Back when I was in NASCAR, Truscott and Paul used to make fun of me for never sticking to any sort of plan we developed for the race, which was mostly good-natured teasing. It wasn't a secret that I did my own thing and wasn't patient enough to let our ideas develop the way they were supposed to.

Obviously, I loved racing more than anything, and I was kind of good at it. Robot fighting was a different story, and any sort of strategy-making it required was automatically way worse.

"The hydraulic flipper is much more intense than what you've seen before, and—" Blah, blah, blah. Drake droned on and on about how I needed to keep this flipping robot in front of Sacrilege at all times, even though that seemed obvious to literally anyone with a fucking brain.

It wasn't any different than anything else I had fought. It wasn't like racing where every track and every car was different.

"Hey, can we get out of here now? Everything is just beginning to blur together, and I don't know how I'm supposed to remember every little detail you're telling me," I said.

"I still have more notes to get through. This is just general flipper strategy. We haven't even gotten to the personalized notes I have from watching The Jackrabbit's fight yesterday," Drake said.

Oh my god.

One of his biggest reservations about me was that I only did what I wanted, and as much as I wanted to go out, I had something to prove.

So I just shut up and put my head in my hands. "Fine."

"Since you're starting to lose focus, I guess we can shorten this a little. Just let me figure out what parts aren't entirely necessary."

I picked up my head, and sure enough, he was reading through his notes. There was some slight chatter out in the hall of the hotel, but it didn't distract him at all from the task at hand.

He really was something, wasn't he? He was just as passionate about what he loved as I was, but he somehow managed to keep himself together better than I could ever dream of doing. I was a fighter, and he raced to a finish line that I didn't quite understand, but who was I to judge?

"Katie, I think it's all important," he said.

"Okay, look, I've been making everything up as I go, so maybe we can try that strategy again. I'm two for three in my fights," I said.

"What about all the reading Josiah and I gave you?"

I hadn't even bothered to look at it, but he didn't need to know that. "Well, I skimmed it a little."

"So you're telling me that you've won two fights even though you haven't read a single thing we gave you?"

I nodded.

"How in the hell?" He took in a breath. "That's absolutely insane. Do you have any idea how hard that is?"

I shook my head. "It's really not."

"Yes, it is." He set his papers down. "Why the hell am I even wasting our time with this?"

That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. "Is this passive-aggressive? Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all. I just—" He hesitated for a moment. "Josiah is easily the smartest person I know, and he can't even drive like that."

I smiled. "So I'm better than him?"

"I'd like to see you try to build a better robot than him." He laughed. "That's just crazy. You can't be that much of a natural at this. This isn't like racing at all."

He was completely right too. When I was driving a car, I was controlling it like it was just an extension of myself, but driving a robot was like I was its god. The ninety-five car was me, and Sacrilege was my little minion to kick the shit out of other robots.

But driving a robot wasn't that difficult to figure out. It probably just boiled down to quick thinking or something like that. Just like in racing, people here underestimated what I could do too.

"Can you imagine how much better you would be if you actually read what I asked you to?" Drake asked.

"I don't want it to taint my genius."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't think you have a humble bone in your body."

In a world where people didn't recognize my worth, there was no point in having anything but pure bullshit arrogance running through my veins. He wouldn't get that, though, so I just smiled.

"So tell me, how are you going to go about this fight?" Drake asked.

Oh my god, part two.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Can we go now?"

Drake got up from the couch and took a seat on the bed. I wasn't sure what was going through his mind, but it could have had something to do with the we're two different people thing he tried to sell me. Sure, we had two separate ways of thinking, but I didn't want to date myself. I was pretty stupid sometimes.

"I'm not trying to be an ass, but I'm just really looking forward to hanging out with you without the robot," I said.

"I know, but we really need to win this. Did you see the judges yesterday?"

I shook my head. "I was too busy winning to notice."

"Well, two of them were the captains of some of the best-known teams in combat robotics. And eventually, you know, I'd like to be them." He paused. "Remember that BattleBots thing Josiah and I were telling you about?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"They're two former champs of it, and it would be the absolute dream to have the opportunity to compete against them, don't you think?"

After I broke my neck and eventually came back to win a championship, the entire time, all I could think about was how I wanted to take the next step and compete against the best of the best. Griffin Gallagher could do it, so why couldn't I? Of course, the best of the best were way better than me, but if I could find my way back, maybe I could finally cement my name right there with them.

If I failed, then at least I would fail on my terms. It wouldn't be because one asshole in charge didn't like that he couldn't control me.

"I understand that completely," I said. "But the thing is that I'm brand new to this. I don't have the same credentials as everyone else. That'd be like having Elizabeth Tonkin take my spot just because she's classier than I am."

He didn't reply to that; instead, he leaned back onto his elbows. The most comfortable place to sit instead of the couch with cardboard for cushions would be on top of him as he ran his hands up and down my thighs and told me what he liked about me. It was a completely unrealistic fantasy since there was no mention of a robot anywhere, but I could dream.

When I first saw him, he reminded me of a big teddy bear because he seemed so inviting, trustworthy, and large, and a part of me still thought that. But at this point, it was clear that he was more than just that. He was focused and determined, and even when things went wrong, he still treated his team with patience and kindness, even me.

His hesitation was completely right: we were two different people, but that was part of the fun. And I sure as hell didn't want to scare him off quite yet.

"Is there any reason you're still wearing that fire suit?" he asked.

I smiled. "You want me to take it off?"

He laughed. "I just meant that it's all that you've been wearing this entire trip."

"Have you seen what it does? It pretty much adds a whole fucking cup size. I don't know how Annie did it, but she's a goddamn genius."

It was such a shame that she was wasting her talent. But all I could do was appreciate what she did for me, and she gave me a shot of confidence.

"You look good in pretty much everything you wear, Katie. You were a racecar driver, for God's sake," Drake said.

Were. You were a racecar driver. The words were true, but every single time they crossed my mind, disappointment filled my heart. I liked my new job-type thing (if it even counted as one, honestly), but nothing compared to the frustration, the pain, and the joy of two hundred miles an hour.

But once again, I smiled anyway. "Why thank you. I try my best."

I definitely didn't try my best on my appearance, but I tried my best where it counted.

"Do you even really want to go somewhere tonight? I wouldn't mind just staying here and talking to you," Drake said.

I kinda wanted to test out my new puke bucket for real, since the wine the day before sure as hell didn't get me that drunk, but I sat down beside him. I couldn't make a fuss, or he'd complain that I only ever did what I wanted. "That's cool, I guess. Just no robot talk. I'm so fucking sick of Sacrilege."

He chuckled. "Sometimes I forget she's not your whole life."

Sometimes I forgot that she was Drake's whole life though, so that made us even.

***

The next morning, I woke up without a single regret. No hangover, no disappointment in myself or from others.

How mature of me. I managed to get through a whole entire first date thingy without getting drunk or sleeping with the dude (or someone else after the date sucked).

Maybe it was the practice one with Griffin that smacked a little bit of sense into me, or maybe it was the fact that I was extremely out of practice, but I had a whole lot of shit going for me. Katie Moore was back, and she was ready to kick the shit out of some robots.

We went back to the arena, which had more people packed in than last time. I wasn't sure how the word got out that robot fights were super fucking awesome, but it didn't have to be a secret. Everyone deserved to see how fucking fine I was, especially in my fire suit.

"You know what would really complete this look? Sunglasses. Don't you think that'd be really hot?" I asked Drake and Josiah before our fight.

"How would you see anything? It's always dark during the fights," Josiah said.

I crossed my arms. "I'm just saying that it would look cool."

"Do you ever have thoughts that are actually worthwhile?"

"Sometimes I do. Usually they're about how much I can't stand you."

Drake chuckled. "Seriously, Katie, I need you to dial in for this fight. Megha Ratti got a video of The Jackrabbit's last fight and posted it online, and this robot is no joke."

He held out his phone to me to watch the video on Instagram. The entire arena was protected by a wall of plexiglass or something, and one robot chased after the other, caught up to it, and launched it up toward the top of the glass. The robot crashed down to the ground, and its spinner bent and wobbled to a stop.

Holy shit.

"Whoa. Do you follow me?" I asked.

Josiah threw his head back. "Oh, for fuck's sake."

"I'll make that my top priority if you beat The Jackrabbit," Drake said. "Why is that what you're thinking about?"

"Don't worry. I'll follow you back," I said, but the two of them didn't need to know what was actually going on in my mind.

The Jackrabbit was a little bit intimidating. It threw a robot that weighed at least a hundred pounds up ten feet in the air like it was nothing.

Maybe I should have paid a little more attention to Drake's plan.

Well shit.

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Good morning/evening/afternoon/whatever other time of day it could possibly be for you! Thank you so much for reading! This chapter stumped me for a while, not gonna lie. But I finished it, and we'll soon find out how this fight is going to play out!

I think this chapter revealed quite a bit about Katie, so how do you think everything is going to work out for her moving forward?