"Out of every dumb thing you've ever done, this has to be the dumbest," Griffin said. I didn't even bother to tell him about my plan to get back into the racing arena until I got back to Baton Rouge, because I knew he would try to talk some sense into me.

There was no point in having Vegas ruined for me because Griffin didn't like my decision-making skills.

"Look, I spent a lot of time talking to them, and I can't describe it, but I just feel like we vibe, you know?" I replied.

"Oh yeah? What kind of car are you going to end up driving?" Griffin crossed his arms.

I hesitated. "Probably one that goes fast."

Griffin shook his head and rested his hands on the kitchen counter. He hadn't even bothered to wipe it down while I was gone, so I wet a paper towel and cleaned up the dried-on stains for him.

"I know how to drive, Griffin. I grew up on dirt tracks, and I've driven IndyCar before. It'll be a learning process, sure, but if there's anyone who can handle it, it's me. I have to move on. I can't stay here with nothing ahead of me," I said. I looked down at my wrists, and on the left one I had a tattoo of a key. It was supposed to get me into whatever locked doors life threw my way, and with my Vegas luck, it seemed that it worked like a charm.

He took in a breath. "I know. I'm just gonna miss having you around. Who else is going to clean my counters and appreciate my pine flooring?"

"You could hire someone to do it for you, or," I gasped, "you could grow up and do it yourself."

Griffin smiled. "I don't think that's happening anytime soon."

Funny, because he always seemed to think that the fact that he was two years older than me made him wiser when he was just as dumb as me.

At the end of the day, though, he was just about the only family I had.

"I never thought America's sweetheart would end up in Canada." Griffin chuckled.

"I was never America's sweetheart. I was America's favorite disaster." I paused for a moment. "Everything's gonna be fine, okay? Don't even bother worrying about me."

"Why would I waste my time with that when I know you'll do something to end up in the headlines by the end of the month?" He looked over to the fridge, opened it up, and grabbed a couple bottles. "I didn't want to drink these without you."

I smiled. There were times I wondered what I ever did to deserve his loyalty, his friendship, and most importantly, his drinks.

All the windows in his house were open, and although it was a little hot inside, the sweet smell of early summer air soothed the last bit of uncertainty I held.

Griffin opened up one of the bottles and handed it to me. Although it was just past noon, someone around the neighborhood played Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville like no one else was listening. Since I couldn't go there, I had to settle for Ontario.

"So what about a work visa?" Griffin asked.

I shushed him. "No. No logistics right now. Can we just be happy that I found a new team that actually wants me?"

Griffin didn't reply to that, and instead, he took a sip. "Don't fuck it up, Kate."

I wasn't exactly sure why he felt the need to say that, and I shook my head. I wasn't going to fuck anything up. There was only one person to blame for what happened with Talladega and RTR, and it certainly wasn't me.

I wasn't America's sweetheart like he wanted, but I had more morality in my pinkie toe than Mr. Truscott had in his entire heart. And that said something.

***

After Drake and Josiah picked me up at the airport, we headed to their garage, where all the magic happened. Even though Griffin had pointed out a few problems I didn't consider with my plan, all of those questions would be answered soon enough. And if Drake and Josiah kidnapped me, then I deserved it.

"You know, Annie is really excited about having another woman around the garage. She's Josiah's girlfriend, and I think she gets lonely sometimes since we're always working," Drake said.

I smiled. "I'm excited too. There aren't too many of us in the sport, so we have to stick together."

"No," Josiah said. "She's not a part of the team. She doesn't understand mechanical work at all, and—"

"Well, she does a lot of the aesthetic design, so that's important," Drake interrupted.

"Yeah, that's definitely a part of the team," I said.

Josiah shook his head. "I love her, but anyone could do that."

"You couldn't," Drake said.

Josiah shot Drake a glare, and I laughed.

"Okay, she's important to the team. Are you happy now?" Josiah said.

"And tell her that you love her as soon as she gets back from work," Drake said. "If you don't say it enough, you'll eventually lose her."

"It's been six years. I think we both know what we've gotten into at this point, and we're both perfectly happy with it."

I nodded. There was no way in hell I'd be able to tolerate someone telling me that they loved me all the time. Once a week was good enough.

We continued onto a road that led away from the city, which I was sure looked pretty at night. It wasn't Vegas by any stretch, but there had to be plenty of fun places to go.

Finally, we pulled into a driveway and up to a small detached garage. They opened up the door, and I hopped out of the car and stepped inside. Paint buckets were stacked on top of each other in the back left corner, and an unfinished mural decorated the wall. The outline was drawn in pencil on the tan bricks, and there were little splashes of color that had yet to come to life in the full picture.

The rest of the garage was filled with metal parts and tools, but one thing stood out in particular.

"Oh my god, this Corvette is so fucking sexy." I ran my hand along the peeling red paint. It wasn't in the best condition, but a Corvette was a Corvette. "Can I drive it?"

"There's no engine. We used it for parts," Drake said.

My heart sank into my stomach, and I let out a wheeze. "You what?"

"We were running low on funds, so we did what we had to do," Josiah said. "It never meant anything to us anyway."

What the fuck?

"How the hell can you call yourselves a racing team if you're willing to do that to one of the best-looking cars ever made?" I shook my head. "It's disgusting."

"What? Racing?" Drake's mouth fell open. "Oh my god, no. We wanted a driver."

I looked over at Josiah, then Drake. "I drive cars for a living, therefore I'm a driver. What's the confusion?"

"You said you drove for RTR," Josiah said.

I nodded. "Yeah, Roger Truscott Racing."

"Oh no. Oh my god. Look, in our line of work, that means Real Time Robotics," Drake said.

"Robotics? What the fuck is going on?" I asked.

"You wouldn't happen to know much about combat robotics, would you?" Drake forced a smile, and it wasn't difficult to see the hope leave his eyes.

I shook my head. "I don't even know what that is."

Combat robotics? Why the fuck would I mean that I drove robots, not cars?

The door to the garage opened, and a woman with dull pink hair and a store's smock walked in. She took a look at me, and she covered her mouth. "You're the American racecar driver that just got her contract terminated to deal with her alcoholism. Uh, um," she hesitated, "Katie Moore."

And even though what she said was only partially true, I nodded. There weren't any words that could find their way out of my mouth.

The world stopped for a moment while her curls bounced as she walked toward Josiah. "Is she our new driver?"

"Well, Annie, we thought she was going to be, but the problem is that she drives cars," Josiah said.

How did Josiah not tell Annie that he loved her every second of every day? I was about ready to tell her that, and I had just seen her for the first time.

Everything about her was glorious: the way that her soft lips and smile couldn't hold back the words in her mind, the way her eyeliner didn't match on both sides, the way she bounced with each step she took.

I held up my hand. "Wait, so what exactly do you guys do?"

"Combat robotics is the very serious business where you build the scariest robot you can, enter tournaments, and kick the shit out of other robots," Josiah said.

"Sounds expensive."

Drake nodded. "We've used up all my dad's money, so our finances aren't looking too promising right now."

"Can you give me a shot? I know that it seems like there's no possible way this could work, but I think that I could figure it out. You could pay to get someone who knows what they're doing, or you could get me for free," I said.

Where else did I have to go? I couldn't go back to Baton Rouge, because even though Griffin would never abandon me, I had enough pride that I couldn't let him see me fail (again). And I couldn't go back to Ohio, because although it was just across Lake Erie, the only person who cared about me there was my fucking therapist, Shannon.

Josiah crossed his arms. "No. The last thing we need is a bargain hooker."

I laughed. "Real funny, but I'm cheaper and even more clueless than that."

My parents would have been so proud.

"We can't afford to keep losing, and unless we change something around here, that's exactly what's going to happen," Drake said.

"She can't be any worse than you are," Annie said, and she giggled. "Sorry. You know I love you."

Josiah glared at her. "Annie, no."

"She's right. And I'm the team captain, so what I say goes. We promised her a shot, and I'm not going back on it." Drake held out his hand to me. "We'll teach you the basics, but you're gonna have to do the rest."

I shook his hand. "That won't be a problem at all. I do my best work when people aren't restricting me."

Drake smiled. "Then welcome to the team."

I smiled back. I hadn't felt welcome in a long time, and even if I was their bargain hooker driver, then at least I was wanted.

Annie clapped her hands together. "Have you met Peanut yet?"

Drake pointed over to the corner opposite of the paint cans. A robot sat upon a throne of metal scraps, and I assumed that it was my new partner in crime.

But I also assumed that they wanted me to drive a car, so I wasn't doing too well in that department.

"Its real name is Sacrilege, but Annie calls the robot Peanut. No one knows why," Josiah said.

"Because it's cute, not intimidating," Annie said.

I stepped up to the robot, and its wheels were covered by the boxy design. A metal bar protruded from the middle, and even though I didn't know how much it weighed, if that thing was spinning, it would kill a person.

I turned and looked back at Drake, Josiah, and Annie. "That's badass."

Who would have thought that America's favorite disaster would end up fighting robots?

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Hi there, and thank you so much for reading! I'm so excited to get into the main part of the story now, and hopefully, it'll work out like I have it planned. (HA! When does that ever happen?)

Moving forward, I'd like to say that I don't know a damn thing about how robots work, so if you do and notice that I got something wrong, please let me know.

So for today's question, do you think Katie will be able to fit in with her new robot-fighting team? What challenges will it bring?