There-there looks to be a problem with the car. “Our reigning champion, William Wolfe, is set to take home the trophy again. I get that excited feeling in my stomach like I always do when I see him racing, and I start jigging on the spot. “And he’s set to do it! Coming in on the final lap!”Īt the sound of the announcer’s voice, I look up at the screens and see that my dad is on the last lap, leading and heading for the finish line. I love cars.Īnd Dad says I can do anything I want as long as I put my mind to it and work hard in school. I think she’d be happy if I did what she used to-be a model.īut I’m not into pretty things like her. Mum doesn’t say it, but I know she doesn’t want me to work on cars, and she definitely won’t want me to race. Mum gets mad though when I get it on my clothes, but I don’t care. I love when Uncle John lets me work on the cars with him, and I get all covered in oil and dirt. He’s my dad’s best friend and my godfather. He’s not my real uncle, but I always call him that. I want to race like Dad does or maybe even be a mechanic like Uncle John. I won’t have time for boys when I’m older.

Apparently, he’s going to keep a cricket bat by the front door to beat away any boyfriends I might have. My dad says I look like her, too, and that he’s in for a nightmare when I grow up. I wish I were small and petite, like the other girls in my class.Įveryone says that I look just like my mum though, which is a nice thing because she’s the most beautiful person in the world. I’m ten and taller than most of the boys in my class. She used to be a model, but she gave it up when she had me. She’s really beautiful, my mum, and very tall. I smile up at her, trying to make her feel better.

I wriggle my fingers a little as they start to feel funny. He’s the champion, and he’s about to be the champion again. I don’t get nervous, ever, simply because my dad is the best driver in the world. I don’t know why she gets nervous though. I know she gets nervous, so I let her squish the life out of my hand because I know holding it makes her feel better. She always does this when Dad’s racing, but I don’t mind. She looks worried, and she’s holding my hand tight.

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