Chapter 11
Saturday, practice times and Qualifying.
Friday went down just like I told Mr. Corely it would. I was beat by the time I climbed into bed last night. Between all the practice time on the track and the press conference where it was announced who my sponsors were, to the dinner last night. I just want to curl up in bed and do nothing this morning. The only problem with that is I have to be down at the pits for qualifying today. It is going to be another long day to boot.

Yesterday’s practice sessions drove an unexpected point home for me. Racing at Darlington or any NASCAR track, with the exceptions of the road courses Watkins Glen and Sonoma, is nothing like racing a Formula One course. Even the short tracks like Martinsville or Dover or Richmond are totally different animals than what I spent my time dealing with yesterday. No two turns were the same and each one had to be attacked in a different manner. It was being like back home and rat racing the guys on back country roads. I’m not talking about the paved roads, but all the dirt and red clay roads. The only difference is, here those roads are paved.

I swear the first five laps on that track made me feel like I didn’t belong behind the wheel. I must have slid sideways through just about every damned turn. If I hadn’t learned how to drift I know I would have wiped out at least four or five times. It took me the whole two-hour practice session to finally get the feel of the track at speed. Talk about your wake-up calls. Chief Hailee chewed my ass out for pushing the car for those first five laps. I don’t even want to think about how bad the tires were after that practice. Three full sets ruined. That’s three sets we won’t have for Qualifying or for the race tomorrow. And it is all my fault.

Yup you heard right. I’m the one to blame for those ruined tires and no one else. I let that pasta slurping, cheap wine guzzling, asshole sniffing, greaseball Guido, Fontana, get into my head at that meet and greet. Now that I have had time to think about it, that was the only reason for him being there. To throw me and Beth off our game. The bastard succeeded with me but failed miserably with Beth. I think I know why too. Our two styles of driving are so different that, what works for one doesn’t for the other.

Even the way our cars are setup reflect the way we drive. Beth with her cold analytical approach to driving is going to be far less subjectable to mind games. While I am the passion driven driver. I drive with my feelings. Fontana has already figured this out about me. It gave him an off the track advantage in screwing with me. He got me mad enough to make mistakes during practice. Mistakes that could have really fucked up my chances at proving to the world that I belong in this sport. Mistakes that could have turned deadly if I hadn’t had so much experience on backcountry roads rat-racing. He had gotten into my head so bad that not even my race-mix could calm me down.

It took dad pulling me off to the side during a break between practices to get my head back in the game. He had found out about what happened between Fontana and me from mom. “Bobbie please tell me that you’re not letting Fontana’s little mind-games fuck with your head girl?” When I thought about what he asked I just had to nod my head. “GOD DAMN IT! BOBBIE! I taught you better than that. How many fucking times do we have to go over this? Drive with your damned head and don’t let your fucking feelings get in the way.”

Dad took a deep breath and calmed down before continuing with chewing my ass. “I don’t care what those other assholes think. Neither should you. They don’t know what I know. You’re one of the finest drivers I have ever seen, Bobbie. I’m not saying that because you’re my daughter. I’m saying that because it’s the truth. Before your sister, you, and Joey came along, your mother and I worked with some of the best drivers in the world. I’ve seen you drive, baby girl, and I know that you can be one of the greats. You just need to drive the way you know how to, and piss on what everyone else thinks. You’ve already earned your right to be out there. Just go out there and run your race, nobody else’s, understand?”

For the second half of the practice I did exactly what dad told me to do. He even went up to the spotter’s nest to talk me through the course. Just the sound of dad’s voice as he talked me through each turn and so-called straightaways helped me get Fontana out of my head. Towards the end of yesterday’s practice both Beth and I were putting down real competition times and speeds. I know that we’ll stand a good chance at qualifying today.

I grab my equipment bag and head out for the track. I know that I’ll be there before any of the other drivers, but I don’t care. Beth, Kelly, and Tony were waiting for me as I exited my room. “Morning guys.”

“Morning lover. You ready for today?” Kelly asked as she hugged me.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Kelly.” I returned the hug and stepped back. “Well sis, you ready to see if we got what it takes?”

“Nope. I’m ready to take the pole and show those ass wipes that we’re not some fucking publicity stunt.” I swear I’ve never seen Beth this pissed. I guess Fontana got to her more than she was letting on.

Tony placed his arm across her shoulders. “Calm down Beth. You need to relax and get your head in the game, love. You go out there thinking like that and you’ll be making the same mistakes Bobbie did yesterday.” Tony leaned in and kissed Beth on the cheek. “Remember, save the tires and engine for the race. Drive the way Chief Marks told you, and you’ll qualify.”

He looked over at me and smiled. “Leave the crazy shit to Bobbie. That’s what she’s good at. You’re our Ice Princess. Drive that way.”

“No shit, Beth. I’m the one that’s supposed to be all emotional on the track. Let me be the asshole out there.” The sly smile I gave Beth had her looking at me as if I had lost my mind. “We’re a team. If the other drivers are looking for me to get stupid, they’ll be too worried to even consider you as a threat. You just drive right on past them to the pole position. Come tomorrow they’ll be trying to figure out how to get past you, while I drive my way through the field. Before they know what is happening we take first and second places at the checkered flag. We go home with the purse and leave them wondering what the fuck just happened.”

Beth smiled at me and hefted her gear bag. “Let’s go racing, little sister.”

We didn’t have half the problems the other drivers did getting to the track. Being the new comers and relatively unknown the four of us just walked over to the track. The guards let us in after we showed our passes and ids. I thought that one guard was going to flip when he found out that Beth and I were two of the newest drivers on the circuit. Tony broke off from us when we got to our area in the garages. Beth, me and Kelly, headed for the women’s locker room. Tony headed over to the guys locker room. I took my time and got myself in the right headspace for today. The final practice this morning followed by a warmup then qualifying. I put in the earbuds of my I-pod and hit play. I let my mind drift out towards the track. I go over every turn in my head as I listen to my race-mix.

Turn 1 is a tight righthander with turn 2 being a quick jog back to the left followed by the first straightaway. The temptation to open up the engine is going to be a bitch to fight, but I need to keep my foot out of the gas here. Turn 3 comes up fast and is a hard righthander with turn 4 immediately thereafter. I let the car slide over to the curb. I need the room here as it is one of the few places on the course where you can pass. It’s a short jog straightaway to turn 5 a reasonable righthander but little room to make a move. I know that this is only sector one, but it’ll still be a royal bitch to screw up here blowing the race.

Sector two starts off with a quick turn 6-7 chicane. Turn 8 is a long righthander followed by a sharp ninety to the right for turn 9. The exit of 9 is straight into turn 10. Turn 10 is an easy lefthander that exits into the last straightaway before sector three. Sector three is when it starts to get fun for me.

It starts off with a very quick turn 11-12 chicane an area I can’t let my guard down in. Turn 12 exits out onto a winding straightaway that I can use for passing. If I time it right, if not it’s the grass for sure. The straightaway ends with a hard-ninety-degree righthand turn. Turn 13 opens up to a short straightaway to dumps into turn 14. A wide turn that gives plenty of room for passing. But it has to be done quick because turn 15 is like a rattlesnake strike. It comes out of nowhere and is a hairpin lefthanded turn. The g’s in this area are a real bitch and the car wants to slide to the righthand side of the track. Pulling out of turn 15 it’s a short shot to another righthander for turn 16. Turn 16 empties out onto the final straightaway and the start/finish line. It’s here that will be my last chance to make a sure but clean pass before the finish line.

“HEY! BOBBIE!” I snap out of my thoughts by Cassy shouting at me. “Time for the final practice get out here already.”

I grabbed my gloves and helmet then headed outside. I’m still getting used to the feel of the new team leathers. I would have preferred to wear my old ones, but the ‘bosses’ over at Mercedes-Benz ordered these new ones just for this season. As I approach the car I notice that Chief Hailee had a disgusted look on his face. That could mean only one thing. We were having to use a new type of tire. That was one rule that I was REALLY starting to hate.

Ever since the rule for F1 tires in 2016 was changed, the regulations allow Pirelli to select three different tires for each race, and each team could only choose the tires from those three depending on the strategies. This concept continued into 2017, but with Pirelli's thicker and wider tires that were tested extensively the previous year.

Tire selections are announced over a month before each event, with the rules stating Pirelli must announce compounds 9 weeks before a European round and 15 weeks before a long-haul event. Drivers ordinarily get to select 10 of the 13 sets available for a race weekend, though Pirelli's new tires means the Italian company will force each driver to stick to the same allocations for the first five races as it learns about the new tires.

I don’t mind helping a company learn about their product but when it can hamper my ability to perform that rubs me the wrong way, especially if it can give a competitor the edge in a race. I’m not throwing any stones here. I’m just saying that the Italian teams are their home team. Pirelli is an Italian based company. National pride can blind one to honest competition.

What that means for me is that for the opening five races is I started off with seven sets of the softest compound, four sets of the middle compound and two sets of the hardest compound available. I’ve already torn up 3 sets of the softest compound tires during practice yesterday. Basically, I’m down to just 10 sets tires for final practice, qualifying, and the race tomorrow. Not a good situation. Time to face the music. “How bad is it Chief Hailee?”

“Let’s just say that this is one time I wish you had gone with a NASCAR team, Bobbie. That or an Indy car team.” He placed his hand on the left front tire. “This set of tires are from the middle compound. I don’t know how the car will handle, Bobbie. You’re going to have to give me a shit load of feedback during the first half of practice. We’ll be switching over to one of the hardest sets for the last half. I know that you don’t want to hear this, but with our tire situation we’re having to do things on the fly here. You might have to qualify on the second set. It’ll depend on how the tires perform.”

I looked at him and smiled. It was my fault that we were in this predicament. “Chief Hailee just give me what you can. I’ll deal with it. I’m the one that got us into this situation, I’ll be the one that gets us out of it. this is nobody’s fault but my own. You and the team have done your parts and done them right. I was the one who screwed the pooch by letting another driver get in my head yesterday. I got my head in the game now. It’s time for me to put up or shut up.”

“About damned time too!” Greg popped off. “You’re better than that Bobbie. Go out there and show them all what you look like when you got your game face on. We’re all behind you.”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed at the stupidity of the situation. Here was one of my old high school’s top athletes giving me a pep talk. Then again Greg Smokes should have been looking at going to one of the top colleges in the US. Instead he’s here working as a member of my pit crew because a pack of delinquents screwed up the chances for my pit crews. Jose Chamberlin and Will Hackney helped me into the driver’s seat as Danny Hailee held my helmet and gloves. Once I was strapped in Danny double checked the harness and handed me my I-pod. I tucked it down inside my suit after connecting it into the radio. I put ear pug/phones in and reached for my gloves. With everything in place, I put on my helmet then signaled for the engine start.

I feel more than hear the massive turbocharged 1.6-litre V6 engine turn over. I can already tell that the demon is pulling at its leash just wanting to tear into its prey. I as rollout of the garage I have to fight the urge to drop the hammer. Even as I pullout onto the track I kept control over my emotions, and my car. I take my time with the first lap just getting a feel for the car with the new type of tire. By the time I’ve made my seventh lap I can tell that the middle compound tires are going to be best for the second half of the race. Unless it rains tonight then the softer tires were going to be the way to go. I finished the first half of the practice and pulled into the pits like Chief Hailee wanted.

One point nine-eight seconds later I was on my back out onto the track with a set of the hardest tires. I knew right away that I would only used this set as a last resort. The car handled like a stagecoach and rode like a cement truck with a full load. I gave Chief Hailee all the feedback I could on the way the car handled. It wasn’t until the fifth lap on the new tires that the handling came back. Chief Marks figured out what was going on faster than Hailee or me. The hotter the tires got the better they gripped the track. Unlike with the tires from yesterday or the ones from earlier these don’t heat up as fast. The whole trick to using these tires is going to be timing. Timing and a whole lot of strategy.

When I pulled in at the end of practice I knew that both Beth and me would qualify somewhere in the middle of the pack. We just had to go out there and drive the way WE know how. The track was getting faster and loser the hotter it got. The hotter it got the more rubber got laid down in the turns. This was both good and bad. So long as the temperature continued to rise, and it doesn’t rain we should be able to turnout some really fast qualifying times. On the other hand, the hotter the track gets the slicker the surface will become. Making the handling of the cars that much harder in the corners and a real bitch going into the straightaways. It’s a trade off between speed and handling. The hotter the track the faster you can go, but the faster you go the harder it is to corner.

As I climb out the car Chief Hailee gives me a smile. “You did good out there Bobbie. You gave us some good feedback on those tires and how they effect the car’s handling. By the way why did you wait until the fourth lap before really getting on the throttle?”

“Those last tires made the car feel like I was trying to drive a stagecoach, Chief. I was bouncing around all over the place and fighting to just keep a straight line. Every corner felt like I was driving a cement truck with a full load. The ass end kept wanting to slide out wide in chicanes. The handling didn’t come back until I hit lap four.” I thought he heard what I told him during the run. Could I have been wrong.

“That’s what we thought. Marks figured it out by the time you and Beth had your third lap on those tires. You girls did real good. Now, go get something to eat, and drink some water. You got an hour before warmup and the start of Q1.” I smiled at Chief Hailee and did as he told me.

Two 18oz bottles of water, a cold Chefs salad, a short trip to the restroom, and I was on my way back to the pits. I was met by mom, and dad halfway back. They weren’t alone. Mr. Gunderson, Mr. Rubbart, Mr. McFeeters, and Mrs. Goldberg were with them. I could tell that something was up by the look in my parents’ eyes. They were worried about something.

“What’s going on mom?”

“I don’t know how to say this Bobbie, so I’ll come straight to the point. Mr. Rubbart and McFeeters have heard about your relationship with Kelly.” The look on mom’s face said it all. They were worried about corporate image. Their companies had clean wholesome family images and the idea of them supporting a lesbian driver didn’t fit that image.

“Let me guess they want to back out of their contracts?” I snarled. Looking over at the two men I wanted to spit in their faces. “Fine. If they don’t have the courage to get with the times, then the hell with them. Right now, I got a race to qualify for. We’ll be just fine without them or their money.”

With that I turned and walked off. As I was walking away I heard Mr. Rubbart start to complain to mom. “She wasn’t even going to hear us. Why didn’t you stop her? It’s not like this is the end of the world. She just needs to understand that there will be time for her to have a love life later on.”

I spotted cold and spun on my heel. I practically charged the man as I got right up in his face. “That’s just it, Mr. Rubbart. I don’t have TIME. I’m living on barrowed time as it is now. I’ve been in remission for four years now. NOT cured remission. My leukemia can return without warning at any time. That is something I deal with every day that I wake up. There is no way in hell that I’m going to put anything on hold just to pacify some corporate suit monkey’s ideal of what is proper for my image.”

“Well said, Miss McGuire. If McFeeters and Rubbart wish to pull out then I will gladly pickup their contracts.” Mrs. Goldberg said with a smile. “GO out there and show these two fools that who you love has nothing to do with the way you drive.”

I looked over at Mrs. Goldberg. “Don’t worry about that Mrs. Goldberg. I fully plan on being in the top ten at the start of the race.” Turning back to McFeeters I snarled. “You can pull your companies support. I don’t need their name on my car. HOWEVER, your private commitment is another story. You back out on that, and I’ll ruin you name. Not only will I spread the word that you welched on a bet, but you did it after pulling your sponsorship. No one will be willing to let you back them after I get done with you.”

Dad started to chuckle at the stunned looks of Mr. McFeeters and Rubbart. “We warned you gentlemen. Bobbie doesn’t take well to people backing of a bet. You fail to keep up your private obligations she will sue the fuck out of your asses, while dragging your names through the mud.”

“Don’t worry Miss McGuire, I’ve never backed out of a bet and I won’t start now. I’ll stand by our agreement.” McFeeters said with a chuckle and a look of admiration for my attitude. “I wish that circumstances were different, and we could openly support your team. But I have to follow the directives of the board. This may be the twenty-first century, but some changes take time. Unfortunately, this is one such situation.”

“Sadly, I agree with my friend, Miss McGuire.” Rubbart sighed. “Don’t worry about our private agreement. I will uphold my end. I just wish that my board of directors weren’t so old fashion. I see you going a long way in this sport. A long way indeed. I imagine that one day you’ll be the Champion.”

“I got one question. How did you find out about me and Kelly?” I asked them both coldly. “We’ve kept our relationship very quiet and out of the public.”

“We both ran background checks as is normal in our business when sponsoring a major contract such as yours. It seems that your relationship with Miss Ringwald is well known in your hometown. That was not the only discrepancy that our P.I.s found. Your mother and father explained the reasons behind those and had us sign nondisclosure agreements.” Rubbart explained with a lopsided smiled before continuing. “I read over those agreements and they are iron clad. Only a fool will try breaking them.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. If my secret got out, my career as a driver would be over in the blink of an eye. “Thank you, gentlemen.”

I thought about the way they were handling the matter and had an idea. “Mr. Rubbart, Mr. McFeeters, have you ever heard that old Jim Croce song ‘You don’t mess around with Jim’?” Both men just chuckled and nodded their heads. “Every sport needs its bad boy or girl. I’ll play the part as the newcomer bad girl giving you the needed excuse to pull out of your backing in public, meanwhile you continue to support my sister. Everybody saves face and my secret stays my secret along with my love life.”

Mrs. Goldberg chuckled. “You do know how that song ends, Bobbie?”

“Sure. You don’t tug on Superman’s cape. You don’t spit into the wind. You don’t pull the mask off that ol’ Lone Ranger and you don’t mess around with Slim.” I sang for her with a smile. “Only I have no intention of playing the part of Jim. I plan on being the wildcard on every track I race.”

Mrs. Goldberg chuckled even harder. “I fully believe that you will make quite a name for yourself, Roberta. My only question is, are you willing to truly play the part of the bad girl?”

I just chuckled. “Haven’t you heard? I’ve already earned a reputation as a real hothead. It won’t take much to play it up with the press.”

“Just don’t play it up too much.” McFeeters warned me. At my questioning look he smiled. “We may not support you publicly Bobbie, but I can swing a behind the scenes deal with no problem. After all, we’re sponsoring MRDI, not just a single driver. I can sell that to the board.”

“Done deal, Mr. McFeeters. Now if you’ll excuse me. I need to get ready for Qualifying.” As I turned to walk away I smiled. “You’ll want to get a good seat. Because I plan to show the WORLD what a South Carolina redneck gal can do when she puts her mind to it.”

I grabbed Beth as I walked passed her pit area. “Have you heard what is going down with our sponsors Beth?”

“Yeah, they were by here earlier. Look Bobbie, I don’t know how you feel about it, but if they won’t sponsor you then to hell with them. We can do this on our own. I know that we can win enough races to cover our expenses.”

“Relax, Beth. I made a new deal with them.” I gave her a smile that never reached my eyes. “You just drive the way we planned.”

“What are you up to, Bobbie?”

“Let’s just say that I’ll be living up to old Iron Panties expectation of me. I’m going to be a real ‘bad girl’ on the tracks.” I started to giggle at the look on Beth’s face. “I’m going to show them all what a TRUE daughter of the Confederacy can do on a race track.”

“Lee may have surrendered, but we started the war. Is that it, Bobbie?” Beth asked with a smile. “Just remember that being the bad girl has its draw backs. The other drivers will be gunning for you.”

“Let ‘em come, Beth. Let ‘em come.” I snarled. “Like I said this morning. Let them worry about me. You drive for the checkered.”

Beth gave me a quick hug. “I’ll watch your back as best that I can Bobbie.”

I returned the hug. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Pulling back, I gave her a wink. “Besides, I’m the one painting the target on my back. No one else is putting it there.”

I hugged her one more time. Then headed for my car. It was time for warm-up and qualifying. The warm-up went without problems both Beth and I brought in a decent time. During the first qualifying both Beth and I brought in times just microseconds apart after just eight laps. Beth made the first with a time of one minute, twenty-three, point eight-three-nine seconds. I barely beat her at one minute, twenty-three, point eight-three-three seconds. I got more than a little joy over the time that Fontana put up. He barely made the field with a qualifying time of one minute, twenty-five point one-eight seconds. As much as I wanted to gloat I knew that I couldn’t. I knew that we had the second and third round to go yet.

It was during the second round of qualifying or Q2 that I started to earn my bad girl reputation. More than a few of the other drivers found out what is was like to have someone riding their ass end. I know that tailgating was a sure-fire way to get on another driver’s nerves. That was one lesson I learned from watching Dale ‘the Intimidator’ Earnhardt videos. I knew that if I was going to pull off the bad girl he would be my role model. If I can make them uncomfortable on the track all the better for Beth and me.

At the end of Q2 Beth landed solidly in sixth place with a time of one minute, twenty-three, point three seconds after fourteen laps. This time she beat my time by a full two-one-hundredths of a second. She was also three positions in front of me. If I was going to be of any help for her during the race, I need to move up at least two positions during Q3.

We pushed our cars to their limits for the next five laps. I knew that we were on the edge of the top five already, but I wanted the pole. So, when I saw the driver for Toyota spinout coming through turn eight I dropped the hammer. I blew passed him before the yellow could come out. The one to two second mistake on his part was more than enough to clinch our places in the top five positions. Chief Hailee and Marks were practically dancing in the pits when we pulled in at the end of Q3.

I hadn’t even gotten my harness undone good before Hailee was practically lifting out of my seat. “Way to go Bobbie girl! I’ve seen drivers in my time that couldn’t have done half as well as you girl. What the hell did you do to Caldera out there? How the hell did you get him to spinout like that?”

I started to laugh. “I had nothing to do with that. He did all on his own. I swear to god.”

“Bullshit! He was bitching over the radio about you crowding his ass end.” Danny cracked just before the very driver he was talking about stormed into our pit area screaming for my blood.

“Where’s that fucking cunt? I want her god damned head.” I turned to look at the man and just smiled.

“You mean me? Or are you yelling for your mama?” I know that I’m pushing things with the joker right now. It’s not my fault he lost it on the track.

“WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!” the man screamed and started to come at me. Only to find the Four Horsemen stepping in his way. “Get out of my way!”

Danny looked him dead in the face. “Buddy boy, if I was you I would runaway before you get hurt. Hurt bad, understand?”

The driver looked passed Danny and the guys over at me. “If I was you little girl, I would watch you back out there on the track. You keep making enemies out there and sooner or later someone is going to make you pay.”

The members from the other pit crew walked up behind the asshole. Tony placed his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Walk away now. This is your only warning.”

The driver got the hint and left our area in a hurry. I looked over at Chief Hailee. “Who was that shithead?”

“That Bobbie was the shmuck who went spinning out of control in turn six just before you blew past him. One Ricardo Caldera, driver for Toyota motorsports. And number one asshole behind the bullshit that has been going in the pit area. Well, him and his team.” Danny said from behind me.

“If he thinks I was riding his ass this afternoon. Wait until tomorrow.” I snarled. “These shitbirds only think they’ve seen intimidation on the track. They haven’t seen shit yet.”

Chief Marks gave me a cold eye before asking with a chuckle in his voice. “Wreck or win, Bobbie?”

“You know it Chief Marks.” I never took my eyes off of where Caldera stormed off to. “Him and all of these morons haven’t a clue as to what they just pissed off. I plan on introducing them to Intimidator driving.”

“Just make sure you don’t get the half black, half white flag. We don’t need you getting nailed for unsporting behavior. That or a flat-out black flag. We need you to complete the race more than driving the other drivers into the wall.” Chief Marks warned me.

“I hear you Chief Marks. Trust me I hear you loud and clear.” What I didn’t tell him was that I had my reasons for pushing the edge. I took the bottle of water that Roger handed me and took a long drink from it. “By the way where did Beth place?”

“She placed right in front of you Bobbie. You girls are going to be on the third row. She qualified fifth while you took sixth. There was less than a one-one-hundredth of a second between your times.” Chief Hailee said with some pride as he held up his clipboard. “Beth’s time was one minute, twenty-two point one-five-five seconds. You crossed the line at one minute, twenty-two point one-five-six seconds. Like I said you girls did one hell of a job out there today. Now we need to debrief the team and then you, and Beth have that press conference back at the hotel.”

For the next hour and half, we went over how the car handled in each turn on the different tire compounds. We went over how to adjust the wings and stabilizers for the race. We went into the way the car handled in every turn and on each straightaway. Nothing was left on the table. I know that both Beth and I would have continued to discuss strategy with the teams. But we had a stupid press conference to attend.

After a quick stop back at my room for a shower and change of clothes I head downstairs for the press conference. I was wishing that Kelly could be with me, but she had her own job to do in the pits. For the next hour Beth and I answered questions thrown at us by every reporter who had not meet us on Wensday night. When we finally got away from the vultures both Beth and I headed for our rooms to change and clean up one last time.

Mom told us that we had three hours before we had to be across town for a dinner with potential sponsors. This one was setup by Mr. Gunderson to showcase mom and dad’s work. This one was totally about MRDI. For which I’m so happy about that I’m close to dancing naked in the streets. It means that I don’t have to stick around for very long. Once I put in my facetime I plan on slipping out and coming back here to get some sleep. I’ll be honest. I’m dragging ass right now. Between the two practices, warmup, and triple qualifying, I have really pushed myself today. I did one thing for myself once I got back to my room. I grabbed a quick nap.

At a little before five-thirty my alarm went off waking me up. I quickly showered, dressed, did my makeup, and headed down the hall to meet up with Beth. With an hour to go before we had to be at the dinner Beth and I headed over to Castle Berries Stake Emporium. I know that once we leave the hotel we can no longer hide in the background of the weekend. Our performance this afternoon made sure of that. I mean we came out of nowhere and secured the number five and six positions for the start of the race.

Beth just gave me a lopsided smile as she exited her room. “Looking good baby sister. You really pull off that LBD and heels.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” I looked down at the knee length cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline as I took in Beth’s outfit. The ice-blue A-line cocktail dress was off the shoulder and bareback. In short with her coloring and hair the whole thing came together to give her the perfect Queen Elsa look. “You know that they’ll really tag you with Ice Queen now.”

“Fucking let ‘em. After today we’re both going to be hammered on our nicknames. Especially you baby girl. I heard about how you were tailgating the other drivers. I just want to know where you got the Intimidator idea?” I could tell by the look in her eyes Beth already knew. She just wanted me to confirm her suspicions.

“The way I see it Beth I could go one of two routes. Follow two of the greatest NASCAR drivers or one of the most hated NASCAR drivers. I choose to follow one of the greatest. Dale ‘the Intimidator’ Earnhardt Sr. won seven championships by going out there and scaring the shit out of the other drivers. The way I figure it, the best way to protect my secret is to go out there and drive as hard, as fast, as mean, as I can.” I started to giggle at the look on Beth’s face. “Like dad always says. Driving in ninety percent mental, five percent physical, and five percent preparation. Screw with the other guy’s mind enough and you’ll win. All I did today was to screw with their minds by riding their asses.”

“Well, from what I was hearing in the other garage areas. You definitely drove the point home not to screw with MRDI.” Beth leaned in a hugged me. “If I didn’t know that you had such a big heart little sister, you would scare the crap out of me on the track.”

“Let’s keep that under your hat sis. No need to let the competition know that I got a soft spot. Just do me a favor tonight.” I asked of Beth.

“What’s that?”

“Do not leave me alone, PLEASE!” I pleaded with her as I pulled down on the hem of my dress.

-----tbc-----