If Cars Could Think 9

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Casey felt her frame tingle as she slipped in beside the orange Mustang. This is so wrong, but it feels so right.

"I'm late, aren't I?" she asked.

"Just a tad." Jerry's engine was rumbling deeply.

"Did I miss a lot?"

"Not really." He was avoiding her gaze, and she had to ask herself why.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm married, and I should be back home, fast asleep beside Mike and Omaira. That didn't intrigue her, though. She knew it wasn't supposed to.

"A lot on the mind?" Jerry bumped her with a wheel.

"I could ask the same of you." I have a husband, and a daughter, but there's a high performance muscle car showing interest in me, a top of the line, new Mustang GT350. That's what's on my mind.

"It's just... what do you expect to get out of this?" Jerry asked.

"What do you mean?" She felt her suspension stiffen.

"Don't avoid the question. We've been talking for a month now, and, despite the fact that you tell me you're married, with a kid, you don't seem happy with that life, or else you wouldn't keep coming here."

He's right. "I'm here just to watch the races, though," she lied.

"Sure you are, Casey." He finally met her gaze, sleek headlights shining. "We get along so well."

"So...?"

"So, maybe it's time you start thinking about this. Maybe it's time you start thinking about what you really want in your future."

Casey felt herself shudder. "I already made that decision when I married Mike," she explained simply. And I wish I didn't, because, when Omaira leaves, he just might end things with me anyways. Then at least she could have Jerry, and not have to feel guilty about seeing him.

She hardly paid attention to the drag race that had just started in front of her; the roaring engines and burning tires had simply become a casual part of her life now, at least every weekend. She wasn't here to watch all that, except maybe when it was Jerry's turn.

"We all make mistakes," the orange Mustang said as the two cars screeched away. "Sometimes, it's about leaving those mistakes behind us. Fleeing from them, you could say."

He's a year younger than me and talks like he's smarter! He probably had more real world experience than her, anyways, considering she had grown up in an odd, sheltered housing authority. "I don't want to just run away from all my problems," she said stubbornly.

"So you'd rather try and work things out with the guy?"

Not really. "I-I don't know. Marriage isn't something you can just pull yourself out of, just like that. And what about my little girl?"

She felt the Mustang's tight suspension tense. "You got yourself into that mess, and you can get yourself out." He paused. "It's my turn now. Let's talk after the race." He rolled out to the strip of road, lining up beside a green Chevy Camaro.

Talk after the race? Casey wondered as the two of them started with a loud, screeching burnout. We've never done that before. In seconds, the two muscle cars were off, engines roaring so loud that she went deaf briefly. She backed further onto the little patch of grass, watching until they were just two pairs of glowing taillights at the end of the long strip. She couldn't even tell which car had won.