That is All I Ask For: Chapter 5: The Race with Dante
The morning of the mock race
dawned with an edge of tension that everyone could feel. Even the air seemed
taut, vibrating with silent anticipation. Micah arrived early, earlier than
usual. The sun had only begun its lazy rise, casting faint golden streaks
across the still-damp asphalt.
He leaned against his car, arms
folded, expression unreadable. Today, he would race Dante. And he couldn't
afford to mess this up.
Not because he wanted to win.
But because he couldn't win.
He couldn't afford to be too
good, not yet. His strategy was clear: stay close, push just enough, but never
overtake. This wasn't about speed. It was about perception. He needed Dante to
see potential, not perfection.
The rest of the team arrived
gradually. Meredith caught his eye and gave a subtle nod. He nodded back. No
words were needed. She understood the stakes.
Juno clapped his hands once.
"Alright! Mock race today. Daniel, you're observing. Silas, you're
monitoring timings and performance. No exceptions."
Dante was calm, as usual, but
Micah noticed how his eyes lingered on him longer than they used to. There was
something deeper in those glances now—curiosity, maybe even concern.
"Micah." Dante said,
approaching with his helmet in hand. "This isn't about winning. Not today.
It's about synergy. Show me how you think."
Micah nodded. "Got it."
They suited up, buckled in, and
rolled their cars to the starting line. Two beasts at rest. Two storms waiting
to be unleashed.
The starting lights blinked red.
Micah glanced over at Dante, who
was focused, serene. He swallowed hard. Let the act begin.
The lights turned green.
Both cars surged forward like
bullets. Tires screamed. Engines roared. The wind slapped against Micah's
helmet as he stayed side by side with Dante for the first few seconds.
Then, gradually, he eased back. A
car length. Two.
He made it look real—like his
engine had just slightly underperformed. He let Dante take the lead but never
let him disappear.
They took the first corner in
harmony. Micah kept his turns sharp but not too aggressive. No tail-sliding. No
late braking. He handled the car like an honors student would—safe, technical,
correct.
On the straight, he accelerated
just enough to catch up slightly, then held.
You're just a promising driver,
he told himself. Not a prodigy. Not yet.
But as they completed the first
lap, he saw something surprising. Dante glanced at him through the rearview
mirror—and smiled.
A small, knowing smile.
Micah's chest tightened.
Did Dante know?
Lap two began with Dante picking
up speed, testing Micah's reflexes. Micah followed, matching pace expertly. The
corners came quicker, and he felt the G-force tug at his limbs. The rhythm of
the road was intoxicating.
But he remembered Meredith's
voice: Don't let it slip. Not yet.
He backed off a little.
Juno, watching from the control
center, leaned toward Silas. "He's not using his full throttle."
"I noticed." Silas
replied. "But he's fluid. That's not a beginner's flow."
Daniel stood with arms folded,
watching the track. "He's saving something."
Dante noticed too. The way Micah
took corners, how he controlled the wheel without ever correcting. It was...
too clean.
On the third lap, Dante slowed a
little, allowing Micah to come closer.
Micah didn't hesitate. He slipped
into the pocket behind Dante, maintaining distance but letting it look like he
was preparing to overtake.
Dante accelerated again, forcing
Micah to push—but only to 80%.
The fourth lap, the most
technical, with chicanes and S-turns, arrived.
Micah drove perfectly textbook.
Where he could've drifted, he braked. Where he could've cut corners, he stayed
wide.
It was the kind of driving that
would make any instructor proud. Safe. Reliable. Unremarkable.
But for someone with Micah's true
ability, it was like drawing with one hand tied.
They finished the lap with Dante
still ahead. Only one lap remained.
Micah could feel the tension in
his muscles. He wanted to break free. To drive. To show.
But he remembered Astral.
He remembered what it would mean
if Dante or Daniel found out too soon.
The fifth lap began.
This time, Dante let Micah catch
up.
It wasn't an accident.
He wanted to test him. And Micah
knew it.
So Micah played his part. He
pretended to go for an overtake, then hesitated at the last second. Just enough
to appear uncertain.
It was agonizing.
The car wanted to fly. His
instincts screamed at him to go. But he gritted his teeth, pulled back, and let
Dante cross the finish line half a second ahead.
The crowd watching—Juno, Silas,
Daniel, Meredith—erupted into applause.
Dante parked first, pulling off
his helmet and waiting.
Micah stepped out of the car and
rolled his shoulders.
"That," Dante said,
walking toward him, "was clean."
Micah gave a smile, slightly
breathless. "I tried."
"You didn't try."
Daniel said, walking over. "You delivered. Your control is flawless."
Juno added, "Still holding
back, though. I can feel it."
Meredith quickly spoke.
"He's still adjusting. This was his first real pressure test. Give him
time."
Micah shot her a grateful look.
Dante looked thoughtful.
"Your instincts are sharp, Micah. You react before you think. That's
something you can't teach."
Micah shrugged. "I just
listen to the car."
"Good." Dante said.
"Because next time, you're not holding back."
Micah blinked. "What?"
"Next time." Dante
repeated, "I want you to race like your life depends on it. No more
holding back. I want to see you."
Meredith stepped in. "Let's
not push him too hard. He just got comfortable."
"I'm not pushing."
Dante replied gently. "I'm inviting. There's a difference."
Micah gave a shaky smile.
"I'll think about it."
Later, while the team dispersed,
Micah sat by his car, legs stretched out in the shade. Meredith joined him with
a bottle of water.
"That was impressive."
She said.
"It was torture." He
muttered. "I wanted to overtake him on every lap."
"You didn't. That means you
have control."
He looked at her. "You think
he knows?"
She sighed. "He suspects.
But he doesn't know. Yet."
"How long do I keep this
up?"
"Until you're ready."
she said.
Micah closed his eyes. The sound
of tires still echoed in his mind.
He wasn't sure what scared him
more: the idea of losing Dante... or the idea of Dante seeing who he truly was.
The cars had stopped. But the
real race had just begun.
As the track emptied, and the
team packed up, Dante remained on the sidelines. He stood alone, watching the
marks left by the tires, as though reading a code.
Daniel approached him. "He
impressed you, didn't he?"
Dante didn't answer right away.
Finally, he said, "He drove like someone used to more power than he's
letting on."
Daniel frowned. "You think
he's hiding his skill?"
"I think he's hiding
himself." Dante said. "And I don't know if it's because he's scared
or protecting something."
Daniel patted his shoulder.
"Whatever it is, we'll find out. One lap at a time."
Dante nodded slowly. "Yeah.
One lap at a time."
Far behind the garages, Micah sat
inside his car again. Helmet in his lap. Eyes on the dashboard.
He didn't start the engine.
He just sat there. Listening.
Breathing. Waiting.
Tomorrow, the world would expect
him to be the person they saw today.
But deep down, he knew that
version of himself wouldn't last forever.
Not when Dante was starting to
see through the cracks.
Comments
Post a Comment