“Chicken. It’s easy. All you gotta do is not flinch when the time comes.”

“Just don’t flinch? Right. Except that we’re in cars going 50 miles per hour straight at each other.”

Cameron was cool. “Right. No big deal. Whoever swerves to avoid crashing is the loser.”

“Right.” Kip’s hands were sweating. His mouth was dry. “So what happens if neither of us swerves?”

“Ha! Never happens. Okay…. I’ve never seen it, but I heard of one once. They said it was grisley. Two body bags. But they were crispy. Too far from the city. No cops. No EMTs. No way to stop the fire.” Cameron was straight faced. Then, he grinned. “But that won’t happen to us. You’ll swerve. Bwack. Bwack.”

“I’m not chicken!”

“Whatever you say, Kip. Whatever you say.”

Kip got into his car. It was a beater. And old sedan. Everybody called it the Boat. And everybody knew Kip was chicken. He walked away from every fight. People thought that he would walk away from Chicken too. But here he was. He tried to swallow, but there was no saliva in his mouth.

Kip watched as Cameron got into his old muscle car. It had a bit of rust here and there, but the engine sounded top notch. Kip figured Cameron would flinch. He loved his car too much. But Kip did not know whether Cameron loved it more than he loved picking on Kip.

The two drivers started their engines and put them into gear. They turned and went a quarter mile in opposite directions from each other. It was broad daylight, but they both had their headlights on. It would be easier to see when they were getting close. And it would help them judge speeds.

Somebody in the middle of the road dropped her arm, then rushed off the road. It was an old dirt road, so when Kip hit the gas, he spun his tires and saw a cloud of dust behind him in the rear view mirror. He saw a similar plume of dust half a mile in front of him.

Kip gripped his steering wheel hard. He was, as they say, white knuckling it. He was leaning forward not paying attention to his speed. He was watching Cameron’s car get bigger in his windshield. He was getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Kip saw Cameron’s face, and he knew.

Cameron’s mouth had been opened wide. Probably saying some profanity that Kiep would never hear. Kip saw Cameron’s car spin out after he swerved to avoid the collision. The last thing Kip saw in the rear view mirror was Cameron standing by his open door. The dust cloud following Kip swallowed up the view. Kip kept on driving.

[Author’s note: Do NOT try this at home. Street racing and chicken are dangerous and I would not want people to think that a story like this condones either.]