The first part of April passed, cold and windy. There was rain, sometimes light and sometimes heavy, and even more than would normally be expected that month. That cut into riding on the ATV and the kart, but Will and Telzey got the work on the 89 car done ahead of schedule. That just made the days drag worse for Telzey.

More than a little to her surprise, her grandparents were just fine with the idea of her racing the training car in the Powder Puff race. It was only when she stopped to think about it that she realized that they knew what she had been doing and who she had been doing it with. If they hadn’t, even driving the ATV or the kart, much less Mel’s car or the training car wouldn’t have even been offered to her. There was communication going on between the Austins and her grandparents that she hadn’t been aware of, and it was likely that it was still going on.

But while her grandparents didn’t say no, they didn’t say yes, either. They decided that under the circumstances the question ought to be referred to Telzey’s parents. Since neither had called in a few days, an e-mail was sent to both of them. Each day dragged as it went by with no word from them.

The lack of word from her parents really didn’t surprise Telzey all that much. Things were very busy in the Persian Gulf right then; the war was reaching a peak. Telzey still checked out the war news on TV every day, and she agreed with the commentators that things seemed to be going really, really well. More and more it seemed like the war might be over in a hurry and that her parents might be back home before long – maybe before she had to go back to school in the fall, maybe even sooner.

Over a week went by before she heard from them, and despite the realization that they had to be busy, Telzey was on pins and needles waiting for word. Finally, her mother called one evening; in only moments Telzey was on the phone with her grandparents on extensions. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner,” her mother said. “I thought that I ought to ask your father about how he felt about you racing with the Austins, We’re not stationed at the same place, and it’s been hard for us to get together since we’ve been so busy. Sometimes a week or more goes by, but I managed to see him for an hour or so this afternoon.”

By now Telzey was so anxious that she could barely stand it, but she tried to keep calm as she asked, “So what did he say, Mom?”

“He doesn’t know the Austins like I do,” her mother told her calmly. “He has his doubts, but I told him that there were a lot more dangerous things you could be doing than messing around in race cars with them, and he thought that I ought to know better than he does. So as far as we’re concerned, have fun racing, be careful, and good luck.”

“Thanks, Mom!” she replied, her excitement bursting to the surface. “I really want to do this and I think I can do just fine. I’ll do my best to be careful and not let you down.”

“I just wish I could be there to watch,” her mother said. “Like I said, there are a lot worse things you could be doing and a lot worse people you could be hanging out with. You’re not the kind of kid who gets into trouble, and I can’t imagine your finding friends who would be trouble and getting you caught up in it. Remember, I’ve known the Austins most of my life and they’re not that kind of people.”

They talked for a while after that. Sheila confirmed that they were very, very busy what with everything going on, and she was sorry she hadn’t had the time to call home or e-mail more often, but both she and her father were fine and what fighting there had been was far away. “If we hadn’t been so busy we’d be really bored,” her mother said. “I don’t think it’s going to go on at this pace a whole lot longer, though.”

Within seconds of the phone call ending, Telzey was out the door and heading next door to the Austins’. She burst through the door, yelling, “They said yes! I can race it!”

“Well, good deal,” Ray smiled. He knew Sheila, and had been expecting a positive response, but Telzey’s father had been a possible fly in the ointment, and there was no telling what he might say. “That’s really good news. I’ll talk to Dad tomorrow, and we’ll see if we can get you some more seat time this weekend. We’re going to have to work on the car some to get it ready to race.”

*   *   *

Telzey didn’t see Kayla until lunchtime the next day – it was macaroni and cheese with green beans and a peanut butter sandwich, which still wasn’t very appetizing but at least it was better than the pizza that was served so often. Needless to say, Telzey was still excited by the news and her enthusiasm soon infected Kayla. “That is so neat!” Kayla smiled. “I know Will has been racing for years, but that’s what his family does, and now you’re in it, too.”

“It’s not really that big a deal,” Telzey said. “Really, it’s only a Powder Puff race, and it’s not that serious, but I’m really looking forward to it.”

“I’ve only been to the races there a couple of times,” Kayla told her. “It really doesn’t interest me that much. But I’ll see if I can’t be there to see your big debut. Maybe my folks would like to come, too.”

“What’s the big deal?” Carol Lynn asked as she was walking by.

“Oh, you wouldn’t care,” Kayla told her sworn enemy. “Telzey’s going to be racing a stock car out at the Speedway a week from Saturday.”

“You got that right, I could care less.” Carol Lynn sneered. “That might be a big deal to a grease monkey, but a civilized girl wouldn’t want to do something like that.”

“You couldn’t do anything like that anyway,” Telzey said pointedly. “You’d have to wear a fire suit, not a skirt that shows everything you’ve got to anyone who wants to look.”

“Like you’d ever wear a skirt anyway,” Carol Lynn snorted as she turned and walked away.

“Ohhhh, catty,” Kayla smiled. “I’d say that was at least an even exchange. She can be such a pain. She’s just jealous. And, if you want jealous, think of all the boys that are going to be jealous of what you get to do.”

“That’s true, I suppose,” Telzey smiled. “Boys are the ones that are always crazy about cars.”

“Are you going to be doing this all summer?”

“No, just this one race,” Telzey sighed. “I mean, they’re loaning me the car and it’s not a regular Street Stock, anyway. Its engine isn’t as big and it’s heavier than a regular Street Stock, so I wouldn’t stand much of a chance with it in a regular race. I don’t have a regular car to race, after all.”

“That’s a shame,” Kayla said. “I’ll bet you could be pretty good at it.”

“I’d like to think so,” Telzey nodded. “Maybe someday I’ll get to find out.”

*   *   *

With the opening day of the season only a week off, there was a lot of work to be done around the track to make sure that it looked as good as it could for the people showing up. Much of the grounds were covered with grass, and now that they were well into April and things were greening up, mowing all the grass around the track would be an ongoing project for most of the summer. It was made an even more major project by the fact that there were about thirty acres of grass to be mowed more or less regularly, around the parking areas, the overflow pits, and the rest of the grounds, to keep the appearance nice.

Telzey was right in the middle of the work. The track had an old Ford tractor with a large gang mower that would mow a swath almost twenty feet wide, and it did most of the cutting. There were a lot of places that a big rig like that couldn’t handle, and that was the job of a basic lawn tractor. Ray spent a few minutes teaching her how to run it – it wasn’t a big deal, but the controls were a little different. After that, she and Will had their work cut out for them. At first, she ran the lawn tractor while he ran the big rig, but after the first couple of times mowing they began to switch off, just so things wouldn’t be as boring.

Mel had the sweeper running, after a longer battle than he expected. It had to be run over much of the pavement to pick up the dust, dirt, and gravel that had accumulated over the course of the winter. The sweeper was used to clean up oil dry after a crash on the track, which caused oil or water to be spilled. “Almost any other track, they’d take a blower and blow it off into the infield,” Ray explained. “But here, with the infield wall up close to the track, we don’t have the room to do it, so we have to clean it up before we can race again.”

In the last few days before opening, everybody turned to getting the concession stands set up and stocked. The concessions were a major part of the track’s income, and they were a major amount of work, to boot. The workers were mostly from the high school athletic booster group, done as a fundraiser – in fact, it was the major source of the group’s funds. Fortunately the people had been doing the project for long enough that they knew what to do, but everything had to be set up and made ready for them. The track concessions served hot dogs, corn dogs, hamburgers, fries, popcorn, and a host of other things, and they’d sell a lot of it over the course of a race evening.

Along with everything else, Telzey got out with the trainer car several more times, sometimes with Mel, sometimes by herself. Mel tried to show her some of the other things that she should know to be in the race. Sometimes they were out on the track with Will in his Pony Stock to give her a car to try to pass, or to try to pass her, and although the speeds weren’t quite the same Will could adjust his speed to make the training seem realistic. That was a lot of fun, and after a few times Telzey felt like she was ready to go.

Will was also nice enough to let her drive his Pony Stock, the 89 car. It felt quite a bit different to drive than the heavy rear-wheel-drive trainer, lighter and more nimble. The Plymouth Sundance Pony Stock could actually lap the track a touch faster than the heavier trainer, which had more power but was slower through the corners and took a slightly different line to drive effectively.

What with everything, the days raced by – and they dragged by. The final week went so slowly that it seemed like Saturday would never get there. Telzey was complaining about that fact to Will and Kayla at lunch at school on Friday – pizza and corn again, there was no escaping it – and her anticipation knew no bounds.

“It’s just another race day, Telzey,” Will said knowingly, trying to get her to settle down. “It’ll be my third year, after all. It’s no big deal, for you or for anybody. It isn’t even a points race. Dad and Grandpa like to keep things casual on opening weekend, so people that have been working on their cars all winter can get things worked out before we get into real points racing.”

“It may be just another race day to you,” she replied, “but it’s my first time, and it’s a big deal to me. You’ve been there, you know what to expect.”

“I suppose,” Will nodded. “As far as that goes, I was just a little bit worked up the first time I raced the old car over at Moonshine Valley. They had me start in the back of the field, and I swear I tried to pass the whole pack in the first corner. I spun, and they had to restart the race. Before it was all over with, the leader had lapped me twice in eight laps. That car just wasn’t real fast.”

“Oh, wow!” Telzey shook her head. “I think I’d just die if that happened to me.”

“Not going to happen, not in that car, not with the amount of practice you’ve had, and not with the competition you’ll have,” Will snorted. “You might not win, but you’re not going to have anything to be ashamed of, either.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Telzey shook her head. “I mean, can I help it if I’m nervous about all this?”

“I suppose,” Kayla sighed. “Look, Rachel and I both get nervous before we have a race. Sometimes we both even throw up before we get started. Then once the race starts, everything is all right. All we have to do is concentrate on the running and let the winning take care of itself. Handling your nerves is just something that you have to learn how to do.”

“Look,” Will said, “you can do this. You know you can do it, you’ve practiced, and it’s not that hard for you. At the same time, it’s something that most of the people in this school couldn’t do. They don’t have the skills, the courage, or know what they’re doing. You do. That makes you special. I can’t imagine Ashley driving Chuck’s car in the Powder Puff. I mean, she’s got a driver’s license and all, where we don’t, but she still couldn’t do it, even if he would let her. I know from messing around out back with the ATV and the kart that you’re already a racer. She’s not and I can’t believe that she could ever be.”

“Well, yeah,” Telzey nodded, “I see what you mean about that. It’s something she could never be any good at, so she turns her back on it. That’s probably why she’s on Chuck’s back about it all the time, at least when anyone else is around.”

“I think you’re right,” Will smiled. “I think all she wants to be is a pit lizard in a short skirt and a low-cut top, something for guys to hang their tongues out over.”

“She’d be good at that,” Kayla agreed. “She’s like Carol Lynn, dressing like a slut comes easy since she’s a slut to begin with. I can’t imagine either of them getting into a race car and trying to race it. They just don’t have what it takes.”

*   *   *

Saturday proved to be a nice day for April, on the cool side but dry. The sky was blue, and as the day progressed it filled with fluffy white cumulus clouds, just enough to make it a very pretty day. This was the day that Telzey had been waiting for, and she knew she’d be spending it at the track.

Though qualifying didn’t start until four in the afternoon, the Austins opened the track early for hot laps on Saturday – at ten in the morning, so people could have a “test and tune” session, running on the track for a few laps at a time in order to get their cars set up for racing after a winter of working on them. Telzey was there, along with the Austin family and a number of other people who were involved in making things work, things like scoring and flagging, ticket takers, the announcer, many of the concessions people, and the like. She and Will had finished mowing the grass around the track in the last couple days after school, so the two of them were doing other things.

Mostly what they did on Saturday was sit around on a pickup truck loaded with a spreader for the oil dry – which was, in fact, the cheapest kitty litter that Ginger could find to buy in bags by the pallet load – and wait for someone to dump an engine or a radiator, after which they’d have to go out and clean it up, aided by the sweeper and a guy named Dan, a veteran track worker in his thirties.

They didn’t have to go out often to pick up after troubles on the track, but they did have to do it more than Telzey expected, considering that people had had all winter to work on their cars. She mentioned this to Dan, and he told her that even though people had worked on their cars all winter it didn’t mean they had them put together right, and once she thought about it she decided that he was right.

Qualifying got under way at four o’clock. This involved cars running individually around the track against the clock, to settle their starting position in the heat and feature races. The starting order of the feature would be in reverse order of the qualifying times, which meant that the fastest cars started at the rear of the field. What made it important is that all the laps were timed automatically by a transponder activating a loop at the start-finish line – if someone ran more than half a second under their qualifying time in a race, they would automatically have a lap taken away from them. This discouraged people starting at the back of the heats and running slowly in order to get a good position in the feature, where there was money involved in the finishes.

While she and Dan sat back and watched the qualifying runs, Will left to go get in his freshly painted Number 89 Plymouth Sundance and get his run in. Since the Powder Puff race she’d be running in was a novelty race, there was no qualifying – the starting order would be chosen by a drawing.

Watching the qualifying runs was about as dull as watching the test-and-tune runs, although there was a little more of interest from watching the score board, which had the times run for each lap. Telzey noticed that the Pony Stocks lapped the track in the nineteen- to twenty-one-second range. The fastest Street Stocks weren’t that much faster, running in the low eighteens, while the Sportsmen got into the low seventeens and high sixteens. But the slowest ones could be slow indeed, sometimes four or more seconds slower than the fast ones in any of the classes. Telzey noted that Will ran very well in his Number 89 Plymouth Sundance, a 19.686, not the fastest of the Pony Stocks, but not far from it, either. The fastest cars, a little surprisingly, were the “Vintage Modifieds,” a traveling show that ran a circuit of several tracks around the area; they’d be at Bradford several times over the summer. These were cars that had fiberglass replica bodies of pre-1948 cars, and six-cylinder engines. The engine rules were pretty lax and some of those engines could belt out considerable horsepower. That horsepower, plus a very light weight, made them very fast.

Shortly after Will finished his qualifying run, he came back over to the truck and tractor where Dan and Telzey sat watching what action there was. “Hey Will,” she smiled at him, “you did pretty good.”

“I think I could have done a little better,” Will shrugged. “I was a little off on my entries. I guess I’m just glad that we’re not racing for points tonight.”

“Looked to me like you were pushing just a little,” Dan commented. “You might want to drop a little tire pressure in your left front to help you turn better.”

“It’s already pretty low,” Will shook his head. “I think going up on the right might be the better move. It’ll do for tonight, but I think I’ll try playing with it at the test-and-tune session next Thursday. Here goes Chuck, let’s see how he does.”

Chuck took his Street Stock Chevy out on the track. It did not look as neat and well turned out as Will’s Pony Stock – it still showed the dents and battle damage from the previous year, and the engine didn’t sound quite as strong as some of the other Street Stocks they’d been watching. Chuck ran around slowly for half a lap, and then opened it up on the backstretch so he was going full speed when he passed the start-finish line. His first lap was nothing to write home about for a Street Stock – 20.071 – but he picked it up on his next lap, getting into the nineteens. “Come on Chuck, you can do better than that,” Will said as he looked up at the scoreboard.

His final lap was better, if not a whole lot – 19.472. “I’ve seen better,” Dan commented. “He’s loose, way loose. He was almost dirt-tracking it there a couple times.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed. “He just barely beat my Pony Stock time. Telzey, what’s the best lap you’ve run in the training car?”

“Nineteen point seven something,” she said. “In fact, I’ve got several nineteen point sevens.”

“That’s pretty darn good,” Dan nodded. “Especially considering that old beater is heavier and doesn’t have the engine of a Street Stock.”

Will shook his head. “He’s more than a second slower than the fastest Street Stocks. It looks to me like he’s in for a long evening.”

“Maybe a long season,” Dan agreed. “It looks to me like he’s spent too much time paying attention to Ashley when he should have been paying attention his car. Now he’s going to pay for it.”

“Maybe he’ll get the message now,” Will agreed.

While they watched the action, each of them in turn took time to run over to the concession stand to get hot dogs, fries, and drinks, although Telzey was nervous enough that she didn’t feel much like eating. By the time they were done eating most of the qualifying was over with. Cars still came out occasionally to try and re-qualify, or in some cases to qualify after a long struggle to get a reluctant beast running properly. It was one of the latter ones that caused them to have to get to work – there was a puff of smoke, a sick sound from the engine, and the driver dove into the pit entrance leaving a trail of oil behind him. “Well, I guess we get to do something,” Dan said, firing up the pickup, while a couple other people ran out to help them with the mess.

It took probably fifteen minutes to lay enough oil dry to clean up the track, and then Will hopped on the tractor with the street sweeper hooked on behind to clean things up. Three cars had waited out their work, and as soon as they pulled the rigs back into the pits the three came out to run a few slow laps to help work in the surface. Then, two of them pulled back into the pit lane and qualifying went on.

“We probably ought to be heading over to the drivers’ meeting,” Will said as the last qualifier finished up. “It’s scheduled for six thirty and they don’t like to be late.” Sure enough, a loudspeaker went off just then, calling all drivers to the drivers’ meeting behind the pit concession stand.

It was just a short distance over there; Telzey and Will were there within a minute or two, with many drivers still arriving – some of them wearing driving suits like Will, or just jeans and shirts like Telzey.

“All right everybody,” Ray said into a microphone he was carrying. “Can everybody hear me?” He paused for a second, and no one complained, so he went on. “Welcome to the season opener of the Bradford Speedway. We’re glad you could all make it tonight. Just as a reminder, we’ll be paying normal purses tonight, but no season points, so you don’t have to do anything heroic out there. We will not tolerate rough driving. It’s always uncalled for and it’s especially uncalled for at the opening of the season. If you’re in an incident and we point the black flag at you, consider that a warning. If you get black flagged again, you go to the end of the field. Third time and you’re out. Is that clear?”

All of this had been explained to Telzey in the past, and she was sure that most of the other drivers had heard it before, so she was only half listening. She glanced around the crowd. It was mostly male, but the ages ranged all over the place from somewhere around her age to gray haired and likely in their sixties, at least. There were only a handful of women, and she was sure that many of them were wives or girlfriends of some of the drivers, although the women she’d be driving against in the Powder Puff race were all supposed to be here, too.

As she glanced around the crowd, she was a little surprised to see Ashley Hitchcock there, hugging Chuck’s arm as he listened to his father, playing the devoted girlfriend, and probably hating it, Telzey assumed.

“Just like last year, we have a three-spin rule,” Ray told the crowd. “Your first spin, if you spin yourself or someone spins you, you get your spot back. Second spin, you go to the back of the field. Third one and you’re out. If you spin someone and one of the officials rules that it was intentional, you go to the back of the field. Second time and you’re out. If you accidentally spin someone and you’re at fault, tap the top of your car and take your place at the back and we’ll give you an extra chance. Don’t try to win the race in the first corner, it can’t be done and is just a pain in the butt for everyone.”

Ray went on to explain several other things, what the flags meant, the “breakout” rule if someone exceeded the half-second limit on qualifying, and to warn that they’d be quick to use the black flag if it looked like a car was leaking something.

“We’ll be running Pony Stocks, Street Stocks, Vintage Modifieds, and Sportsmen in that order,” he continued. “All heats will be ten laps, the features are twenty-five. Pony Stocks are going to be a little crowded if everyone is still running, so if you’re in the back of the field, be patient, you’ve got time to get to the front. Street Stocks that will have someone in the Powder Puff race, line up behind the third Sportsman heat as soon as the second heat gets on the track. That’ll give you a little extra time to get your drivers situated. We’ll run the Powder Puff right after the last Sportsman heat, then have the drifting exhibition. Some gal is going to be singing a couple songs from the track for the rest of the intermission. We’ll be posting the starting order for the feature as soon as we get the numbers down from the scoring stand, so you’ll have plenty of time to get organized. Like in any race, be careful in the first corner. That four- and five-wide stuff in the first corner looks exciting but you stand a good chance of bending your cars up, too, so don’t try it.”

Ray ran through a few more things, then said that the starting orders would be posted on the side of the concession stand as soon as he was done. “I’ve already moved a couple newbies to the back of their field to keep them out of the heavy action for the first few laps,” he announced. “If you elect to move to the back of your field, let me know within fifteen minutes of my posting the start sheets. At the end of that time, we’ll have the opening ceremonies and the national anthem. The first Pony Stock heat should be saddled up at that point but I’d like everyone else to pay attention to the ceremonies. Any questions?”

There were questions, of course, mostly on things that Ray had already gone over. Finally, he headed over to a bulletin board on the wall of the concession stand and began thumb-tacking sheets of typing paper to it. Telzey wanted to rush right over and see where she was starting, but it was crowded and it would be a long time before she had to run, so she took her time. She hadn’t made it up to the bulletin board when Will came rushing up to her. “Telzey, I need your help,” he said. “I’m starting in the eighth spot in the first heat, and I’ve got to drive the 66 car in the opening ceremonies. Take my car and get it lined up for me. Let it idle to get warmed up. I’ll have a couple minutes after I get out of the midget to get over to the start line, so be ready to help me get buckled in.”

“Wow, you get to drive the 66 midget? That’s neat!”

“I think so too,” he said. “Chuck is driving the 2. It’s just parade laps, no racing, but this is the first time I’ve done it.”

“That’s really cool,” she said. “You have fun!”

“I will,” he smiled. “I better get over there. Those cars are hard to get started some times, and they want us to run several parade laps. Go get my car, I’ll see you later.”

Telzey hurried over to the 89 car, which wasn’t parked far away. Since the car was kept up at the shop, there was no need for a hauler, so it was in a short space nosed up to one of the Vintage Modified cars, with only a push cart of tools and a couple spare tires sitting next to it. She made a quick check, hoping that everything was ready to go. She’d seen him filling the crash-resistant gas tank called a fuel cell earlier, and he couldn’t have run more than just the qualifying laps. Just on general principles she walked around the car, making sure everything looked all right and that all the tires seemed good, then got into the seat and fired it up.

Since the race cars didn’t have mirrors – track rules – someone usually served as a spotter and guide to back them out of their spots, but since she wasn’t wearing a helmet or strapped in she could twist around enough to do it herself. She drove the car around to where the first heat was forming up in the lane through the center of the pits. Dan was there carrying a clipboard, getting people in the proper order, and he was surprised to see her there. “Will’s driving the 66 midget,” she explained. “If this is about where you want this car, I’m going to let it idle and get out so I can see him.”

“We’ll make it work,” Dan smiled. “I’m surprised, though.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I figured you’d have your helmet and driving suit on, and be all strapped in, with someone waylaying Will so you’d have to drive this for him.”

“Now you mention it,” she laughed as she clambered out of the car. “If I’d thought of that a few minutes ago I might have done it.”

She was on the ground in time enough to see Chuck and Will drive the two antique midget racers out of the roped-off area across from the concession stand, up the lane and onto the track. Both of the drivers were carrying checkered flags that flapped in the air as they drove slowly around the track. It would really have been neat, she thought, to see a young Mel and Arlene driving those same cars around some dirt track fifty years ago. What a life that must have been! She’d heard Mel tell some stories of those days and it seemed like a past that was long gone. A track like this, cars like this, must have seemed like dreams. The midgets, the Vintage Modifieds, seemed to be a taste of those days, but things must have been very different, too. What a life that must have been!

After a while spent watching those two old cars and thinking about the stories Mel had told and the life he must have led, a flagman came out and waved the checkered flag at them, signaling them to come in. They finished their lap, waving their flags at the crowd, then slowly turned into the pit lane and drove down to the roped-off area across from the concession stand. She moved toward there, intending to help Will out of the 66 midget, but he erupted from the seat like he must have already had his belt off, and came racing her way, still wearing his helmet and gloves. In only a minute, she was helping him get belted into the 89 car, leaning through the window as they worked together to get him ready. “You ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said.

“One more thing,” she smiled and leaned forward. He was wearing an open-faced helmet so it was easy to get into a position where she could kiss him on the lips. She intended it as just a symbolic little brush, but he reached up and put his arms around her, and the kiss went on for several seconds. It was the first time she’d ever kissed a boy, and the first time a girl had ever kissed him, and in that few seconds they decided that they both liked it. “Good luck and be careful out there,” she said warmly, “but drive it like you stole it.”

“I will, Telzey,” he smiled, wishing there were something more he could say, but there wasn’t time. His father was motioning the cars out onto the track.

One of the things that she hadn’t thought about was that there was no really good place to watch the cars all the way around the track from the pits – the concession building, and some of the haulers and trailers blocked off much of the view. She’d already made plans to watch the features from the grandstands across the track, so she could sit with her grandparents, Kayla, and her family, but there were only occasionally times that she could cross the track, and intermission was the best one, so she’d already made her apologies. She looked around for a possible place where she could see, and decided that up by the flagman’s position was about the best possibility – but a couple who had been getting the car ahead of Will set up said, “We’ve got a good view on top of our hauler. Would you like to join us?”

She didn’t need a second invitation; she clambered up a ladder right behind the couple, and discovered that the view from the top of the enclosed trailer was a lot better. She could see perhaps three quarters of the track from there; it was only blocked off in a few places, and those were relatively small. “Thanks,” she said to her benefactors. “This is a lot better than trying to watch from the ground.”

“It is,” the woman said. “Is that your boyfriend racing the 89 car?”

That was a good question, Telzey thought. She’d always thought of Will as just a friend – but she’d just kissed him, too. Did that make him her boyfriend? Or what? “Yeah, sorta,” she replied, not wanting to commit to anything just yet. Will seemed to like the kiss, but did that mean anything? Now was not the time to wonder about it; she glanced at the flag stand across the track, and saw the flagman waving the yellow and white flags, signaling that there was one lap before the green flag would start the race.

This wasn’t the first race she’d been to, even the first short-track race – but this time she was in the pits and was part of the action, not just a spectator sitting up in the stands. That made it seem extra special. She glanced across to the grandstand – it wasn’t very full, maybe half full she estimated, but since she knew where her grandparents and Kayla and her family were planning to sit, she was able to pick them out right away. She gave them a little wave and thought she saw a wave back as she heard the nine cars now in turn four wind up their engines and accelerate, anticipating the green flag.

There was a single car in the row behind Will, and she saw him pull out and begin to pass barely out of the fourth turn. He really dropped the hammer and shot past Will even before the start finish line. Will lagged behind as the cars entered turn one, but there was a real mess in front of him. The guy who had passed him was on the outside, going hard, and a couple people had pulled out trying to pass, including the guy next to Will. That meant that there were cars not far in front of Will going four wide. Somebody shoved a little hard on somebody else, someone spun, and then someone else spun, and in less time than it takes to say it there was a mess down there, with yellow flags waving all over the place.

“First corner, first heat of the year,” Telzey heard one of the people who had invited her up onto the hauler say. “Boy, doesn’t that just get the season off to a great start?”