SAVANNA (VERONICA)
“Don’t ruin my car, it’s— Agh!” The guy beside me couldn’t finish his words when the signal dropped and when it did, I didn’t hesitate.
Most people wasted their time on deciding whether they were ready or not.
For them— Racing wasn’t for the weak, eh.
My foot pressed down on the gas with a calculated force, and the car responded with a violent jolt that pushed both me and the guy back into our seats.
The engine groaned, then the car shot forward, tires gripping the asphalt unevenly at first before settling into a smoother, faster rhythm.
Around us, the noise of the crowd exploded almost instantly, disbelief rippling through the spectators as they tried to process what they were seeing.
“Yo—what the hell?!”
“She actually went for it—!”
“That’s a damn Mustang, man!
Racing with it against Lamborghini?
She must be crazy!”
“Dude, I’m more surprised that she can actually drive!”— Their voices blurred together into a chaotic wave of shock and amusement, but none of it reached me in any meaningful way.
My focus remained locked ahead, my hands steady on the wheel, my mind already mapping out the road— and beside me, the guy had gone stiff.
His earlier casual attitude had completely vanished, replaced by visible panic as his fingers dug into the edge of his seat.
He perhaps prepared himself to death.
My lips twitched.
What a fool, eh?
“Girl—listen to me,” he said, his voice shaking despite his effort to sound firm, “this ain’t normal.
Just give me my car back!—”
I didn’t respond to his foolish words.
He’d shut up anyway once he had the money…
Once thirty seconds up, Danny’s car launched.
Even without looking back, I knew.
The sound alone was enough— a deep, aggressive roar that sliced through the air with confidence, completely different from the growl of the old Mustang.
And once again, the deafening roar exploded…
For a while, the Mustang was in lead, unexpected to everyone.
I didn’t push it blindly, instead, I allowed it to build the momentum at its own pace yet under my control.
The crowd had turned silent now.
We’d moved past them.
The street was empty now.
But it didn’t last long.
Because Danny closed in.
My one eye was on the road and the other on the rearview mirror.
Lamborghini’s headlights grew larger with each passing second.
His approach was filled with confidence, and that only made me smile.
Then came the first turn.
A wide curve that a normal driver or a racer would approach with caution, but Savanna— never.
My grips adjusted on the wheel and my speed increased.
The tires screamed against the pavement, the entire body of the car shuddering under the pressure.
The cab driver let out a strangled cry.
“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” One hand instinctively reaching for the dashboard as if that would somehow save him.
“Why the fuck did I agree to this madness!”
But I had already exited the curve cleanly.
And then— Danny passed me.
His car swept past with effortless precision, the sound of his engine drowning out everything else as he took the lead.
From the brief glimpse I caught, his posture remained relaxed, one hand steady on the wheel, his expression almost bored.
Too confident, eh?
Beside me— “I knew you can’t keep up!
Danny’s got it in the bag!”
“F**k my dad would kill me!
Damn girl!
I’ll make you pay for this!”
He kept on nagging, irritating me.
For a moment I wanted to throw him out of the car, and perhaps I would if I was Savanna.
But for Veronica, she should keep low.
And that annoyance, I vented it out on the Mustang…
The next stretch opened wide, giving me exactly what I needed.
My fingers tightened slightly on the wheel, before I pressed harder.
The engine let out a strained, almost violent roar as the Mustang surged forward again, faster than it had any right to move.
The guy beside me looked like he was about to lose consciousness as he clung to the seat.
“Wha-at did you— fuck girl!” he cried out, his voice barely audible over the noise.
I didn’t answer.
Well, I never did.
Money would shut him up anyway…
I never stopped in any corners, nor paused.
My rhythm never broke.
While the guy beside, keeps on cursing.
And slowly— Very slowly, the distance between Lamborghini and Mustang began to shrink.
And soon, once again we came to the crowded part, where it all began.
At first, no one noticed.
The crowd was too caught up in celebrating what they thought was a guaranteed outcome.
But then—
“Wait—hold up…!” Someone shouted.
“Is she catching up?!”
“No way—that’s not possible—!”
The tone shifted again, confusion bleeding into disbelief as they watched the gap close.
The finish line came into view.
Danny was close.
Close enough that people had already started cheering his name.
But they didn’t see it, did they?
The last turn.
The sharpest one I had seen even before the race had started.
The most dangerous one, where any pro racer would slow down the car.
And Danny was just a kid.
Of course— he slowed.
Me?— Well, I didn’t.
Instead, I accelerated.
The Mustang shot forward into the turn at an angle that should have ended in disaster.
The tires screamed, the car tilting slightly as if it might lose balance entirely.
The guy beside me shouted something— but it didn’t matter.
I held it anyway.
Perfectly…
I was used to it, perhaps more than this.
And in that single moment— I overtook him, which decided the fate of the race.
For a brief second, everything went silent, and with that silence, I crossed the finish line.
Moving forward, I took a slight turn and stopped the car.
With a screech it paused holding a style.
Well, I’d never learned anything to do without style.
The engine was still humming beneath the hood as if unaware of what it had just accomplished.
The entire ground was silent.
Naturally, I fell into a disbelieving state.
Then— suddenly chaos erupted, making me frown.
Silence was quite good.
These people had no sense, eh…
“What the hell just happened?!”
“She beat him— she actually beat him!”
“With an old Mustang?!
No way— no damn way!”
“Who the fuck is she!?”— The guy beside me, turned to me slowly, his face pale, his eyes wide in disbelief, looked like someone who was certain of death yet got out.
“You…
you just…” he started, but couldn’t finish.
His words faltered.
“Hmm— good news.
You got the money.” I muttered calmly, before reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a piece of paper, and a pen.
I handed it to him.
Write down your account number.
He stared at me in disbelief.
Shocked and confused.
My brow arched.
“Don’t want money?”
He blinked, returning to his senses and then with shaky hands, he wrote it.
Taking the paper, I tucked it in my pocket and tore another paper where I wrote my own account number and got out of the car.
The cool night air brushed against my skin as the noise of the crowd continued to rise around me.
Without acknowledging anyone, I walked toward Danny’s car, with unhurried steps.
I placed the paper on the hood of his car.
“My account number.
Send the money.” And turned to leave.
However, just as I was about to cross the entrance—
“Hey—!” A rushed voice came.
Pausing, I slowly turned back.
Seems, it was Danny.
He had stepped out of his car.
His earlier confidence was replaced by something far more intense.
There was disbelief in his expression, yes— but beneath it, there was something more.
Something like excitement and challenge.
I arched my brow.
What did this guy want now?
If he said he had no money, I was gonna take his car.
Thankfully for him, he didn’t.
Instead —
“You’re not just walking away after that,” he said, his tone steadier now, though still carrying the edge of shock.
“Race me again…”