Page 55 of Furious

“Well, that could’ve gone better,” El says, once we’re outside again.

We wave to Rita, who taps her Apple Watch.

“What do you want to do now?” I ask, wanting desperately to see the track again. But also knowing El might want to go to the diner.

“I think we should split up,” El says tentatively. “If that’s okay with you. I mean, what if Max is in one place, but we both go to the other, and then we miss her?”

“It makes sense to split up,” I say, weirdly relieved somehow. “I’ll take the Raceway. I mean, unless you want it. But I sort of know my way around tracks, and I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. And—”

El puts a hand on my arm. “Jo. It’s fine. Go to the Raceway. I’ll find this diner. I bet Max is there anyway. She’s probably got a proper job and is making good money. I bet this pawnshop job is just a temporary thing.”

Her voice shakes as she says it, as if she’s convincing herself more than me.

“I bet that’s it,” I say gently. I wrap her in a hug. “We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

Rita honks at us, and unrolls a window. “It’s been way more than five minutes. I’ve got to get going. I’ve got another fare to pick up. I can drop you girls off at one place, but that’s it.”

“We’re going in different directions anyway,” says El, holding up her phone. She turns to me. “Mama Maple’s is just a few blocks away. I’ll walk. You get a ride to the Raceway and let me know what you find.”

I look around the slightly rough neighborhood. “Are you sure? I can go with you.”

El shakes her head emphatically. “I’m fine. Really. It’s super close and it’s run by like some famous chef. It’s got great reviews and is probably crowded even at this time of day. Don’t worry about me. Now, get to the Raceway.”

She pops a quick kiss on my cheek, and then turns away, walking with determined strides down the street.

I should go after her. I really should. But she’s right that we’re more likely to miss Max if we don’t split up. Plus, El might need some time to clear her head. A lot has happened over the last twenty-four hours—no, less than that. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since we raced Riley and I won.

Just that thought makes my hands itch for a steering wheel. For the feel of track under my wheels. For going so fast, I don’t have time to think or miss my mom or worry about the F1 Academy application or what’s happening between El and me or the trouble we’re going to be in when we get home.

“Your friend isn’t coming with us?” Rita asks as I climb into the front seat of the minivan.

I shake my head. “She has something to do at Mama Maple’s.”

“That place is amazing. We should’ve asked her to get us some takeout. Where are you headed?”

I buckle my seat belt. “The Richmond Raceway, if it’s not too far.”

Rita turns the key in the ignition. “We’ve got time, hon. Don’t worry. I’m a fast—but safe—driver. My kids like to tease me and tell me I should be driving a race car.”

I close my eyes, leaning against the seat. “My mom was a race car driver,” I say softly.

“She is not!” Rita exclaims as she pulls away from the pawnshop.

“Was,” I say, opening my eyes. I turn around and look for El, but she’s already turned down another street and out of view. “My mom was a race car driver. She passed away a few months ago in a crash.”

“Oh hon,” Rita says, placing her warm hand over mine. “I’m so sorry. Want to tell me about it?”

I shake my head.

“Want a juice box?” She opens the center console and pulls out a juice box and a granola bar. My stomach rumbles at the sight, reminding me I’ve not eaten for hours.

“That would be great, thanks,” I say, taking both with a feeling that could be relief, but might be something else.

“We’ll get to the Raceway soon,” Rita says. “But in the meantime, want me to tell you about the time I drove a famous F1 driver around Richmond for the day?”

“I’d love that,” I say, taking a long sip of sugary juice. “Tell me all about it, please.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO