AN: Three to five(?) chapter piece that I've been kicking around a little lately. Thought I'd work on it and post while waiting to get my motivation back for my other fics.

95% Original Characters with some cameos of the 50s crew. Inspired by the song of the same name by Eric Church.

Late Spring, 1953

Hershel Edwards couldn't stand the sound of his first name. It was old and always gave him the mental image of some cranky old man who hated everyone and everything and had never experienced fun a day in his life. The only ones to ever address him by his given name anymore were his parents, and even then it was only if he was being forced in to discussing the decisions he should be making for his future.

At seventeen years old why should he be worrying about that? He knew what would happen. Just like his older brother, he'd be shipped off to an Ivy League School and as long as he kept his grades up and his nose clean, he'd land a job in his father's company and never worry about anything a day in his life. Hershel Edwards was a name already awaiting a name plaque for a desk in his father's offices. Why he had to put up with four years of school in the meantime, he didn't know.

William Bell, a cousin through his mother's side had a guaranteed position within the business as well. So they'd teamed up with the idea to spend the summer after high school graduation doing something they actually enjoyed before being forced in to the cookie cutter molds their parents had already prepared for them.

The idea had been highly opposed, until they had broken down Mr. Edwards enough with the idea that they wouldn't be alone. Enough of their mates from school would be more than happy to spend the summer traveling with them, and Dean Collins' family could even supply the transportation.

So they'd gathered up their friends, and a tag along, William's younger brother Thomas, to follow the Piston Cup circuit for the summer of 1953. It would be their last big adventure before parting ways as they became adults and found their places within the world. A bunch of teenage boys from upstate New York, who'd never traveled further than Pennsylvania, would be driving up and down the southern east coast from one dirt track to the next.

"You know. When I told Father we'd be traveling in the Winnebago Dean Collins' family owns, this isn't what I had in mind."

"Well it's a Winnebago." Dean defended. "And my family owns it. So it's not a lie."

"It's falling apart." William, who tended to go by Billy due to the fact that there were two Williams within their group, frowned at the camper that could only be a few years old.

Dean shrugged. "My uncle got a hold of it and decided to use it for parts on another project. There's nothing wrong with it, once I got everything replaced that is." He slapped the side of the camper with forced enthusiasm and grinned when the screen door popped open behind him. Shoving it closed again, he passed them to get in to the Chevy truck he'd been gifted on his sixteenth birthday.

Billy only eyed his cousin a moment before reaching out and securing the screen door, speaking finally when Hershel passed him to get in the truck as well. "Hey, Hersh."

"What?"

"If we die."

"Yeah."

"I'm blaming you."

"Way ahead of you."

They all took turns driving, Dean, Billy, Hershel and Will. Thomas was only fifteen and for the most part had stayed quiet in the back seat, Billy and Hershel were the only ones he really knew. Not that Dean and Will were total strangers, but he hadn't specifically wanted to join them on their adventure in the first place. Why spend a summer in the hot, dusty south, when he could have been doing just about anything else back home.

Billy couldn't sit still the night before the first race they would attend. They'd fumbled with getting the truck unhitched, none of them having much experience with anything mechanical. It's what made the very idea of Piston Cup so foreign to them. They knew makes and models, sure, but to ask them the difference between a Ford and Chrysler motor was out of the question. The only one who knew much of anything was Billy, and that was only because he'd started collecting the new publication magazine Piston Cup had begun to print. A few of them had stayed behind to get the camper situated while the others went ahead to the track to make sure they'd be able to purchase half decent tickets before the booths closed for the night.

"Do you think any of the drivers will be there already?"

"Maybe, I know some of them like to see the track beforehand."

"It's kind of a waste of time isn't it." Will Brooks cut in to the conversation between Billy and Hershel. "I might not know a lot about Piston Cup, but you two never shut up about it. Why should any of them be trying so hard if what's-his-name had been winning all those races last year."

"It's still competition." Billy shrugged, he hadn't taken his eyes off their tickets since he'd been handed them at the ticket counter. "Wouldn't you want to be known for knocking the champion off his throne?"

They walked along the chain link fence, back to where Dean's truck was parked and looked up at the sound of engines on the track below.

Will's brows lowered. "I thought the race was tomorrow."

"It is." Hershel kept walking. "They usually have an amateur run the night before." That had never interested him, it was the big time or nothing.

Getting back to the others, Billy had made sure to put the tickets somewhere safe. No one had been able to manage keeping a fire going and had instead pulled out all the sleep sections of the camper and called it an evening. The lights within the Winnebago were dim, but it was enough for them to keep themselves occupied, some playing cards while others read.

"Why didn't anyone tell me Virginia was so hot."

"It really isn't, Tommy, you just like to complain." Billy muttered from where he flipped through his magazine.

"It is stuffy in here, at least turn on a fan."

"If you're gunna complain about the accommodations, go somewhere else." Dean looked up from his hand of cards.

"Someone's touchy."

"Hey I drove the majority today, just to watch people drive in circles tomorrow. Give me a break." He glanced at the full page ad of the magazine Billy had set down. "No one smiles like that, it's so fake."

"You don't even know if that was actually him, Dean, it's a drawing."

"You're really defending a person you don't know. C'mon, Billy, face it! He was given a big fat check to say what they wanted him to say."

It was just like any other advertisement Billy had ever seen, bright colors with the main logo in big letters with some catchy slogan to get you to remember the brand name should you happen to forget the magazine when you went to the tire shop. Then again, all you had to do was mention the driver's name and they'd be sure to know what you were talking about...

Billy only glanced up dully while turning the page of the small publication. "Like you're one to whine about money." After a pause he flipped back and looked the ad over again. "I'm gunna have one of those someday."

"What, a set of tires?" Will chimed in.

"You wish you had tires like that." He continued despite the eye rolls he received. "No, not the tires, the car."

"You, driving a Hudson Hornet. Okay."

"Hey, I will!"

"That'll be the day."

Dean, who couldn't care less about the sport, the drivers, or even this particular summer trip aside from the fact that it got him away from his hometown, leaned back against the bench seat and linked his hands behind his head and continued with his original train of thought. "Actually, he probably didn't even say anything. They just had their marketing team come up with something."

Billy finally flipped the publication closed and put his attention on their card game. "For not knowing, or caring, about this sport at all, you're awfully critical."

His brother spoke up. "Dean's only in it for the cars."

"Isn't everyone? You're only here to keep tabs on big brother and tattle off home if he steps out of line."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group momentarily. It wasn't that no one liked the kid, but the age gap made it awkward. It was just something they'd all silently agreed to tolerate for the sake of the trip.

"Give him a break, Dean..."

"He's not bothering anyone."

Dean hesitated before picking up another card for his hand and shrugging lightly. "Yeah, Sorry."

"Who are you betting on?"

"We're not old enough, and if we're not old enough, you're sure not old enough."

"So we're really just going to spend the summer watching a bunch of cars drive in circles?"

"Look." Billy turned to his brother with a look of exasperation. "You agreed to come. We're not taking you home and mom and dad sure aren't going to be paying for a ticket home after you committed to this. So find something to do if this isn't good enough for you."

Apparently the food had been good enough, Tommy used all his money budgeted for the weekend on food from the stands...

After the race, Billy and Hershel had noticed that the other's had gained interest quickly. The others didn't really know any drivers or the cars but neither had they when they first started following.

"I want that Chrysler." Will watched the #300 passing by the stands as they began to empty of spectators. "Hey Billy." He teased faintly. "Why'd your hero finish so far back?"

"Everyone's allowed an off day, you guys act like they're invincible..."

"Only because you make them sound that way."

Billy could only roll his eyes, knowing he'd get a ribbing for the rest of the evening.