Short Stories

Resa slammed on the breaks and put her baby in park. She unstrapped herself an climbed out of the car, taking her helmet off and letting down her long, wavy brown hair. She walked calmly to her instructor, Mr. Rous, who was lounging in the announcer box.

"how did I do?" she called up to him, her voice laced with excitement.

"not your best time, but you're doing better than you have in weeks. I'm impressed," he replied with pride in his tone.

"how close?" Resa responded, her tone professional.

"missed it by three-point-seven seconds."

Resa cursed. "alright, one more time," she said.

"Resa, I gotta get outta here by four...." he responded hesitantly.

"it'll be really quick this time, ii PROMISE!" Resa begged as she backed toward her red ford camaro.

Mr Rous sighed. "all right," he said, checking his wrist-watch. "just make it as quick as your last run."

Resa fist-pumped the air, and shouted up to him, "it'll be four seconds quicker!" she hopped through the window of her car and started the engine.

Her father had bought this car for her sixteenth birthday, and they had sent it to the local repair shop to have it modified for races. It was no longer legal on the streets, but she was a real gem on the track. Resa, whose full name was Theresa, was seventeen years old, and had grown up around cars and racing. Her father had been a NASCAR champion before he was killed by a drunk driver on the freeway. Resa's dream had always been to follow in her father's footsteps, but that all changed when he died. Her times on the track hit rock bottom, and she just barely qualified for the Annapolis.

Then she met her current instructor, Mr Rous. He had been a racecar driver back in his younger years, and had seen his best friend die on the track; he had also lost his left foot in the same accident. He was traumatized by the accident, just as Resa was. The difference, however, was that he continued to do what he loved. He knew there was a risk, as all racers did, but that never stopped anybody else, so why should it stop him? And he told Resa this when they met. He tole her he wouldn't waste his time on her if she didn't give it one hundred and ten percent.

He inspired her, and she worked her ass off to regain her speed. Her times got progressively better over the course of the month between the qualifying round and the race, and she was so close. Her time had always been the best, and she wasn't going to disappoint her father now, not after everything she'd worked for.

She put the car in drive and gripped the steering wheel in anticipation, waiting for the starting light to tick to green. She watched closely as it changed from red to yellow, and her foot poised on the gas pedal. The numbers ticked down, and the light changed to green. Resa floored it. Within five seconds, she had the car up to ninety mph. She sped up. She was at one hundred and twelve when she rounded the first bend, and kept gaining speed. By the end of the bend, she had one-twenty-three. Ten laps, under four minutes and thirty-two-point-one seconds. That was her goal, and she was determined to beat it. She reached a maximum speed of one hundred eighty by the sixth lap and kept the speed up to the final lap, when she gunned it to two hundred. There was determination in her eyes as she zoomed past the line and stopped the clock. 

The car skidded to a stop and Resa climbed out. "that had to have beaten my record," she thought with determination. She looked to mr Raus and awaited his answer. Suspense was starting to build when he spoke.

"four minutes and thirty seconds flat." A new record.