“Third gear! Third gear!” Caleb jumped up onto the edge of the barrier and waved the clipboard madly. The orange car was entering the fourth turn, making fast time on the last couple of laps.
    Caleb watched the car’s positioning. The back wheels were grinding too much on the asphalt. “Back off, Jack!” Caleb yelled.
   Static crackled through his earpiece, then, “I thought you told me more brakes!”
The orange streak jerked forward as Jack lifted off the brakes. It banked towards the shoulder briefly before smoothing into the apex. “Yeah, but not yet!” Caleb shouted back, “On my word.”
   A plume of smoke grinded beneath the wheels as Jack entered the halfway point. The car had rotated a nice forty-five degrees and was pushing towards a clean ninety. Caleb swept up the binoculars at his chest, watching closely.
   “Now?” Jack yelled.
Caleb counted the seconds. One-one. One-two…“Now!”
   A startled yelp filtered through the static. The back of No. 34 swung out with a mind of its own. Jack cursed through the channel, struggling to maintain control.
   One-three. One-four. “Lift off and then tap the gas!”
Jack grunted his compliance. His car jerked into a faster back spin, losing the apex for a moment, and then sped forward as the gas pedal was punched. No. 34 realigned with the apex. Jack whooped as his car exited the turn to fly down the front stretch.
   Caleb grinned at his enthusiasm and pinched his stop watch. 00:02:041. “Two tenths off, Jack! Let’s hit two more laps! I want to see you confident with those turns.”
   The youngest driver of his team shouted his agreement back. Caleb could hear his shouts of celebration in the cockpit. “All eyes on me! All eyes on me!”
  “How do you know that song?” Caleb asked.
He laughed as Jack went into the crasser parts of Tupac’s All Eyez On Me, busting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs. Abruptly, the headphone connection clicked off, and Caleb was doused in radio silence. He could hear the muffled sound of the car ripping around the tracks, but Jack’s jubilant singing had gone. “What the—”
   The headphones pooled around his neck with a tug. Caleb turned to see a familiar face smiling back at him. “How’s the rookie doing?” Kara asked.
   Grinning, Caleb handed the clipboard to her. “He’s down to a 40.305 average. I can’t believe how fast he can punch that accelerator. He jumps out of those turns going 75. 75!”
   “But his turns are still killing his time, aren’t they?” Kara mused, “Or is that what you guys are working on?”
She flipped through the clipboard, examining his splits. Caleb took a moment to reposition his headphones. Jack’s voice came through as soon as he clicked on. “What are you doin’ over there? I just did two turns on my own. I thought we were working here!”
   Caleb winced as the sound nearly shredded his eardrums. “Sorry, Jack. Kara came over and—”
“I know! I saw her!” the rookie answered. “Can’t you even focus for a second when she’s around? You’re gonna screw up tomorrow if your eyes are glued to the pits the whole time!”
   Caleb clapped a hand over the earpiece and glanced at the girl beside him. Kara seemed not to have noticed, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Stepping a bit to the left, he cupped a hand around the microphone. “Shut-up! She’s right next to me, idiot!”
     Jack snorted. “Like she doesn’t already know.”
“She doesn’t!”
      “Sure…”
Caleb shot a nervous glance in Kara’s direction. She looked up from the clipboard as he did so, as if feeling his eyes on her. Caleb smiled nervously. Clearing his throat, he turned his eyes back to the track and spoke his next directions firmly. “Five more laps, rookie. I want a four-flat on the next turn.”
   Jack sputtered across the channel. He cursed after a couple moments, growled, then muttered something that sounded like “I’ll show you four-flat.”
   His engine revved at the other side of the track. Caleb grinned and headed back over to Kara.
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“Quit it! I can get out by myself!” Jack asserted.
    Caleb let go of the boy’s arm and left him to struggle out of the cockpit. The agitated rookie managed to pull his body through, but got his right foot caught in the net. Caleb snickered as Jack hopped on one leg. He went forward too quickly at one point and went face first to the ground, left leg still stuck inside the car. “Ow!”
  Kara burst into laughter beside him. “Keep him there for a second!” she guffawed, “I have to get a picture.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her blue arrow phone.
   “No!” Jack protested, “NO PICTURES!”
Caleb rushed forward to hold him down. Jack pushed himself up, fighting hard against Caleb’s weight. He only succeeded in rubbing more tar across the front of his jumpsuit. “Come on, man!”
   The automated sound of a shutter sounded, followed by Kara’s laughter. Caleb released Jack and stood up, joining Kara. “Look.” She brought up the picture of Jack on her phone. “Isn’t it great? We could send this in for his starting picture.”
   Caleb laughed at the prospect of seeing Jack’s embarrassing blunder on the Jumbotron. “That would be great! Seriously, can we put that through?”
   Jack finally pulled his foot from the car. “No, we can’t! If you put that through, I swear, I’ll kill you.” He stomped off, turning back once to point a finger at Caleb. “And your little secret? Out, if you don’t delete that picture right now.”
   Caleb laughed at Jack’s retreating form. Without a doubt, the rookie was a pleasant addition of energy to the team this year. His skill and optimism had fueled them through a number of rough points in the season. They always had to watch his temper, though. He had a real mean streak in that otherwise smiley character of his.
    “What secret?”
Going quiet, Caleb turned to Kara and swallowed. She was frowning at him, red eyebrows drawn into an expression of confusion. His heart sped up for a few beats.
    “Nothing,” he assured her. “Just a stupid inside joke, that’s all.”
He distracted himself by tethering the net of Jack’s car back into place. Kara accepted his explanation, but Caleb knew she was sure to ask him about it later. She went to work at the fender, taking a grease rag to the exhaust.
  Their casual bit of mutual silence ended as Kara’s phone rang. “Hello?”
Caleb stood up from loosening the gnuts on the car’s tires. Kara’s face had lit up in excitement. She looked towards him with an expression of pure glee and began running back towards the track. Caleb ditched his wrench and followed after her. “What’s happening?”
   “Your car’s ready!” Kara shouted back.
Caleb stopped for a moment. Really? He switched to a run, following Kara up the sidetrack to the main track with uncontrolled excitement.
    He’d totally busted the engine a couple of days ago trying to push his car against Jack’s little hot rod. Number 47 didn’t run quite as fast as the other cars on the team. Switching over to the classic wheels—a long story—had taken a harsh toll on Caleb’s first class, hydrogen-fueled car.
   The damage had been horrible. Engine fried and tires shredded. His bumper had clipped the fence and the body had ripped off the right front. Rajeev, the team’s head mechanic, had literally cried at the sight of the bedraggled No. 47. And then, while digging his hands through pools of bloody grease, Rajeev had birthed an idea.
   Doodling away at the dusty white board in the shop, he’d drawn the most beautiful, most perfect plan of an engine Caleb had ever seen. “It’ll deliver hydrogen to the carburetor three times as fast, if my calculations are correct,” he’d announced.
   Caleb was thrilled. If his car went as fast as Rajeev predicted, they had a fair chance in winning the event tomorrow. Their team was seated second, right behind the Sydney team. The Australians were fast; their relay time bested Caleb’s team by an entire half-minute. If the Miami team was to win, they needed to drop some serious seconds.
    Everyone had worked hard to shorten their leg of the race. Lance and David dropped three seconds each by decreasing their front stretch times. Jen demolished her fear of the accelerator and shaved off four. Jack, who already had a fantastic split, blasted off seven. Even so, that only put them down seventeen, meaning they required another thirteen-second drop to even tie with the Sydney team.
   Caleb managed to take off six with a bit of technical adjustments. He was hoping the new engine would help him remove another few, but that was just stretching it. Tomorrow was no man’s land.
   “Oh my God, Caleb! It’s so beautiful!” Kara exclaimed.
He jogged the last couple of steps to the top of the incline. When his gaze alighted upon his car, Caleb could only stand there slack-jawed, awed at the sight. “Wow.”
   Rajeev stood at the bumper, smiling widely. “Everything went very well. I think you will be very pleased with the result.”
   Caleb moved forward slowly. The old, gaudy turquoise color was gone, replaced with a bright red that emanated a feeling of pure awesomeness. Rajeev had removed all the plastic surgery advertisements as well. Colorful M&M ads were instead spread across the paint. He loved M&Ms.
   “Rajeev, she’s so beautiful. I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
  Kara was running her fingertips across the paintwork, delighting in the new look. “Don’t say anything! Let’s just go for a drive!”
   Caleb looked to Rajeev for affirmation. The mechanic looked a bit apprehensive, but nodded his head anyway. “Be careful,” he advised, “I might have to adjust the delivery a bit in case it’s too much. If you smell smoke, stop immediately.”
   Kara pulled down the net and gestured for him to get in. Caleb hopped inside and made to close the net, but Kara’s foot got in the way. “Ah-ah-ah!”
    “What? What are you doing?” Caleb questioned.
  Kara lowered her head so her face was level with his. “I said ‘let’s,’ right? I’m going with you, dummy. Make some room.”
    “Make some room?” he repeated, “There isn’t any room, Kara! There’s one seat in here. One! Not two, not three—one! No room for you, babe.”
  She frowned at him. “Don’t call me babe. I’m coming with you.” And with that, she shoved her feet over the side, slid onto his lap, and repositioned the net.
   Caleb held his hands at his sides, spluttering. What was going on? “Kara!”
“DRIVE!”
  Eyes widening, he found the shifter by touch and yanked it back. His other hand grasped the steering wheel tightly, keeping the wheels pointed forward. The car rolled forward a couple feet. Caleb found the pedals with his feet and stomped down on the gas. Kara immediately slammed back into him, narrowly missing his nose with the back of her head.
    “Move your head to the side!” he ordered. “I can’t see anything!”
   She complied, and Caleb finally got an unobstructed view of the track. He rotated the wheel to the right a bit to center them better. The engine hummed like a charm, sounding the best he’d ever heard. The gurgling cough he’d occasionally heard before was gone, replaced by this clean tune.
   Caleb could feel a difference in the entire car. The balance had improved magnificently, and he could tell that the switch to hydrogen had really lightened the weight. They pushed past 200 mph before entering even the first turn.
  Kara whooped in front of him. “Yeah! We’re flyin’!”
Caleb felt the rush of his car as if it were his own body speeding across the track. He decided to show off a little. As they whipped into the first turn, he came down hard on the brakes and simultaneously swung the wheel a nice one-eighty. Kara screamed as the car pitched ever-so-slightly. A fraction of a second later, the car streaked into its new direction and Caleb switched gears.
    A quick glance told him they clocked at about 215. He whooped as loudly as Jack had earlier and drummed his fingers on the wheel. Kara smacked his knee for scaring her, but was laughing moments later. No. 47 whipped around the tracks at least six times before they smelled smoke. Caleb was grinning from ear-to-ear throughout the whole experience, feeling more and more confident about the race tomorrow with each additional lap.
   They were going to win.
Even the small engine problem couldn’t deter his optimism. Rajeev and Kara, bent over the smoking contraption, stared at him strangely as he grinned to himself. “You’re pretty weird to begin with, but that look on your face is creeping me out,” Kara commented.
     “Sorry. I’m just….happy.” It felt strange to say it out loud, to admit how much he was enjoying himself lately. Caleb tucked his hands into his pockets and turned towards the track. Stray rays of the setting sun doused the asphalt in orange. The stadium lights would click on in a few minutes and expel the soothing scene, so Caleb took a moment to enjoy it.
   A tug on his sleeve found his attention. “Here, I think you should have this.”
  Caleb took the piece of paper Kara handed him and unfolded it. It wasn’t just paper, he found, but a photograph of him. It was taken a couple months ago, before they met. One of the millions of tabloid pictures from the days of his “Zed Mercury” alias. Boy, was that a dumb name. His hair was still blue at the time, a giant, manicured mess of turquoise. His car, a matching shade of blue, was parked behind him. He was posed leaning against the bumper, a cocky smile on his lips.
   “I thought it would be a good reminder of how you’ve changed,” she explained, “You’ve made a lot of good improvements, Caleb. You should be proud.”
  Caleb agreed. For one, his hair was no longer that nasty shade. He’d let the dye fade from it, allowing its darker natural color to emerge. He hadn’t lost his cockiness—that would never fade. But he’d reacquainted himself with a bit of humbleness and generosity that his years in the limelight had washed away. He’d become a leader, a leader of a successful, incredible team of drivers. They could win the final tomorrow, if things went well.
  “Thanks, Kara.”
Caleb turned and glanced at No. 47. The red color was actually very significant to him, as Rajeev only knew. He’d confided to the mechanic about his true favorite color a few weeks ago. Before he hit the big leagues, Caleb had always driven a red car. Red was his color. Passionate. Mean. Dangerous. But blue had been better for publicity, according to his agents.
  He couldn’t wait to show the new—really the old—look to the world. They would either hate it or love it. Either way, he couldn’t care less. He liked the change, and wouldn’t go back on it for anything.
   “What’s the secret?”
Caleb turned to Kara, not surprised at her question. He’d known she’d be asking sooner or later. “If we win tomorrow, I’ll tell you,” he responded.
   She pursed her lips. Flipping a lock of red hair over her shoulder, she stomped indignantly. “Fine. I guess I can wait. But you better not chicken out, McGuire.”
   She knew. “I never have before, have I?”
Kara raised an eyebrow. “There’s a first time for everything.”
“Well, I’m a consistent guy, so you won’t have to worry about that, will you?”
“I hope not.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t.”