Telzey looked out at the mess on the track. Will had played it extremely smart, lagging back. When he saw the crowd ganging together in the corner, he’d stood on the brake, rather than the gas, anticipating what was going to happen. As it turned out, he was able to bring the still pristine 89 car to a stop short of the accident, which had stalled or wrecked cars blocking the way clear across the track. Red flags were waving now, and the rest of the field had stopped on the back stretch or in turn three. One of the cars got moving, heading out of the mess.

“Good, he’s moving,” the woman said.

The man had binoculars up to his eyes, looking at the car. “Doesn’t seem to be banged up very bad,” he commented. He swung the binoculars back to the wreck. “It looks like that fool in the 20 car who tried to go around the outside won’t be going anywhere for a while, and that 20 car looks out of it, too. Your boyfriend in the 89 car really played it smart, though.”

“I think he thought that was going to happen,” Telzey said. “It looks to me like he used his head.”

Telzey watched as wreckers and the track crew headed out onto the track. There was a regular group of paid track workers who would clean up the mess, not the pickup group of Will, Dan, and her who had done the chore in the afternoon. It was clearly going to take a while to get the job done.

It was a good time to make friends with the couple, who turned out to be Jim and Ann Kaufmann – their son Jack was in the 25 car, just ahead of Will, and Jim would be driving a Sportsman later in the evening. “So, Telzey, are you a driver, too?” Ann asked.

“Well, sort of,” Telzey explained, saying that she was going to be driving in the Powder Puff race later. “I’d like to drive more, but I don’t have a car.”

“That would help,” Jim smiled. “Maybe you can get your boyfriend to sit out a race sometime and let you use his car.”

“I don’t really want to ask him,” Telzey replied. “He’s pretty serious about the points race this year, and I wouldn’t want to mess it up for him.”

“I suppose,” Jim said. “But there’s nothing like getting out there and driving.”

“I think I’ve figured that out,” Telzey laughed.

As expected, it was several minutes before they got the two badly wrecked cars removed, and the track cleaned up. From what Telzey could see from a distance, there was no liquid on the track, but the crew had to sweep it down anyway to be sure there were no small pieces that could mess up a tire. They did it with brooms, rather than the big sweeper, which had its limits.

Finally, the red lights around the track turned to yellow, and the flagman in the flag stand overlooking the start-finish line waved the yellow. Will drove around the track to catch up with the rest of the field. They drove several slow laps, sorting themselves out. Now, Will was at the back of the field of seven cars, since the 17 and the 20 were definitely out of the race.

After several laps, the flagman again gave the yellow and white to signal one lap to go. Again, they turned to watch the field accelerate out of the fourth turn. This time, the field kept their order as they crossed the start-finish line, although Jack in the 25 car and Will in the 89 had clearly moved out to the high side and were in a position to do some passing. The field was briefly three wide as they went into the first corner and out of sight behind a building, but by the time they were on the back stretch the two had managed to pass two of the cars ahead of them. Jack managed to pass another one on the front stretch, with Will still right behind him; somewhere in the corner Will ducked to the inside of the car Jim had just passed, and they roared through turns three and four side by side fighting it out for third.

Will had the inside lane, and in another lap was finally able to get past Jim. They’d fallen a little behind the fight for first and second while they’d been battling, and it took another lap before Will was a part of that battle, with Jack not far behind. Since the field had been started in inverse order to the qualifying times, Will and Jack were faster than the cars in front of them; all they had to do was to pass them. Will managed to pass one for second place and in another lap passed the other one for first, at about the same time Jack managed to pass for the second spot.

By now, both of them were catching up with the three cars they’d passed earlier, and it looked like they might be an issue in the battle between Jack and Will for the lead. Will shot past one of the lapped cars as the white flag flew, and Jack passed it in the first corner. One of the other slower cars was ahead of them as they headed into turns three and four; Will dived down to pass it on the inside, while Jack tried to go high around both of them. Jack was carrying a little more speed as a result of driving the higher line, and they both passed the car within a second or two. They were less than a car length apart when Will crossed the finish line ahead of Jack.

“Now, that was a race!” Jim exclaimed as the checkered flag flew. “Jack almost got him, too.”

“Yeah, but Will won!” Telzey grinned. “Now that’s the way to start the season.”

The cars slowed in the first turn, and after a full lap pulled into the pit lane, where the next heat was lined up and waiting to get on the track. Will pulled to a stop in what passed for the “winner’s circle,” an area just past the pit lane where the track photographer was waiting for him. It only took a moment for the photographer to place a sign beside the car saying “Heat Race Winner, Bradford Speedway 2003” and take a picture. This was automatic at most tracks; there was a wall in Will’s room at home that had several such pictures on it, along with a few trophies.

With the photo taken, Will took the checkered flag from the photographer, held it out the window of the 89 car with his left hand, and drove around the track at a good pace. At the pit lane, he stopped again, handed the flag back, and drove into the pits. “I better go,” Telzey told the Kaufmanns. “I need to congratulate him in person.”

“Lucky kid,” Jim grinned. “Have a good time, Telzey, and come join us again if you want to.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kaufmann, Mrs. Kaufmann,” Telzey replied as she headed to the ladder to the ground. “I might just do that.”

She scuttled down the ladder, and ran the short distance to where Will was getting out of the car, to find that Ginger and Mel were there to congratulate him as well. That didn’t slow her down much – as he took off his helmet, she raced up to him, threw her arms around him and planted another kiss on his lips. It wasn’t just a friendly little peck, either – it went on for a few seconds, and she felt his arms go around her again. “Great job, Will,” she said when they came up for air.

“If that’s what happens when I win, I think I may have to win them all,” he laughed.

“Looks to me like Will has a girlfriend,” Mel grinned.

“Doesn’t surprise me much,” Ginger laughed. “After all, I know what it’s like to have a race car driver for a boyfriend.”

Neither Mel nor Ginger could stick around long, since they both had things they had to be doing. Ray was busy getting the next heat on the track, but Telzey had noticed that he’d managed to have a handshake with his son when he pulled into the pits after he dropped off the checkered flag. “That was quite a race,” Telzey commented to Will as he stripped off his driving gloves. “I thought sure that you were going to be in that mess in the first turn.”

“I could see that bozo in the 17 car getting squirrelly on the back stretch before we started,” he snorted. “I figured I’d better give him some room and stay as far away as I could. Looks like I guessed that one pretty good. It would have been a shame to mess up the new paint job in the first turn of the first heat.”

“That’s kind of what Mr. and Mrs. Kaufmann said,” Telzey reported. “They didn’t put it quite like that, though.”

“I can imagine,” Will snickered. “That was Jack Kaufmann’s folks, right? The guy I was racing in the 25 car?”

“Yeah, I watched the race with them on top of their hauler.”

“Jack is pretty good,” Will nodded. “We’ve raced each other before, we always try to race each other clean. I passed him on a sucker move, and I think we’d have had quite a battle if we’d been able to run a few more laps. Let’s go find a place to watch the other two Pony Stock heats, I want to see who else I’m going to be running in the feature.”

“The Kaufmanns invited me back,” Telzey reported. “They might not mind if I showed up with you.”

“Probably not,” Will shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time, and Jack and I are sort of race-track friends, anyway. Let’s watch the next two heats, then go get a hot dog or something.”

*   *   *

The next Pony Stock heat was just getting started as they got to the Kaufmanns’ hauler. “Hi!” Will called up to the people on the top. “Can we come up and join you?”

“Sure thing,” Jim Kaufmann called back. “There’s always room for you and your girlfriend, Will.”

Will turned to Telzey with a grin on his face. “That’s the second time in a couple minutes that someone has referred to you as my girlfriend,” he laughed. “I’ve never had one before.”

“I guess it looks like you have one now,” she giggled. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” he smiled. He turned, gave her a quick hug, and stood by as she climbed up the ladder to the top of the hauler, and then followed her.

They were not surprised to find Jack Kaufmann on top of the hauler with them, wearing his driving suit like Will. Telzey hadn’t met him before, but was not surprised to see that he was about Chuck’s age, maybe a little older. He was a gawky looking kid with a lot of hair. “Congratulations, Will,” Jack grinned at him. “That was a heck of a race.”

“It was after we got to actually running it,” Will agreed. “By the way, this is my girlfriend, Telzey Amberdon. Telzey, this is Jack Kaufmann.”

“Well, congratulations to you for that, too,” Jack grinned. “Telzey, he’s really not as bad as he sounds.”

“I know that,” she grinned. “You two ran a heck of a race.”

“It could have been better,” Will snorted, turning to Jack. “Did you see that stunt that Hutchison pulled, trying to pass the whole field in the first corner?”

“Not only did I see it, I was right in the middle of it,” Jack replied, a little disgust in his voice.

“I don’t know what he thought he was trying to prove,” Will agreed. “Did your car get banged up very bad?”

“No, I was lucky. Dented the fender a little and scratched the paint. It shouldn’t take too long to fix when I get it home. Looks like he has some work in front of him, though.”

“Serves him right,” Will smiled. “It’s always nice when the guy that causes the wreck has to fix his own car.”

“As if he’d be the one doing the fixing,” Jack snorted as they heard the noise of the second heat of Pony Stocks start to accelerate. “His dad will be doing it.”

Everyone turned their attention to the track, where the starter was waving the green flag. Much like before, the field spread out as they dove into the first turn. While it looked like a madhouse, the whole field was still running as they got into the back stretch, but the leader was passed going into turn three, and was passed again as they came out of turn four.

Like the race before, the fastest qualifiers started in the back, so there was plenty of passing going on, especially in the first few laps as the order of cars more or less reversed itself, but it happened fairly quickly. Within five laps, two cars that had started in the back of the field were at the front, and one of them was starting to outdistance the other. “Boy,” Jack commented, “Jerabek in the 29 car is really flying.”

“It only looks like it,” Jack’s father replied, looking up from a stop watch in one hand. “He’s not putting up the same kind of numbers you two were there at the end.”

“Are you sure?” Will asked. “It looks like he’s pulling away pretty good. And what’s the matter with Wolsley in the 48? He’s usually out in front.”

“Some kind of trouble, maybe?” Jack said casually. “I know I looked at his back bumper an awful lot last year.”

“Yeah, me too,” Will agreed, shifting his attention to a three-way battle for fourth place. The three cars were going at it hard, and had been for a couple laps. It finally came to an end when one of the cars spun, fortunately not hitting anything, but the yellow flag came out as a result. It took a couple minutes to get the cars lined up again for the restart, with only two laps to go.

The restart got under way in much better order than the original start, mostly because the field had been sorted out already. However, for whatever reason Jerabek wasn’t getting away from the 12 car as quickly as he did before – in fact, the 12 car was right on his bumper. Since there were only two laps to go the battle didn’t go on for long, and in the last corner the 12 managed to get under the 29. As they came out of the corner, they were side by side racing for the finish. As the checkered flag flew, it looked to Telzey like the 12 had edged out the 29 by maybe a foot, not much more.

The flagman and scorer agreed; the 12 car was declared the winner by a nose. He headed over to the winner’s circle for a photo, then took a lap with the checkered flag, like Will had done a few minutes before. “Good deal,” Jack commented. “It’s nice to see Gustafson win for once. I can’t tell you how many times I saw him finish second or third last year, but I don’t think he ever won once.”

“I can’t think of any, either,” Will agreed. “It looks to me like he might get a little winning in this year, though.”

“I sure hope so,” Jack agreed. He turned to Telzey and explained. “He’s a nice guy, but he has cerebral palsy; he can’t walk very good and he talks real slow. It sounds like he’s stupid, but he’s really a pretty smart guy.”

“Yeah,” Will nodded. “It’s a shame people put him down so much. He really is one of the good guys.”

Things were moving right along; the 12 car had no more than pulled off of the track when the third heat was signaled onto it. As before, they took a few laps to warm up and get into position before the green flag flew.

The third heat was not the prettiest racing of the night. In ten laps there were five caution flags, counting one on the first lap before it could be completed. One car spun three times and would have been booted out of the race except for the fact that it was damaged so badly by another car hitting it while spinning that it couldn’t stay in the race, anyway. Two other cars were damaged badly enough that they couldn’t continue, although one of the two, the 11 car, was able to limp off of the track under its own power. “They might get it patched up enough to run the feature,” Will observed.

The next heat, which had to wait through all the cleanup and hassles of running the third Pony Stock heat, was the first Street Stock heat. Will looked down and saw that Chuck’s 86 was going to be starting in the middle of the pack, so he and Telzey decided to stay on top of the Kaufmanns’ hauler to watch that heat as well.

Unlike the front-wheel-drive four-cylinder Pony Stocks, the Street Stocks used rear-wheel drive with V-8 engines. They were restricted to stock bodies and chassis like the Pony Stocks. Since they had considerably more power than the smaller Pony Stocks they were a little faster, even though they didn’t handle as well. The extra power meant that they were louder, though. There had been a slightly smaller number of Street Stocks entered, so the heats were of seven and eight cars, rather than nine and ten like the Pony Stocks.

The first Street Stock heat went off fairly smoothly. There was a caution in the middle of the race when the leader, of all people, spun out in turn four, but since it was a solo spin, he got the position back on the restart and was able to hold his lead the rest of the way. Chuck wound up running fifth out of the eight cars in the race – not a real surprise, considering his qualifying effort.

Once the heat was over with, Will turned to Telzey and said, “If you still want, I’ll buy you that hot dog that I was talking about.”

“Yeah, now that the racing is under way I think I could stand to eat something,” Telzey agreed. “If you’re going to run and get it, maybe you could get me a Coke or something, too.”

“You want to stay up here and watch the racing, right?” Jim laughed. “Even if that means your boyfriend has to go and stand in line at the concession stand?”

“Of course,” Telzey grinned. “I mean, what else are boyfriends for?”

“Will, if you’re wise, you won’t answer that,” Ann laughed.

“Oh, I’ll go,” he said. “As long as I’m going can I get something for anyone else? I’ll just need help after I get back in getting it up the ladder.”

In the next minute or so Will had a considerably longer list of things to get from the concession stand, and Jack offered to go with him to help handle it. The two of them missed most of the next Street Stock heat, although they didn’t miss a great deal – the racing wasn’t all that good, with relatively few position changes. It ran with no spins or crashes, and was soon complete.

The boys were back in time for the next heat, the last of the Street Stocks. This one made up for the lack of thrills in the previous heat. The lead changed hands three times in the first lap and at least once a lap after that, and the positions were continually changing back in the pack. Even as the race neared a close, all eight cars in the heat were within a hundred yards or so, and there were so many position changes on the last lap the track announcer was still trying to catch up as the cars completed their cool-down lap. “That’s what I like to see in a race,” Jim said. “Lots of action, nobody running away with it, and a clean race with no wrecking.” He stopped for a moment then added, “Unless I’m running in it, then I want to be the one running away from the field.”

Next up were the Vintage Modifieds, which really looked like they belonged on a short track. In general, they looked like vintage hot rods, all coupes or sedans, but mostly with their engines out in the open, and open front wheels. There were no beat-up junkers here, like some of the cars in the Pony Stocks and Street Stock – these were all well turned out cars, with fresh paint, neat lettering, and lots of chrome. “Those things are faster than snot,” Jim said. “I’ve given some thought to selling my Sportsman and building one of them. The racing isn’t quite as sharp because those cars are worth some pennies and the drivers like to take care of them, but they’re the fastest things we’ll see running here tonight.”

There weren’t as many of the Vintage Modifieds as there were in the other classes, so there were only two heats of them. The cars were fast and loud, and exciting to watch. The first heat featured a black car that resembled a ’29 Ford Model A and another pink one that purported to be a mid-thirties Chevy. The two were the class of the field, and soon left the rest behind as they had a tight battle for the lead for much of the race, first place changing hands several times. The second heat was a little less thrilling, since there was less passing, but it was still easy to enjoy the cars as they raced around the track. It too featured a close race to the finish; as the winner pulled into the victory circle, the second place car pulled alongside and gave the winner a visible “thumbs up,” a gesture that the driver of the winning car repeated. Either they were friends or they had a lot of respect for each other.

“Now, that’s the racing spirit,” Ann laughed. “And if you plan on racing in the third Sportsman heat, you better think about getting saddled up.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jim agreed. “They’ll probably start lining us up in ten minutes or so, so I guess I better get my act together.”

“You probably ought to think about getting your act together, too,” Will told Telzey. “They’ll be lining you up as soon as Jim’s heat gets out on the track.”

One by one they climbed down from the top of the hauler. Jim’s car was sitting next to Jack’s, right behind the hauler, so he didn’t have far to go. “Good luck, Jim,” she told him with a smile. “Drive it like you stole it.”

“It’d darn sure be cheaper if I had stole it,” Jim laughed back. “Telzey, good luck to you in your race, too.”

With that, Will and Telzey headed across the way, to where the trainer car had been parked next to Will’s Plymouth. “Hey,” he said, “did you ever get around to checking the starting lineup for the Powder Puff race?”

“No, I never did,” Telzey admitted. “First I had to run and get your car lined up while you drove the midget, and then I got invited up on the hauler, so I just never thought about it.”

“I suppose we ought to at least check,” Will suggested.

The two of them headed over toward the bulletin board on the side of the concession stand. The lineup sheets were posted in the order the heats would be held, so the Powder Puff race was clear down at the end. It turned out that there were only seven cars in the race, and “66 – T. Amberdon” was the last car listed. “I wonder if Dad fudged that, or that was the way it was actually drawn,” Will commented. “Oh, well, I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

“I suppose not,” Telzey said. “Do you know any of the others, who they might be?”

“Not really,” Will shrugged. “I don’t know the Street Stocks and their drivers the way I know the Pony Stocks. Let’s see, the 32, that’s Bud Shoemaker’s car, so it’s probably his wife driving, I don’t know anything else about her. Everybody else, well, I don’t know . . . hey, what’s this?”

“What?”

“86 – A. Hitchcock,” Will said in surprise. “You don’t suppose that could be Ashley driving Chuck’s car, do you?”

“You don’t suppose?” Telzey said.

“Well, it could be,” Will replied thoughtfully. “I don’t know of any other 86 car here tonight, so it about has to be Chuck’s, but I can’t imagine Ashley actually driving it in a race.”

“But she might break a fingernail,” Telzey snorted. “Or worse, the helmet might smear her makeup.”

“Beats me,” Will shrugged. “You’re still planning on wearing your driving suit without having it over your regular clothes, right?”

“I thought I might not, but it’s warmer tonight than I thought it was going to be, so maybe I’d better do it like I planned.”

“Why don’t you go change clothes?” Will suggested. “I’ll go see if I can find Chuck or Dad and see what’s going on with this.”

“Sounds like a plan, such as it is,” Telzey grinned. She headed over to the pushcart that supported both their cars, while Will headed off in search of his father or brother. Chuck was nowhere to be found, but his father was busy lining up cars for the second Sportsman heat while the first one was getting set on the track.

It took a minute or two for Will to get his father off to the side, while they waited for the Sportsman heat to start. “Hey, Dad,” he said, “what’s the deal with Chuck’s car in the Powder Puff race?”

“Beats me,” Ray replied. “All I know is that he came to me at the last minute and said that Ashley wanted to run it in the Powder Puff. She’s not eighteen, but he had the permission form from her parents, so there wasn’t much I could do but say, ‘fine, go to it.’”

“Has she practiced with the car at all?” Will asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” Ray said. “I suppose they could have been out here some time when I wasn’t looking, especially in the test and tune this morning, but if they did they managed to slip it by me. Knowing what I know of Ashley, that would surprise me. Hey, I’ve gotta run, they’re about to go green.”

Now, Will really wanted to know what was going on – at least he had his suspicions. The only way to find out was to talk to Chuck without Ashley around, as if that would happen. He headed over to where Chuck’s car was parked, but there was no sign of either of them.

He was back at the trainer car – which had been numbered “66” with masking tape, in honor of Mel’s old number, just for this race, since it was his car, after all – to wait for Telzey to come out of the rest room. While he waited, he checked the car over once again, but he didn’t have to wait for long, she came out in a couple minutes. His first glance at her altered his impressions of her to no small degree.

Telzey would not have admitted it to him, mostly because she wouldn’t have admitted it to herself, but she was just a little self-conscious about the fact that she was better developed in the chest than most girls her age. It made her stand out, and that’s one thing that girls that age often don’t want to do, so she tended to cover up the fact by wearing baggy sweatshirts and jeans. The fireproof driving suit fitted her a lot better than anything else that Will had seen her wear. All of a sudden he realized down in his gut that Telzey was more than just another kid he hung around with – she really was a girl, and the driving suit made her look like it. They had joked a little bit earlier about being boyfriend and girlfriend, but now, to look at her, it seemed a lot more real – and a lot more interesting. He had a girlfriend, not just a friend who looked sort of like a girl.

“Wow!” he commented. “You look racy!”

“I don’t know,” she replied with a frown. “It’s a little bit snug, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think,” he said, and realized that he’d better not pursue that line of teasing too hard. “I think you look great. Anyway, I talked to Dad, and it really is Ashley that’s going to be driving Chuck’s car.”

“Wow,” Telzey shook her head. “I wonder what got into her?”

“Beats me,” Will smiled, “but I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I kinda suspect that Chuck conned her into it, to let her get a taste of what it’s like from behind the wheel.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “It doesn’t sound like her, for some reason.”

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter,” Will told her. “Drive your own race.”

The time was getting tight, now with the second Sportsman heat out on the track and the third one lining up. As soon as the current heat ended, the Powder Puff racers would have to line up. Telzey was starting to feel the nerves build up again, even though she knew there was no reason to be nervous.

Telzey was just getting into the car when she looked up and saw Chuck and Ashley standing there looking at Will and her. “So the little grease monkey is going to drive after all?” Ashley sneered.

“What do you mean, after all? I never even thought about not driving,” she said, trying to be civil.

“I thought that all that bull you put out around school that I didn’t have the guts to do this was just bull,” the older girl sneered. “Now I’m going to show you who the better driver is.”

“Oh, go primp,” Telzey replied cattily, all pretense of trying to be civil gone. “Your makeup isn’t thick enough, I can still see your face.”

“I’ll show you, you little grease monkey,” Ashley sneered as she turned on her heel and walked away, leading Chuck by the hand.

“All that bull?” Telzey shrugged. “I didn’t say anything, except when you and Kayla and I were talking at lunch that time.”

“Me either,” Will said. “And Kayla isn’t the kind to gossip. But there could have been someone else that overheard us.”

“And the rumor probably got all over,” Telzey sighed. “That’s the way it works, isn’t it? You don’t suppose she’d try something dirty, do you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” he shook his head. “Look, she doesn’t have a rear view mirror, so when you pass her, get in her blind spot and blow right past her. Don’t give her a chance to pull anything.”

“But she’s got a faster car,” Telzey protested.

“Maybe so,” he smiled. “But Powder Puff races are always slow, like dead slow. Nobody has much experience with the cars, so nobody wants to drive very fast and risk busting up their husband’s or boyfriend’s car. Dad says that as far as he knows, Ashley has never been on the track with Chuck’s car. If she has, it hasn’t been much. You’ve been out there lots, so once you get in the open you’re going to go a lot faster.”

“You think?”

“I more than think. Just be careful around her and blow her doors off when you pass her. It’ll be the only shot she gets at you, unless you lap her. And I think you probably will, maybe even more than once. Then, you’ll be the one with the big grin.”

“I sure hope you’re right,” Telzey said, shaking her head.

“Like I told you, run your own race and don’t worry about her. Now, let’s get you in the car. They just dropped the green flag on the second heat, it’s not going to be long before they want you to line up.”

Normally, the doors opened on the trainer car that Telzey would be driving, but the track rules said that they had to be bolted or welded shut so they couldn’t fly open in an accident. In the minimal preparation they’d given the 66 car to run this race, they’d put bolts in holes that were already drilled, so now she had to climb through the window like a regular race car. Once in the car, though, it seemed familiar. She’d fastened up the belts any number of times, but now Will leaned through the window to help her. She pulled on her neck ring, and the helmet, fastening both into place, and pulled on her gloves.

“Since you’re going to be the last one in the lineup, there’s no hurry,” Will told her. “Just relax and take it easy. Forget about Ashley and focus your mind on the race.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Telzey snorted. There really was quite a bit riding on this race as far as she was concerned, not even considering the stuck-up blonde driving the 86 car. This might be the only chance she got to really drive a race car, at least any time in the near future, and she really wanted to do well. It would be so neat to win the race, to be able to send a photo of her in the car to her folks in Kuwait. She wanted to do well, to do something to take pride in, to do something that would give them pride in her. They’d showed a lot of faith in her judgment by letting her drive in this race, and she didn’t want that faith to be misplaced.

She knew that there were a couple guys who videotaped the races and made up DVDs that could be sold to drivers and fans. Wouldn’t it be neat to send her folks the DVD of this race, if it turned out well? They might really get a kick out of it. Yes, the idea of this race was to have fun, and if Ashley wanted to turn it into a grudge race then it was her problem. She just wanted to do well and have fun.

Those were the thoughts that were going through her mind as she sat there chatting quietly with Will. She was barely aware of the fact that the Sportsman heat was going on out on the track, even though the roar of the cars coming by every few seconds was there to remind her of it. Now, time was racing by – it seemed like only a few seconds before the heat was done, and the third Sportsman heat was pulling out onto the track.

“OK, get ready,” Will called to her. “Go ahead and start it up.”

She reached out, flipped the master switch and hit the starter. The Chevy V-8 up under the hood fired right up, and settled down to an idle. Will walked out in front of the car, looking down the pits. A couple of Street Stocks that were going to be in the Powder Puff race went by; the 86 wasn’t among them, since they were on a different row. After they passed, Will raised his arms, and signaled her to back straight up. She dropped the car into gear, let up on the brake pedal, and let the idle of the engine back her out. After a few feet, he swung his arms, telling her to turn the wheel to align with the pit lane.

Once she had it straightened out, Will leaned over to her. “Drive around the long way and stay back,” he suggested. “Let Dad worry about the lineup. Since you’re in back, let the others get in front. I’ll meet you over there in a minute.” He stepped back, and she put the car into drive and began to pull ahead.

Getting to the lineup area was easy since about all she had to do was to follow the car ahead. It wasn’t a long distance over there, and by the time she got there Will had hurried over to meet her. By now, the last Sportsman heat was getting under way, and could only be expected to last for a few minutes. This was going to be her big day, and her heart was pounding. Her view from the car was very restricted by the concession stand and the trailers sitting near the pit lane, so she couldn’t see much of the race except for the part right in front. Mr. Kaufmann was out there in that heat, she knew, and she tried to pick his car out as it went past. He seemed to be doing pretty well, in second or third as the race progressed, and figured that Ann and Jack would be watching the track, not looking at her on the pit lane.

Ten laps seemed to go by in a hurry; all of a sudden, cars were pulling off the track, and one of them – not Mr. Kaufmann – was pulling into the winner’s circle. It was almost time.

Will leaned his head in the window, and squirmed around to face her, inches from her face. “Good luck, Telzey,” he said. “Remember what I said. Drive your own race, stay away from the 86 car. You’re better than her in every possible way.” With that, he leaned even closer and planted his lips on hers.

Helpless to stop herself, she put her arms around him and hugged him tight as their kiss went on. “Hey, you two!” she heard Ray yell from not far away. “Get a room!” He stopped, shook his head and added. “I never thought I’d say that to the two of you. Don’t get a room, Telzey, get on the track.”