“Holy shit!” I screamed as Mason slammed into the accelerator. I was already pressing my back nervously into the seat and holding on for my life, but the force of us launching off the line shoved me back hard.

It seemed almost like we were moving sideways at first. I could hear the wheels turning and the tires kicking up the ground below, throwing dirt directly against the undercarriage. The sound of the engine was so intense, it was terrifying.

A few cars shot in front of us immediately, mostly newer looking cars like the Corvette that had been sitting beside us and a car that looked a lot like Samantha’s Supra but was painted orange.

Mason just stared forward, unaffected by our tailspin off the start, and once the tires found traction The Beast shot forward. Within a couple seconds, we were moving faster than I had ever moved in a car.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Mason masterfully shifted his weight from the gas to the clutch and adjusted the gears up at just the right time while we grew faster and faster. We soon reached the first curve that led to the path down The Bluff and he shifted down, and continued to shift up and down knowing exactly which gear we should be in at every situation.

The thick smell of leather filled the cabin of Mason’s car. The smooth, black leather seats were rigid, and everything else seemed to be made of solid steel rather than the plastic that was in most newer cars. It was unlike anything I had ever been in before. It was old and even had an old cassette player stationed in the center, but everything seemed so clean and fresh. It was like I had been transported back to the 70s and was experiencing something that people back then experienced before I was even born.

I loved that fucking car.

Mason noticed me looking down at the cassette player. “Under your seat,” he said.

“What?”

“Look under your seat for music,” he grunted as he pulled down on his stick and whipped us around another bend.

I leaned forward shakily and reached underneath the seat, pulling a small open shoebox with a row of cassettes filling the entire thing.

“The red one is good.”

It was the first time I had handled a cassette, but I pulled the red, plastic rectangle out of the box and held it out in my hand, staring at the brown tape that ran across the top. The front of the cassette had a sticker with lines on it, but it was otherwise unmarked.

“How do I do it?”

“Just shove it in.”

I looked again at the cassette and then to the cassette player, and it was obvious that there was only way that it would fit. I eased it into the slot and pressed gently before it suddenly jumped inside with a snap.

Nothing happened for a second or two, but then a loud, heavy beat with futuristic undertones cranked through the speakers, adding to the soundtrack of Mason shifting gears and the engine screaming as we bolted forward.

It was fucking wild.

When we were halfway down the Bluff, the Corvette that had been lined up beside us tried to pass us on the inside, and Mason was driving incredibly close to the edge of the road in order to avoid a collision. That’s when I realized just how dangerous the sprint was. I looked out over the edge as I held on for my life, and I could see the lights of hundreds of houses shining down below and the sparkle of tiny cars, families, friends and neighbors, moving along at a fraction of the speed that we were.

Mason shifted gears, and The Beast thundered, pulling us ahead of the Corvette, then Mason whipped us in front of him so we were further from the edge of the cliff and making it harder for the other guy to pass.

I wasn’t even sure what position we were in at the point. I knew that Mason had passed several cars, but I was so scared that I hadn’t paid attention to who or how many.

A minute later, we reached the bottom of The Bluff, and the tires squealed as we skidded onto the paved street below. We were on the main road, and directly in front of us was a long straightaway. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself, feeling like I could relax a little knowing then that we weren’t going to fall off and explode into a million pieces..

That feeling of ease was short lived as Mason accelerated, whizzing down the straight strip of street even faster than we had driven down the Bluff. We were going so fast that it felt like a rollercoaster, and my stomach was doing somersaults.

“There’s your friends,” Mason yelled over the engine and music.

“What?” I asked.

“Your friends.” He tilted his head towards a light blue El Camino about a hundred yards in front of us and grinned sarcastically. “Kyle, Johnny.”

I rolled my eyes then went back to gripping onto the seat for my life.

“Relax,” Mason said. He reached for the volume of the cassette player and turned the volume knob all the way up, causing it to pulse all through the cabin.

“More human than human! More human than human!” the music wailed.

What I was going through definitely felt inhuman.

“This is what racing is all about!” he yelled.

His hand moved from the cassette player and then down on top of my mine. For a moment, I was a bit shocked by his sudden touch, and then all I could feel was tingles creeping all up and down my body. I’m sure he was just trying to comfort me from the incredible rush that I was experiencing—and it worked, because I immediately started to feel relaxed—but I couldn’t help but focus on how warm, large and masculine his hands were and couldn’t help but wish that the gesture meant something more.

But I wasn’t going to fool myself. I knew he was just taking care of me.

“What do you think we should do about those guys?”

“What?” I asked.

“The El Camino… What should we do?”

“Overtake ‘em, I guess?” I shook my head, unsure exactly what he meant.

“What?! I want to hear you say it louder.”

“Take ‘em,” I said again, a little louder.

“Come on… You can do better than that, Layla. Say it like you mean it.”

“Take em!” I shouted.

In a blur of motion, Mason lifted my hand and placed it on the smooth, round knob of his stick shift, and wrapped his hand firmly on top of mine. He jammed his foot on the clutch, used my hand to shift the gears, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

The vibration of the engine roaring and the feeling of Mason’s hand, the feeling over the pulses coursing up the gear stick, the feeling of how easily he controlled such an incredibly powerful machine—it surged through my body like an orgasm, at least what I imagined an orgasm felt like.

Whatever it was, it felt incredible.

The Beast was too much for the El Camino to handle, and within seconds we were pulling up beside the two assholes Amanda and I met earlier, frustration in their eyes as they turned their heads to watch us pass in the wrong lane of the two land road.

Mason swerved the car back into the right lane and howled, “Woooooo!”

I couldn’t help but grin. Despite how scary it all was, I was having a great time.

“One more and we got this,” Mason said, eyeing a tiny, white sports car that was about a quarter mile ahead. I figured that it was a small Ferrari of some sort at the time, but I’d later learn that it was a Lotus.

We continued speeding down the road, Mason never taking his foot off the gas, and eventually we were right on the tail of the Lotus. When he was close enough to pass, he switched to the left lane again and pulled up right beside the other car. The Lotus was fast, and seemed to gain a burst of speed when we were driving right beside him. He was giving The Beast a run for its money, but the Beast was still just a little bit faster.

Inch by inch, we slowly etched further ahead of the Lotus until we were just about a car length ahead.

A sudden glimmer of metal caught the reflection of our headlights, and I realized that a car was heading in our opposite direction, just a few feet from slamming into us head on.

“Mason!” I screamed and jerked my hand off of the stick shift, bracing myself for impact.

The car honked its horn, and Mason gripped the wheel with both hands, swerving us back into the right lane so hard that my shoulder slammed in the car door, and it felt like the car was going to flip over. We missed both the incoming car and the Lotus by mere inches. I have no idea how he stopped himself from slamming on his breaks, but if he had, we definitely would have hit one of the other cars or maybe both.

“Fuck!” Mason huffed as he regained control. “Are you okay?

“Yeah, I think so,” I whined.

“That guy didn’t have his headlights on.” Mason shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…” I muttered.

“No.” Mason reached over and grabbed my hand again squeezing it with purpose. “I’m really sorry. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I sat there for a few seconds not saying anything as I tried to get composed, and again found myself focusing on Mason’s hand. The sound of the cassette player hissed white noise a couple of seconds, then the music in the car switched over to a new tune. I recognized it right away as Motley Crue’s Kickstart My Heart.

“I love this song,” I said.

Mason glanced over to me, grinned, and raised his eyebrows.

He released my hand and gripped the wheel as he whipped the car into the unpaved road that led back up to the Bluff and started hauling his way towards the top. The speed, the power, the music, the fact that we were winning. It all brought a huge smile to my face and I didn’t really feel as scared as I had moments ago. I practically forgot about the near accident.

“Do you feel it?” Mason asked.

“Feel what?”

“Go ahead and let it out.”

I shook my head a little and gave him a questioning glance.

“Roll down your window and let it out.”

It was like he knew me better than myself, and as soon as he told me to do that, I somehow felt like I knew exactly what I needed to do. I turned the knob that rolled the window down in his car and the cool air flooded inside, causing my hair to dance around wildly.

“Yesssssss!” I screamed loudly.

Mason smiled again and rolled his window down as well. He stuck a hand out the window and patted the top of The Beast from the outside, causing a clunking sound to go with the music. “Woooo!” he yelled.

I matched him and stuck my hand out as well. “Woooo!”

He yelled out the lyrics to the chorus, “Kickstart my heart—”

“—Give it a start!” I finished.

We climbed up the buff with our hands out the window singing and yelling like two crazy people the whole rest of the way.

I can’t really explain why, but everything felt so right in that moment. It had been the craziest night of my life, but it felt so good, like I was meant to be there, like I had finally found my place in world, like I had been taken out of my shell and finally released into the wild.