MOM’S cell and told her and her dad the news about qualifying. They tried to encourage her, her dad ending with “Hang in there and we’ll see you tomorrow.” It wasn’t what she was looking for. She thought she’d get some sage advice about racing, something that had happened to him when he was young, something his father had said. Maybe something she could write down on a napkin and put on her desk so she could look at it when things got tough.
Her stomach growled as she ordered her food and found an empty table. Chad sat down by her with a smirk. He had qualified second just behind a guy named Thor, but everybody called him Thunder (as if Thor wasn’t unique enough). Jamie called him Lead Foot because his shoes looked likeFrankenstein’s, and he always smoked his tires on the pits. Thor was another guy with a racing pedigree. His dad had driven Formula One, and his uncle had raced for the cup.
“Good job hanging on to the #1 out there,” Chad said.
“Go ahead and crow about your qualifying time,” Jamie said.
“Didn’t hurt that you and the others warmed up the track for me. Going last helps.”
Thor passed the table carrying his tray and raised a finger to say hello. She guessed he was conserving his energy for the final race on Sunday.
Jamie bit into a piece of corn on the cob, but the kernels got caught between her teeth. She worked on it as she and Chad talked, putting a hand over her mouth.
“Your dad coming up tomorrow?” Chad said. “Giving you help in the pits?”
She nodded. “What about yours?”
“He said he’d be here to watch me win on Sunday.”
“Do you do that on purpose, or does it just come naturally?”
“Do what?” Chad said.
“Puff up like a big fish in a little pond, making people think you’re important?” Jamie wished shehadn’t said it when she saw the look on his face, so she tried to recover. “I mean, just a little humility would be so much more becoming.”
Chad grabbed his tray and lifted it with one hand.
Jamie called after him as he walked away, but he was gone. Long gone.
Her cell phone buzzed, and since she suddenly didn’t feel much like eating, she dumped the rest in the trash and walked back to her room talking to Cassie Strower. She had a laugh that made Jamie smile every time she heard it, even if things weren’t going very well. They’d grown up together—Cassie’s dad was an engineer with a popular race team in town. They were both pepperoni pizza people. They liked some of the same music (though Cassie listened only to Christian bands), and they’d spent loads of time together having sleepovers and campouts.
However, there was one thing Cassie and Jamie didn’t have in common. Cassie was a thoroughly devoted follower of Jesus. She had told Jamie recently that she wanted to be a medical missionary to some foreign land where little kids were starving and needed help. Her ideas of what to do changed every few weeks, but there was no doubt Cassie wanted to follow God. She knew just about every verse in the Bible backward. Jamie joked that you couldn’t see herhalo because she wouldn’t stand still long enough—she was always volunteering at the church or the food pantry for the homeless.
Jamie had made a deal with God: You don’t bother me and I won’t bother you. That was how she lived mostly, though there were times when God seemed real and almost broke through the clouds. But her mind was usually on racing, not church stuff and reading her Bible.
Jamie was back in her room and sitting on the bed, flipping through the channels on TV, telling Cassie what had happened at the track. Cassie said she wanted to come watch the heats tomorrow, but she was tied up Sunday afternoon.
“Don’t tell me,” Jamie said. “You’re going to be over at the church making meals for a bunch of refugees.”
“I didn’t hear about any refugees,” Cassie said, deadpan. “Did they come from the other side of Lake Norman?”
Jamie chuckled.
Her stomach growled as she ordered her food and found an empty table. Chad sat down by her with a smirk. He had qualified second just behind a guy named Thor, but everybody called him Thunder (as if Thor wasn’t unique enough). Jamie called him Lead Foot because his shoes looked likeFrankenstein’s, and he always smoked his tires on the pits. Thor was another guy with a racing pedigree. His dad had driven Formula One, and his uncle had raced for the cup.
“Good job hanging on to the #1 out there,” Chad said.
“Go ahead and crow about your qualifying time,” Jamie said.
“Didn’t hurt that you and the others warmed up the track for me. Going last helps.”
Thor passed the table carrying his tray and raised a finger to say hello. She guessed he was conserving his energy for the final race on Sunday.
Jamie bit into a piece of corn on the cob, but the kernels got caught between her teeth. She worked on it as she and Chad talked, putting a hand over her mouth.
“Your dad coming up tomorrow?” Chad said. “Giving you help in the pits?”
She nodded. “What about yours?”
“He said he’d be here to watch me win on Sunday.”
“Do you do that on purpose, or does it just come naturally?”
“Do what?” Chad said.
“Puff up like a big fish in a little pond, making people think you’re important?” Jamie wished shehadn’t said it when she saw the look on his face, so she tried to recover. “I mean, just a little humility would be so much more becoming.”
Chad grabbed his tray and lifted it with one hand.
Jamie called after him as he walked away, but he was gone. Long gone.
Her cell phone buzzed, and since she suddenly didn’t feel much like eating, she dumped the rest in the trash and walked back to her room talking to Cassie Strower. She had a laugh that made Jamie smile every time she heard it, even if things weren’t going very well. They’d grown up together—Cassie’s dad was an engineer with a popular race team in town. They were both pepperoni pizza people. They liked some of the same music (though Cassie listened only to Christian bands), and they’d spent loads of time together having sleepovers and campouts.
However, there was one thing Cassie and Jamie didn’t have in common. Cassie was a thoroughly devoted follower of Jesus. She had told Jamie recently that she wanted to be a medical missionary to some foreign land where little kids were starving and needed help. Her ideas of what to do changed every few weeks, but there was no doubt Cassie wanted to follow God. She knew just about every verse in the Bible backward. Jamie joked that you couldn’t see herhalo because she wouldn’t stand still long enough—she was always volunteering at the church or the food pantry for the homeless.
Jamie had made a deal with God: You don’t bother me and I won’t bother you. That was how she lived mostly, though there were times when God seemed real and almost broke through the clouds. But her mind was usually on racing, not church stuff and reading her Bible.
Jamie was back in her room and sitting on the bed, flipping through the channels on TV, telling Cassie what had happened at the track. Cassie said she wanted to come watch the heats tomorrow, but she was tied up Sunday afternoon.
“Don’t tell me,” Jamie said. “You’re going to be over at the church making meals for a bunch of refugees.”
“I didn’t hear about any refugees,” Cassie said, deadpan. “Did they come from the other side of Lake Norman?”
Jamie chuckled.
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