Other teams were doing a good job of keeping Daughtry’s lead driver from passing. Then he was hit hard by driver #22.
He swerved and almost ran into another car.
Colby yelled, “Did you see that!?!” She looked around and screamed at no one in particular. “That was an illegal move. Why aren’t they calling a penalty?!”
Still, The Magician managed to steady himself only to get bumped again. This time even harder. As if in slow motion, his tires and car lifted from off the track. What felt like hours of being suspended in the air were mere seconds when his car finally landed. It rolled over several times before smashing into a wall and bursting into a large, red ball of flames.
Colby’s knees buckled as she watched in horror.
In a cold sweat, Colby awoke with a start. She squinted at the sunlight streaming through the windows. The glare was so bright that it was almost blinding. It took a moment for her to adjust.
Morning had finally arrived and not a moment too soon because Colby couldn’t take any more. She was utterly exhausted.
“Rev the engine.”
“What?”