Silent Expectations 2

An hour later, Ansel returned to the locker room, looking refreshed and ready for the race. He slung a towel over his shoulder as he dropped onto the bench beside Luca. "Guess who's got 7% of the votes to win today's race?" Ansel asked, raising a brow with a short smirk.

Luca didn't need to think hard to understand the implication. His lips twisted into a frown. "Me? 7% of the people here at George Park bet on me to win?"

"Yep, number 21," Ansel confirmed with a soft smile. "Aren't you happy you've got a portion of the crowd believing you'll cross the finish line first?"

The George Park Circuit holds about 85,000 spectators. Let's say 70,000 of them are eligible to place bets. That means almost 5,000 people think I'll win? What the....Screw whatever Mr. Grant said to the press earlier—I don't like this kind of pressure. "And what happens if I don't cross the line first? They lose all their money, right?"