Skid by Doug Solter

Author:Doug Solter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: free teen action books, teen sports fiction, teen sports romance, young adult romance sports, young adult romance drama, teen romance novels, teen books free, formula 1
Publisher: Doug Solter
Published: 2012-05-06T04:00:00+00:00

Later that day, the crew kidnaps me to a large pub in Silverstone. The warm glow from the lamps brings out the polished wood floors and walls and the beautiful woodwork on the bar and shelves. Several different rooms crisscross the place, and inside one of the larger ones, I nurse a glass of beer. The crew gets drunk around me as I lean my head against Manny who struggles to keep pace with the crew and is failing. I yawn a few times. I'm tired and don’t really like my first taste of beer. But I don't have the heart to leave the guys and spoil their celebration.

I see Jonathan drinking alone. My teammate catches me staring, and I flash him a warm smile.

The Scotsman downs his glass of beer and weaves his way out of the pub.

What was that all about? Jonathan hasn’t said anything to me since the race. I mean, we're teammates, right? I would give him tons of congrats if he won. Whatever.

A cheer goes up as Mr. Wolert enters and greets the crew. He finds a seat next to us.

“Drinking a little bit are we, Nephew?” he asks.

Manny drowns in beer. “No, Uncle. Not an outrageous amount.”

“Let's make this one your last.”

Manny frowns.

Mr. Wolert smiles at me. “Young lady, that was a brilliant move on the restart. The pass at Copse was breathtaking too. I must be honest. When you crossed the finish line, I had tears in my eyes. Really, I did.”

“Seriously?” I ask.

Mr. Wolert softens. “Do you know how long I've been waiting for my first victory? It was my father who built this team from scratch. The awards you see in my office belong to his dedicated work.” He reaches for Manny's glass. “May I?”

Manny nods.

His uncle enjoys the beer and relaxes. “As a boy, I remember pushing my toy race cars across the concrete floor of my father's garage and pretending I was Graham Hill. I would build my own circuits using wood pencils that I arranged into various patterns on the floor. Those were such wonderful times.” The old man loses himself in that world and then glances at me. “You kids don't know who Graham Hill is, do you?”

“I know who he is.” I really shouldn’t lie. But I don’t wanna change that happy look on his face.

Mr. Wolert smiles. “If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. This team is a family. Yes, a family. And I want you to consider yourself our daughter, Samantha.”

Maybe it's the beer. Maybe it's because my family hates me. Maybe it's because I'm homesick. But which ever maybe it is, I hug Mr. Wolert and cry. “Thank you, Mr. Wolert.” I hear myself blubber like a little girl.

Mr. Wolert lets me finish my hug and then pats me on the knee. He leaves us to go visit with the crew.

I wipe my eyes. “Your uncle is so cool. I can't believe how cool he's been to me.”

“It's because you remind him of someone,” Manny says.

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