Listening to the growl of racing engine from the local speedway makes my head hurt. not because it's loud. because it;'s a sound I've grown so used to. It became such a part of my world, of who I am, last summer that I always felt more alive, more energized whenever I heard the sound, even if it was just the rumble of some over-torqued street racer revving his motor up and down Route 19. It was a sound that seemed to vibrate in perfect time to the beat of my pulse, as if it was part of me, part of the life force that drove me.
That was last year. Before Chance chose to change things forever. now, hearing that sound, all I will ever think about is Chance. Listening to the rumble like thunder building and fading, i wonder how I will ever have the nerve to get behind the wheel again. And yet how ca I not drive? For the past three summers, it's been all I've done, all I've ever wanted to do. How can I not race? And yet how can I race-- and risk what happened to Chance happening to me?
