Everyone wants to be me.
Maybe it's the sway of my skirt or the way I flip my hair, but I don't care. Even though their attention is the last thing I crave, I just can't stop. I dominate the track, the speed rattles my bones, and the wind and the crowd screams my name. I'm her. The girl driver. The queen of the race. And I'm surviving-something he thought I'd never do.
They all talk about him. Did you see Jared Trent on TV? What did you think of his last race, Tate? When is he coming back to town, Tate? But I refuse to care too much. Because when Jared does come home, I won't be here. Tatum Brandt is gone. I'm someone new.
