Page 7 of Speed Crush

And while the whole town’s been involved over the last year—design review, volunteer crews, late-night paint sessions, kart testing shifts, safety walkthroughs, and even mock-emergency drills—seeing it actually finished, lit up, and ready for the Grand Opening in three days? That’s something else. We're all still a little awestruck.

And when they announced the youth go-kart camp as the first event after the Grand Opening, I was the first to volunteer.

I'm a middle school teacher which means I'm already used to wrangling chaos with a smile. I’m more than qualified to keep a bunch of high schoolers in line during winter break.

And with my experience as a mechanic working the weekends at my dad’s shop—Cedar Crest Customs, the best garage in town—I figured I might as well make myself useful out here too.

The town’s still interviewing for someone perfect to run this place full-time, but with school out, my schedule lines up perfectly to oversee the camp and help out—mechanically or otherwise—when the crowd shows up and the engines start roaring.

It’s the perfect mash-up of everything I love—helping kidsandhelping machines run their best.

And with the camp coming together fast, I'm not the only one jumping in. The townsfolk are all ready to help in any way they can to make Mega Max a success—donating supplies, organizing the snack station, helping with sign-ins, or just showing up to help with ticketing and thermoses of strong coffee.

Everyone’s pitching in however they can, and there’s something about that effort—the way Cedar Falls comes together—that makes this place feel even more like home.

My best friend, Scott Maddox—who’s shared the same lofty dream as the rest of the town from day one—will be helping too, of course. He’ll be here on his firehouse off-days, helping wrangle teens and pretending not to love it.

We’ve been best friends since kindergarten—same schools, same homerooms, same off-key love for karaoke nights at Timberline Keg, the local bar.

The whole town loves to tease that we’re the next Levi and Lily, but we’ve never been like that. Never will be. He’s family.

If Scott’s a golden retriever, I’m probably the leash—keeping him from getting too excited, too reckless, too... Scott. And knowing him, he’s probably only half here to help with the kids—he definitely swung by earlier tonight under the guise of a 'follow-up fire inspection.'

The building’s already passed every test and been cleared for opening, but being the protector he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows up during camp with his personal fire extinguisher. Just in case.

But the daily track prep? Making sure the karts are lined up and ready, checking safety harnesses, walking the course, keeping the teens from racing before they’re supposed to, and staying on standby in case a throttle sensor glitches or one of the brushless motors gets fussy—not likely with brand-new karts, but I’m not one to assume perfection. That’s mostly fallen to me. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m good at this.

I fit here. Quietly. Comfortably.

Even if the place is shinier than I’m used to. Even if the polished composite floors look too clean to trust with oil drips or boot scuffs. Even if the whole world is watching Cedar Falls now.

Especiallybecause they are.

I finish the last of my inspection, wiping my hands on the rag hanging from my pocket. There’s a smear of grease across my sleeve, and I don’t care. This hoodie’s been through worse.

Just one more double-check of the seatbelts and brakes before tomorrow’s camp schedule gets finalized. I’m stretching my back when I hear something—soft and breathy, echoing faintly from the far-left garage.

At first, I think it’s laughter.

But then it draws out. Slower. Heavier. Definitely not a laugh. And definitely not mechanical.

I peek—just enough to catch movement near the shelving racks. They're not exactly hidden.

I slap a hand over my face. This is not how I imagined tonight going.

I crouch lower instinctively, like I’ve been caught in a crime, even if it's not mine.

A couple is full-on hooking up in the corner of the world’s newest go-kart track.

Just tucked far enough back that they probably think they’re hidden—but I can see the curve of her bare thigh around his hip, the slow rock of movement, his fingers gripping the wall behind her. Every breathy moan lands like a slap of heat.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

And if I move too suddenly, they’ll definitely see me. I’ve never seen anything like it in person. And right now? I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or... burning up.

Do I sneak out and pray they don’t see me? Do I chuck a wrench in the opposite direction and hope it scares them off? Or do I crawl into the nearest tool cabinet and hope it swallows me whole?

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