Page 53 of Revved up & Ready

Sadie: Drive safely!

The whole way home, I’m working out ways to help her understand the reality of the situation. Yes, racing is dangerous, but not in the way she thinks. Ludlow crashed today, but he recovered immediately. He’s not hurt. The kind of tragedies she fears are extremely rare. The slight risk is worth getting to feelalive on the track.

Chapter 12

Sadie

Bowl a perfect game –from Sadie’s list of things she’s never done

“I hate running,” I mutter, closing the door behind me after my four-mile run.

“Then why keep doing it?” Cam asks, startling me as he steps out of the kitchen. His hair is wet, and he wears nothing but low-slung sweatpants that almost reveal the tattoo near his abdomen.What does it say?

“Because I don’tactuallyhate it. I just complain because it’s hard, but I want to prove to myself that I can,” I answer, walking past him.

He sips a can of watermelon sparkling water, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What is it you want to prove you can do?”

“Something that feelsbig.”

“Have you ever won something?” he asks, brushing a droplet of water from his expressive brow.

“I’m not trying to win the half marathon,” I laugh.

“I figured the big thing would befinishing, not winning. But for me,” he presses a hand to his chest over the ‘No Risk No Story’tattoo, “winning is the biggest thing there is.” His headtilts. “Actually, that’s not true. Going fast is the biggest thing. It feeds my soul. Winning is second.”

“Cam,” I say, filling a cup with ice, “it sounds like you’re suggesting I race motorcycles.”

“Never say never.” He shrugs. “But no, I was thinking go-karts.”

“Go-karts? Like at mini golf?” I ask.

“A lot like that, but they make bigger, faster ones that are a hell of a lot more fun,” he says, tracing his thumb around the rim of his can. “People race them competitively.”

I shoot him a look, swallowing an entire glass of water before refilling it under the filter.

“It’s one of the safest ways to race,” he explains. “The center of gravity is extremely low, and the ones I’d have you racing top out at around sixty-five miles an hour. I don’t know anyone who’s been injured racing one.”

“Safe is good,” I nod. “But what about it makes you think I’d like it?”

A broad smile fills his mouth as he pushes off the wall, like he’s been waiting all day to talk about this. “You get to go fast—that sixty-five isa lotwhen you don’t have a car body blocking the wind. And I think you could win some races.”

“You thinkIcould win races?” I ask.

“If you decide to do something, you follow through.” His eyes—more blue than green today—focus intently on me. “You’ll put in the work.”

“I’ll consider it,” I answer as I walk away to shower.

His confidence in me is a surprise,but maybe it shouldn’t be.I used to like going fast. Maybe if I felt safe enough, I’d like it again.Would he race with me? Teach me? Would it be part of our arrangement?

I’m still rolling the idea over when I get back to my bedroom after the shower. Collapsing onto the bed in my towel,I check my phone and find a text from Hanna. I’m still not a fan of hers, but I don’t harbor the anger and hurt I used to. She helped my ex cheat—which is abhorrent—but holding it against her isn’t worth the energy anymore.

Hanna: I get to see you soon!

Me: You see me on the call every morning?

Hanna: No, in real life! I’m coming to Palm Springs in July.

Me: What for?

---