Page 28
Story: Royal Rebel
He whistles. “I have a feeling I know you better than you think I do.”
I hope so, but I don’t voice the words. I don’t want to scare him. When feelings are involved, the weirdest things can set off fear.
He slows down like he’s preparing to turn, and that’s when I see it.
It’s a racetrack in the middle of nowhere. A car sits at the start/finish line.
“Tristan, what is this?”
“I know how much you love speed. I thought it would be awesome if you could have some of your own.”
My heart races. “I’m gonna get to drive?”
“You’re gonna get to drive.”
I scream loudly, so loudly he plugs his finger into his ear. “This is the best thing ever!”
It feels like forever. Pulling into the parking lot, getting out of the Range Rover and walking to the track takes fifty years. A man is waiting for us.
“Tristan.” He holds his hand out.
“How’s it going, Cecile?” He shakes the older man’s hand.
“Not bad at all. We’re excited to be taking some laps around the track.”
“Amelia,” I introduce myself, holding out my hand to him as well.
“You’re the birthday girl.”
“That’s me. What car do I get to drive?” I ask immediately.
He points to a Porsche. I’ve never driven one of thosebefore, and I’m ready to go. “You’ll be getting a few pointers and you’ll be driving with Tristan. He’s very experienced.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I grab his hand in mine.
“I’m good at everything,” he winks at me.
I roll my eyes. “Let’s go.” I pull him toward the car.
He helps me get strapped in, and then goes over to the passenger side. “It’s a stick, do you know how to drive one?”
“Yes.” I clap my hands. “It’s the one thing my dad and brother made sure of. I can change a tire too. You know, just in case I didn’t get to fulfill my prophecy as a queen.”
“Sassy today, I like it.”
“You love it,” I correct him.
“That I do.”
When the car is started, I rev the engine, loving the sound. The vibrations move through the seat.
“Don’t go too fast,” Tristan cautions.
But I want to go as fast as I can. I punch in the clutch, hit the gas and take off with tires squealing. It’s something I’ve never done before, and the excitement courses through my body. My hands shake as I grip the steering wheel.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I yell at him.
I’m not even sure why I’m yelling. It’s not like this is a stock car and it’s loud as we’re going around the track.
I hope so, but I don’t voice the words. I don’t want to scare him. When feelings are involved, the weirdest things can set off fear.
He slows down like he’s preparing to turn, and that’s when I see it.
It’s a racetrack in the middle of nowhere. A car sits at the start/finish line.
“Tristan, what is this?”
“I know how much you love speed. I thought it would be awesome if you could have some of your own.”
My heart races. “I’m gonna get to drive?”
“You’re gonna get to drive.”
I scream loudly, so loudly he plugs his finger into his ear. “This is the best thing ever!”
It feels like forever. Pulling into the parking lot, getting out of the Range Rover and walking to the track takes fifty years. A man is waiting for us.
“Tristan.” He holds his hand out.
“How’s it going, Cecile?” He shakes the older man’s hand.
“Not bad at all. We’re excited to be taking some laps around the track.”
“Amelia,” I introduce myself, holding out my hand to him as well.
“You’re the birthday girl.”
“That’s me. What car do I get to drive?” I ask immediately.
He points to a Porsche. I’ve never driven one of thosebefore, and I’m ready to go. “You’ll be getting a few pointers and you’ll be driving with Tristan. He’s very experienced.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I grab his hand in mine.
“I’m good at everything,” he winks at me.
I roll my eyes. “Let’s go.” I pull him toward the car.
He helps me get strapped in, and then goes over to the passenger side. “It’s a stick, do you know how to drive one?”
“Yes.” I clap my hands. “It’s the one thing my dad and brother made sure of. I can change a tire too. You know, just in case I didn’t get to fulfill my prophecy as a queen.”
“Sassy today, I like it.”
“You love it,” I correct him.
“That I do.”
When the car is started, I rev the engine, loving the sound. The vibrations move through the seat.
“Don’t go too fast,” Tristan cautions.
But I want to go as fast as I can. I punch in the clutch, hit the gas and take off with tires squealing. It’s something I’ve never done before, and the excitement courses through my body. My hands shake as I grip the steering wheel.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I yell at him.
I’m not even sure why I’m yelling. It’s not like this is a stock car and it’s loud as we’re going around the track.
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