Still neck-and-neck, through half the course. Neither racer could gain an inch of ground, on the other. Jarod had been dominating the corners, but Vanessa's AWD gained back what she had lost, within moments of exiting each turn. Nearly dead-even power-to-weight ratios made sure that nobody had an advantage on anyone, in the straightaways.
It was quite possible, in both their minds, that this was the most intense race of either of their lives.
Jarod's scarred right hand smoothly and gently transitioned from steering wheel to shifter, time and again, as though he were running it along the curves of a beautiful woman. His driving style had always been like this... flawless and almost romantic, in an un-erotic way. He'd learned, long ago, to let the car do the thinking, and just feel what it was telling him to do.
The FC's every motion, translated into Jarod's mind, and his hands and feet simply did the bidding of his car, without a second thought. This was the strength of Jarod Wynde... h