On their way, they ran into the ticket girl. She signaled toward her mom, who was watching her dad’s group stacking up his road stock vehicle. It was the vehicle that beat Ty. He said nothing.
Hollie Franklin was standing right next to her, with a filthy imprint on the facade of her shirt, right to her left side tit.
“Have to go…can’t remain for Patty’s race. Mother has a cerebral pain or some poo. I desire to see y’all one week from now.” The ticket girl said.
“No doubt, alright,” he said. Now that she was well into Saturday night racing, and covered with the nature of it, he knew she was a naughty girl. Not the kind he had to be allowed to bring home to Papa. His father had once commented about a girl he met at the racetrack. He told him, “If you want to screw her, that’s fine, but she’s trash. Don’t date her.” That was the first time he realized how much he didn’t like his father, yet he still lived his life trying to impress him.
When they got to their spot at turn five, Derek said, “Did you see her shirt? You imagine that was her hand shaped impression or another person’s?”
Robert eliminated a nonexistent line from his mouth and said, “Indeed, I can’t say, though it merits an examining.” The two of them chuckled. “You ought to have asked and cleaned it for her.”
“Damnit… I didn’t remember that, why?” Derek smacked his temple. “Hope you don’t mind if I clean this soil off your fantastic tit?”
“You could have expressed yourself better, yet it would’ve been worth asking.” Robert stated.
“Not certain…ticket girl would have endorsed. She appears to be somehow possessive, doesn’t she?”
Robert suspected as much, but before he could say anything, he heard the vehicles. “Here they come,” he said, and highlighted the furthest side of the track by turn three.
25 Adjusted Late-model vehicles entered the back immediately and thundered towards them.
“Try not to talk once the race begins,” Robert said. The vehicles crisscrossed past. “We will not have the option to hear one another. You will adore this.”
Once more, the bunch of vehicles came around, and Robert’s pulse expanded with the rhythm of their motors. The flagman held up one finger. “Next two turns…”
Packed in, the vehicles appear to snarl at one another down the back immediately, all pushing, but kept down by the two vehicles in front.
The tension inherent in his chest and Robert’s clench hands gripped.
“There’s Patty in the pack, outside column.” He quit breathing when they arrived at turn five.
The green banner dipped through the air and 24 vehicles thrust for the beginning line. The stunning thunder incapacitated the group. Robert’s body shook, his knuckles were white, and his eyes followed the number fifteen as it cut through a dust storm.
His clench hands slackened and he breathed in. The hundred mile-per-hour gridlock channeled down into turn one, every vehicle tracking down a spot. Patty had to endure the beginning and had passed three vehicles before falling back in line.
“She will win,” he yelled, however no one could hear him.
27 laps and four alerts later, he took a gander at Derek and said, “She will win. You watch what she rehashes when the green banner flies?”
“I know she’s great, however she’s fifth with just three laps to go,” Derek said, and moved foot to foot. “This is unbelievable.”
“I know. The main thing better than this is fucking…”
“What’d you say?” Derek shouted.
The green banner flew and Robert bounced around, shouting, but the roaring motors muffled his voice. Patty pushed under the third-place vehicle, and they went three wide past the banner stand. She was ready to take two spots going into turn one. Or, on the other hand, crash.
“Watch,” he yelled into Derek’s ear, “you’ll cherish this.”
Patty emerged from the subsequent turn and went wide. She was in third spot. The second-place vehicle climbed, attempting to obstruct her charge, yet she birded to the base, and they went into three together. In the turn, Patty banged doors with the number eight, and pulled ahead emerging from turn four. Fuckly Bones, in his number eight, rested and recuperated while Patty got up to speed to the primary spot vehicle. The white flew and the number 22 and number fifteen cruised into turn one, nose to tail.
She utilized her energy to slingshot beyond Eric, the eldest of the two Y-siblings. Eric had raced Patty enough to know her stunts, and he floated up, pushing her to the wall. She eased off and followed him into turn three, then, cut hard and got within edge of Eric thusly four, pulling alongside him immediately.
Robert punched Derek and tossed his clench hands up high. The two vehicles raced down the front stretch, scouring tyres the whole way to the checkered banner. Eric lost by a guard.
Derek yelled, “Mother lover! I practically came. What sort of lady would she say she is?”
Robert looked around to check whether anyone was gazing, then, expressed, “Come on, let’s go.” He took off towards the pits, with Derek close behind.
When they got to the pits, Patty had to move out of the vehicle and opened her race suit like a half stripped banana, hanging at her midsection.
“Oh dear,” Robert expressed, pointing at the oncoming Fuckly Bones.
“They don’t look blissful.”
Derek’s eyes enlarged. “Is there going to be a battle?”
“I want to think not,” Robert laughed, “for the good of they.”
“What screwed up driving was that?” Fuckly Bones asked, with three burly guys backing him.
Patty started forward, and two guys scrambled to catch up with her.
“If you’d been driving and not obstructing, you could have…”
“Hello,” Brain said, and ventured between the two teams. “Everyone settle down.” His voice was clearly calm.
Robert looked at Derek, then back at his six-foot six, 200 eighty pound uncle, who was gazing intently at the four beefy men. “This is racing, to make it something different… ”
“No, no,” Fuckly Bones said. “I just got out of hand, there’s nothing more to it. Great race.”
“Extraordinary, much obliged, Fuckly Bones,” Brain stood out his monster hand. “You realize you’ve gotten a few that way.”
Fuckly Bones shook hands and said, “Right, better believe it, I have. See y’all one week from now.” Protesting softly, the men withdrew towards their pits.
Derek got Robert’s arm. “Is your uncle part of this, uh…this, everything?”
“He works at the paper factory. Being reticent doesn’t mean they’re in the horde.”
They assisted Patty’s group with stacking up, then hit the road for Derek’s home.