Page 40 of Revv

Sayshen lets out a tired laugh. “Shit, least I'm alive.”

I push harder on the next lap.

Reign is still ahead, but not by much now. I can see him through the final sequence, clean and controlled, never wasting movement.

It’s irritating.

I brake later into the first corner and gain time through the middle, keeping the bike tighter than before. The rear slides slightly on the exit, but I stay on it and carry the speed down the straight.

“Getting close.”

Reign answers before Andre can. “Still behind.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

I catch Reign three laps later.

Not enough to pass him, but enough to stay on him through the technical section. He doesn’t make a mistake. Doesn’t rush. Just holds the line and makes me work for every inch.

“Move,” I tell him.

“No.”

“Thought I’d ask.”

“Try passing.”

Andre cuts in. “Do not turn this into a race St. Clair.”

“It is literally timed, and there is a reward for the fastest time, Coach. You made it a race,” I say.

“That doesn’t mean take each other out.”

Reign stays smooth through the next corner, but I get a better exit and pull beside him down the straight.

For half a second, we’re even.

Then he brakes later.

The asshole holds it, tips in, and takes the corner clean.

I have to fall back behind him.

His laugh comes through the comms.

“Not enough.”

“Next lap.”

“Sure.”

I try again.

And again.

By lap seventeen, my arms are starting to feel it. Not enough to slow me down, but enough that every mistake costs more. Sweat collects at the base of my neck, and my breathing is louder inside the helmet.

“Three laps left,” Echo says through the comms. “Stop riding Reign’s ass and focus on your fucking line.”