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dark, wavy hair and an attitude twice his height.
    â€œI see you know the fastest girl in the school,” Kenny said, nodding toward Jamie. He was taller and wore wraparound sunglasses to every class meeting. “Fastest behind the wheel, that is.”
    â€œWe’re old pals from way back,” Chad said. Then he added, “She’s telling me there’s not much competition here.”
    Jamie’s mouth flew open. “That’s—I never said anything like that!”
    â€œThat’s okay,” Roger said. “Bud said we’re getting some seat time on the track tomorrow.” He leaned close to Jamie. “I’m thinking you’ll get plenty of time to look at my spoiler.”
    Jamie laughed, but when the two were gone, she fumed at Chad. “Why’d you have to do that? I don’t want to tick these guys off.”
    â€œThey’re just playing with you,” Chad said. “They know how good you are. Probably shaking in their boots because of you. They either want to beat you or ask you out. Maybe both.”
    Jamie blushed. She couldn’t remember Chad ever giving her a true compliment—at least one without all the smarm. Had he changed? Was he just looking for an angle to make her let her guard down so he could push the pedal to the floor and pass her on the inside?
    She put aside their differences for a moment and thought about her friend Cassie Strower. Cassie had said that Chad didn’t need a new car or a win in his next race but a relationship with God. That seemed far-fetched to Jamie. Chad had said he didn’t like going to church and his dad provided everything he needed.
    â€œLet me guess,” Jamie said after taking a drink of soda. “Your dad said if you don’t come here, he won’t fund any more racing for you.”
    Chad snickered. “You’re not just pretty. You got a pretty good head on your shoulders.”
    â€œThanks. I think.”
    â€œB.D. knows he holds the purse strings. I can’t do much of anything without his say-so.”
    â€œYou call your dad B.D.?”
    â€œIt’s a lot better than what my mom calls him.” Chad laughed. “He can be just as hard at home as he can be on the track.”
    â€œSo you’re mad at him for sending you here.”
    â€œHey, he just wants what’s best, right? ‘Honor your father and mother’ and all that junk.”
    Well, he knows at least a little about the Bible, Jamie thought.
    â€œI’ll do whatever it takes to get back out there. If it means coming here and finishing on top to prove I’m good enough, I’ll do it.”
    Chad finished his burger, but Jamie picked at her salad. She had gotten used to being out of Chad’s shadow—at least for a few weeks—and she liked the feeling. Now she was back in it, and she wasn’t sure which she liked more.

Chapter 8
Deep Dish
    THREE WEEKS LATER
    TIM SAT ALONE in the Maxwell Motorsports garage, cleaning tools and watching the Chicago race on a wide-screen TV mounted on the wall above an air compressor. It wasn’t the fanciest setup he’d ever seen, and the garage was small compared to some teams’, but it was still roomy.
    He had to hand it to Maxwell—he’d done the whole racing thing his own way, refusing to work for some big owner with a team of drivers who could throw a lot of money at him. There were pictures on the wall of those days when Dale had done his time on other teams, but when he’d established himself as a top-10 driver, he’d struck out on his own. He’d gone from a front-runner with the best equipment money could buy to a middle-of-the-pack racer. He’d kept hisreputation and was trying to hang on to his family, but he hadn’t won much money. He was the racer a lot of people in the stands cheered for but who knew at the end of the day he’d probably be somewhere other than the winner’s circle.
    That had changed a bit over the past