Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
“They did?” Why hadn’t I heard about this?
“They went on one of the rallies with Gene that first year.”
“A rally? Not a race?”
She nodded, her smile growing as she spoke. “The way she described it made it sound like a blast. Basically, it was this hilarious scavenger hunt through New England. Just driving around like tourists and stopping for funny photos and activities.”
“That sounds more my speed.” Why hadn’t Mom wanted to go on a rally?
“We should do one together.” She was using that Wonder Woman grip of hers on my arm again. “August, we have to do it. With your big brain and my ability to talk my way out of tickets and into free desserts, we’d be unstoppable.”
I arched a skeptical brow. “How many tickets are we talking about here?”
“I can’t remember. That’s how many.” She rolled her eyes at me. “The next big rally is in March, so we’d need to borrow someone’s van or…Wade’s friend has a 1984 Crown Vic station wagon he wanted to sell. I could make that work.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t scoop that up when the team was looking for a car.” Thankful, but surprised.
She took out her cell phone and started texting. “I’m betting it costs a lot more than five hundred dollars.”
Was she buying our “rally car” right now? “Let’s get through this race first. If I survive it and I’m still here, we’ll do the rally. Deal?”
She looked up and stared holes through me, obviously trying to do some manifesting of her own. “You will survive and you’ll still be here. We’re doing it.”
I hadn’t meant to upset her. To be honest, I hadn’t liked saying it either. If I’m still here. “I guess we can’t let Phoebe and Morgan have all the fun, can we?”
Her lips curved. “No, we can’t.”
Phew. “Okay. Do you have any pointers before we go-kart our way into glory?”
She rubbed her hands together. “I do. I brought you here because I wanted you to get a feel for racing in a fun environment, to get used to the rhythm of the sharp turns and straightaways.”
“The rhythm?”
“You’ll think you have to take the turns fast, but if you do, you can drift or spin and it will slow you down when it’s time for you to speed up. There is a rhythm. Today, we need to find yours.”
“I’ve never had your rhythm.”
“Very few people do.” She sent me a wink. “You’ll get your own.”
“Any other hints before we get out there?”
“Yes. There are two teenage boys over there who are going to be in our batch and show you, by example, all the wrong things to do.”
“How do you know?”
“They’re teenage boys, and I recognize their body language. Just watch me, watch your turning, and stay away from them.”
Adrenaline raced through my veins when the stone-faced man led us to our karts and buckled me in. When the engine started, my hands were shaking, my butt was vibrating, and my head was sweating in the sock that went on under my helmet.
Oddly enough, I suddenly wasn’t afraid at all.
It was go-karts. Who could ever be afraid of go-karts?
It was me. I was the one that could be afraid of them. And my rhythm was more in line with Myrtle the Turtle’s. No wonder I loved that car.
An hour and a half later, I was turning into our neighborhood, my body still humming from my thirty-minute racing fail.
“You were fine,” Bernie assured me for the tenth time. “You were thinking too much, and I knew those kids would be little assholes. But you started getting it there at the end.”
I glanced over at her in disbelief. “How do you know? You were too busy trying to break the sound barrier. Seriously, you’re amazing Bernie. They were intimidated by you. I was driving like an old lady who didn’t know what she was doing.”
“But you had fun?”
“I did.” I stunk up that track with my lack of skill, and I’d had to pull in for equipment checks twice after my wheels went off the track, but it was exhilarating, and I’d enjoyed myself more than I had in a long time. “I had so much fun.”
“Good. Now we’ve got a baseline, and on Friday we can go to the track that’s only fifteen minutes from here and try it again. After that? We’ll graduate to real cars.”
“Wait a minute. There’s a go-kart track fifteen minutes from here?”
“Don’t be mad about the drive. You needed to see that track, so you’d know what you were getting into before the meeting. Now you do. Why is there a moving truck in your driveway?”
“What?” I parked at my curb and got out of the car, staring at the truck in confused consternation until I saw the men beside it.
Then my confusion left my consternation in the dust.