Michael froze in shock as the crowd of race fans turned to face him.

"No, I've got better things to do this evening." He said bluntly.

Michelle came sprinting up between him and Amelia and dragged him aside.

"You can't just say no!" She hissed furiously.

"I can and I will. I didn't come here to race!" Michael grumbled.

"Yeah but if you get challenged like that, you just gotta race!"

"Well why should I?!"

"Because your rep, your street cred!"

"I don't race, so that doesn't matter." Michael said stubbornly.

"Uh hello? It's the cute redhead!" Michelle said with a mischievous smile.

"I don't have a chance with her..." Michael muttered.

"I'll race her if you don't..." Michelle said, her smile becoming a grin.

"Fine. If I wreck, you're fixing the damn car with me."

Michael wandered back into the crowd, Amelia standing in the clearing with her hands on her hips, her bandanna back in place.

"I changed my mind. Bring it on." Michael said sternly.

The crowd cheered and Amelia eyed him suspiciously.

"Oh I'm gonna destroy you..." She growled.

Michael stayed quiet and followed Amelia over to the Racing Authority van where Jeff sat watching some cameras on the various monitors. Amelia spoke confidently and loudly.

"I'm here to challenge AceRacer2097 to a race!"

"Alright, gimme your callsign."

"RWMotorsports!"

Jeff tapped away at a keyboard. He glanced at a monitor and seemed to suppress a laugh. He then turned to Michael.

"Hold up. A Dodge Challenger? That thing is gonna out accelerate and out brake you. Its PI rating is higher, stock for stock. That thing hasn't been scanned but it's at least high B class, maybe even mid A. That Mustang'd be mid C class if you're lucky. "

"It's not over money, I don't care if I lose, and I got a shorter wheelbase and less weight. Plus, Ford shits on Mopar as a company." Michael said confidently.

Amelia squirmed.

"FORD IS NOT- AND ITS A HELLCAT! GRRRRRR!" She growled.

      Anyways..." Jeff muttered, "The course we got setup is called a 'Duelcross' course, it goes up through that parking garage up there, it's an experimental thing that RA is trying out. The idea is to combine one on one Japanese style Touge racing with Autocross. Your helmets are gonna project randomly generated gates throughout that parking garage. You'll have to race your opponent through the gates up to the top of that parking garage. If you miss one of the gates, you get a time penalty, and you'll probably lose. Winner is the one with the fastest time, although you'll be on course at the same time, so you can try and force your opponent to miss a gate... it's more of a test of driving skill than car performance."

Michael shrugged. He hadn't really done this sort of driving, he was used to normal track-like courses like the canyon roads near home, and the circuit race he had experienced the previous night. But on the other hand, he was confident in his ability to adapt. He had beaten 6 opponents before, how hard could one be?

"You're bloody ON!" Amelia shouted.

"Alright, then, you two have been briefed, here are some helmets, you're on next."

*********

Amelia dashed over to her Challenger, a large, bulky, 2 door muscle car, with rounded headlights and small ducktail spoiler. It appeared mostly stock, and in good condition, save for surface rust and faded paint. Michael didn't particularly like the look of the car, he felt it was a bit over styled and large for his taste, but he did appreciate its rustic look and nice set of aftermarket wheels.

Michael calmly headed over to the Mustang and started it up, the familiar grumble of its engine calming his nerves.

You've done this before, it should be a piece of cake.

Michelle ran up to the driver's side window of the Foxbody, and Michael sighed and rolled it down.

"You know that Hellcat is a faster car than the Mustang, right?"

"Well, I'm probably a better driver."

"That's sexist."

"What? No-"

"I'm serious though, that thing is making 700+ horsepower."

"Seriously?!"

Michael's mind wandered to reading one of his father's old issues of Road and Track magazine when he was a freshman. The Hellcat was a high end version of an otherwise average 2010s muscle car, with the important distinction of having been fitted with a massive 6.2 liter supercharged V8 engine that put out just over 700 horsepower, nearly thrice that of his 90's Mustang.

Michael momentarily panicked. But then he remembered what the rest of the article had said. The Hellcat weighed well over 4,200 pounds, while his Mustang weighed about 3000. The article had also mentioned the Hellcat had so much power that it was difficult to control, and was sluggish to maneuver.

Plus, this particular Challenger seemed to be in a disheveled state.

He might stand a chance after all. Jeff had said the course was similar to autocross, which Michael remembered as being an obstacle course for cars from old tapes his father kept. Smaller, more agile cars, such as Miatas and Porsche Caymans dominated events like this.

Michael rolled up his window and slid his helmet on over his head, and the now familiar blue line appeared on the road in front of him, leading behind the strip mall and marking a stopping point in between two barrels in a parking lot, facing the massive parking garage, which was well lit from the inside. A crowd of spectators gathered around the area, parting to let Amelia's large green Challenger park next to the small primer Foxbody.

Michael realized he was quite nervous. Assuming he didn't lose immediately from the car disadvantage, and he led the race, who's to say Amelia couldn't learn his skills like the drones did?

However, Michael had no idea if Amelia was remotely competent behind the wheel. Why hadn't she mentioned that she had a car of her own, or raced?

He revved the Foxbody's engine, it growled loudly, and had a metallic resonance to its exhaust noise. Amelia's Hellcat revved in response, its engine a clear roar, thundering throughout the street.

Jeff ran in front of the two cars, and held his hands up in the air. The HUD in Michael's helmet flashed.

R E A D Y

3...

This is just for fun.

2...

It doesn't mean anything.

1....

BUT I WANT TO WIN!!

GO!!!

************