Over the Wall Read Online Free Page B

him. “Thank you! I can’t believe it!”
    “Wait a minute. That’s the good news. The bad news is that there’s school to contend with—”
    “I can do some kind of independent study. I’ll do homework every night and finish.”
    “Well, hang on. The cost of the school is covered, but living expenses aren’t. Students pay for the hotel and food.”
    “How much?” Jamie said.
    He told her.
    “That shouldn’t be a problem if I can sell the car.”
    Her dad ran a hand through his hair. “I guess that’s your choice. It’s your car. But there’s one other problem. A big one.”
    “What?”
    “Your mother.”
    Jamie’s heart fell. “She has to know this is a great opportunity. Once in a lifetime.”
    “Yeah, she’s a smart woman. She knows this is about the best thing that could ever happen to a young driver who wants to move up.”
    “So what’s the problem?”
    “Letting go of you.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re growing up. It’s one thing to drive you to some track and sit on the infield and watch you run. But having you go away like this means you’re going to be out of here someday. Soon.”
    Jamie laughed. “I have another year of high school. I’m not going anywhere.”
    Her dad put a hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’re a rocket and your fuse is lit. It’s only a matter of time before you blast off.”
    “What do I do?”
    “Go talk to her.”

Chapter 7
Family, Faith, and a Fast Car
    TIM TOOK A WALK to the nearby convenience store. The only thing worse than listening to Tyson and Vera fight was listening to them fight while they brought groceries in from the truck. Vera didn’t like Tyson opening stuff on the way home, and it always led to some kind of quarrel, so Tim tried to be gone when they got home.
    At the store Tim bought a bottle of soda, a king-size Snickers bar, and a copy of NASCAR Scene . He sat on the sidewalk outside, flipping through the pages of race results, point standings, and pictures.
    Toward the back, after the news about the top drivers, was a picture of Dale Maxwell standing by an old barn. In the background was a house—out of focus and fuzzy. He had his arm around his wife, a pretty woman with long redhair, and his kids, Kellen and Jamie, were beside them. Tim recognized Jamie from the Daytona coverage when she had taken over for a sick spotter.
    “Family, Faith, and a Fast Car” was the title of the article. It detailed Dale Maxwell’s current sponsor problems and described him as a “devoted husband and father first” and a NASCAR driver second.
    That’s probably why he’s got sponsor problems , Tim thought. He ought to put his racing first.
    “Some people say God and racing don’t mix,” Maxwell said. “I can’t imagine climbing into the cockpit of a race car and not believing in God.”
    Great, Tim thought. I’m moving in with a gang of Christians.
    The article went on to talk about Maxwell’s record of “clean driving,” his philosophy of racing (“When you cross the finish line first, act like you’ve been there before”), and his devotion to his kids. “Racing is a family affair with us. We’ve chosen to send the kids to a public school and let them have a ‘normal life,’ but we wouldn’t do this if everybody didn’t enjoy it. I’d rather flip burgers or change oil and have a close family life than win every race and lose my kids.”
    An old beater of a car pulled in to the gas station as Tim looked through the rest of the newspaper. He kept coming back to the Maxwell page. From traveling with his dad he’d known plenty of guys who werenice when you first met them but turned out to be snakes. Was this Maxwell guy just a good talker, or did he actually live the words he spoke?
    “Guess I’ll find out soon,” Tim said out loud.
    He was engrossed in his reading and didn’t notice anyone behind him until the silhouette of someone’s head blocked the light. He turned and saw three pairs of tennis shoes