Michael and Michelle slammed on the gas simultaneously. The Mustang growled, the S13 buzzed angrily, both cars fearlessly charging into the first turn at blistering speeds in pursuit of the mysterious supercar.

The Ferrari 458 Italia was an extremely fast and expensive sports car from the early 2010's. To find one outside of a museum and racing on the local mountain road was nothing short of a miracle.

While Michael braked early and took the first corner traditionally, Michelle waited to the last possible microsecond, then flicked the steering and slammed on the brakes hard, causing the 180SX to slide out wide in a masterful drift, spitting flames from its big bore exhaust as its tiny 2.0 liter turbocharged engine bounced off its redline. Michelle maintained a slightly higher speed mid corner, but Michael caught up with a quicker corner exit speed.

They drifted side by side around the next hairpin, the Mustang taking the inside line, nearly tapping the 180SX with its rear bumper. Michael glanced out his passenger window. He could see the Ferrari a few corners below, its LED headlights casting a bluish glow on to the crisp asphalt.

They sped into the next section, the 180SX pulling away on the straight thanks to its better power-to-weight ratio, but loosing most the time it gained in the next braking zone compared to the Mustang as it drifted through the long sweeping corner instead of taking it traditionally.

Michael ducked the Mustang behind the 180SX as they entered the tunnel. Using the slipstream from the air resistance of the S13 to reduce the drag on his Mustang allowed him to close the gap between them down the short straight, a technique known as drafting.

Michael began to see the Ferrari change from blurry flashes of taillights seen through the mist of twilight air into clear red orbs easily visible, which meant their overall pace was faster than the Ferrari. They were gaining on it.

The Ferrari was only a turn ahead now. Michelle had begun to get excited, Michael could see it in her driving style. Her racing line was all over the place, her drifts wider and her shifting sloppy. Michael remained indifferent, his steering smooth and his shifting effortless.

A few more corners passed in a blur of sharp concentration. They were on the same straight as their mysterious opponent now, having gained on them through fast cornering. Michael could now analyze what the Ferrari was doing.

The red supercar would pull away a little bit on every straight, having a 560 horsepower engine that was nearly twice as powerful as the Mustang's. The Ferrari's tires had tremendous traction, and its body was light weight — yet, somehow, it was significantly slower in the turns.

Michael realized this meant the driver was inexperienced with the car on this particular road. He or she was braking too early, and not going full throttle out of the turns. The driver was competent, but afraid of losing control of the car on an unfamiliar road.

Michael charged into the next few turns with a renewed vigor. He couldn't understand why, but he suddenly wanted to pass this mysterious adversary, to... win.

Soon, the S13 was close enough to crash into the Ferrari, trailing closely by the Mustang. Michael immediately noticed Michelle moved her car to the inside line, going for the pass on the Ferrari into the next turn, but as the cars slowed to make the turn, the Ferrari moved to block the inside line.

The three cars flew through the turn, and in the next corner, Michelle tried again. Without missing a beat the Ferrari deftly swerved to cover the opening to pass.

"Dammit! Get out of my way!" Michael heard Michelle scream from his watch.

Michael's thoughts raced as he quickly came up with a plan.

"Sis, move to his outside line for next few hairpins. Don't argue, just trust me!" Michael commanded gruffly into his watch.

"Why would I — I'm trying to get past him!" Michelle retorted.

"We can both get past him if we work together!"

Michael and Michelle drifted in tandem around the first two of the hairpin turns, their drift enveloping the turn with tire smoke, mirroring each other like dance partners. The Ferrari was much slower through this section, and Michelle's 180SX was inches away from tapping its rear bumper.

Michael pushed the Mustang as hard as he could. He came out of the next two turns equal with Michelle, racing side by side with her. He could see the twin round tail lights of the Ferrari entice him, he wanted, no, needed to catch them. They came out of the hairpins, and onto a long straight. Sure enough, Michelle moved towards the outside line like she was told.

Michael watched the Ferrari move to block Michelle. He positioned the Mustang to pass by braking late from the inside line, but the Ferrari suddenly swerved to block the Mustang and thereby forced Michael to slam hard on the brakes, briefly locking them up, before barely slowing for the corner, nearly crashing into Michelle's S13 in the process.

Time seemed to slow down for Michael as the Ferrari pulled away effortlessly​. On the next straight, Michael saw the reflection of the Mustang's headlights in its rear bumper as the distance between the cars grew.

He was reminded that every car had a blind spot in its mirrors, and that no driver was really able to see completely behind them. If only he could find a way to hide his Mustang in the blind spot on the way into a turn...

Headlights! Of course! The driver of the Ferrari most likely could only see them because of his Mustang's massive oval headlights... Immediately, a very risky idea fired through Michael's mind.

He took a deep breath and switched off the Mustang's headlights.

Now relying only on the combined light from the Ferrari and the S13 to see the apex of the next corner, Michael moved the Foxbody towards the inside line of the next hairpin.

The Ferrari moved to block the Nissan, and hit the brakes early. Michelle swerved to avoid it on the outside line, going for a pass... leaving the inside line wide open... Michael delayed braking as long as possible, pulled the hand brake to induce a drift, jerked the steering and applied throttle. The Mustang slid gracefully, passing the 180SX under braking and drifting millimeters away from the Ferrari, its rear bumper practically touching the 458's passenger door, and pulled ahead on the corner exit. Michael switched the headlights back on, just as Michelle used the Ferrari driver's shock and distraction to follow him through the opening.

They had both just beaten a Ferrari through sheer skill alone, in spite of their cars' performance, not because of it.

Michael watched the Ferrari's lights fade into the background of his rear view mirror as its driver seemed to give up and slow down. Michelle pulled her S13 alongside him.

It took Michael a few moments to realize how fast his heart was beating.

But now the thrill had ended, the race was over. He was back to being a normal guy with an unusual hobby. With that in mind, Michael decided to pull the car over in the empty lot by the end of the road to calm down. He left his Mustang idling and stepped out, pacing about to stretch his legs. Michelle's 180SX pulled in shortly after, parking across from the Mustang. Michelle stepped out and whooped happily, her eyes beaming with pride, pumping her fist in the air.

"WE WON OUR FIRST STREET RACE!" She shouted giddily.

Michael tiredly ran a hand across his face. "Well, I don't think he was racing us..."

Of course, Michelle was not going to accept that. Her voice still triumphantly high, she exclaimed: "He was TOTALLY racing us! You saw how he was blocking us! And we kicked his a-"

"Well, technically, I won the race, because I passed you both..." Michael beat her to it.

"NO! It was a team effort!" Michelle's tone was the auditory equivalent to a stubborn child stomping his feet with his tongue stuck out.

Michael sighed, allowing a small smile to spread across his face.

The raspy song of the Ferrari's engine filled the air. It had finally caught up to them. Michael watched its glowing LED headlights peek their way around the corner, capturing him like a blinded deer. The car then screamed past at full tilt, echoing its engine's song into the night.

"Wow, rude, didn't even stop to say hi..." Michelle moaned in disappointment.

"I think we got in his way," Michael said.

His sister was nowhere close to even trying to hold back her euphoria. "DUDE! We just beat a Ferrari! We could sign up for Racing Authority and go racing! We should totally do it! We could be real street racers!" She sounded as if she would start bouncing up and down with excitement every minute now. Even her cheeks flushed.

"Michelle... I don't really think dad would let us do that," Michael carefully intervened.

Michelle wiped his comment away with a fugitive gesture. "Whatever... we're 16, practically adults, and he said the cars are ours... we can totally do it!"

"Look- I don't know... let's head home. I don't think it's a very good idea. Besides, we have no idea who that guy was... that car could've been stolen or something..." Now that he said it out loud, Michael's thoughts drifted off, revolving around all the questions that began to form in his head.

Michelle threw her hands up in a disbelieving gesture, showing she was giving in. For the moment. "You're so boring, did ya know that?"

Michael sighed, got back in the Mustang, and started the drive home.

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