AN: It's been a rough day...but have some baby girl McQueen :)
"Harris is not happy with how this race went Jeff."
"Can you blame him. It's not how I'd want to start off a season. Especially after how well he started out last year."
Jess watched the commentary on her tablet, smirking at the screen as Darren Leadfoot and Jeff Gorvette began throwing stats numbers out and catching up the general public on how the first race was already setting the tone for the new season.
"-but McQueen though!"
Footage of the race was played while they continued with their commentary. Jess's stock car came around the turn alongside the yellow #35 before passing along the straightaway and finishing half a car length ahead. The image had gone to Pit Row showing the reactions of the crew. Jess smiled widely at the way her father had jumped up, leaning out over the edge of the pit box and how both her parents had realized she'd won at the same time.
"Nice to have the name back in the field."
"Isn't it? Don't get me wrong, Jeff, Lightning has made quite the impression through the years and proven he's just as capable in a pit box as he was behind the wheel, but seeing Jessica out there brings back memories of the early 2000's."
"Everyone needs to watch out for her. She's got everything going for her right out of the gate." She watched as Jeff counted off on his fingers as he made each point. "She's got the training, incredible training if you really take the time to think about it, a great sponsor, the stamina, the car and a good team."
"I think her first season will definitely mirror that of her father's." Darren replied with a nod.
Maybe without all the bravado... She thought to herself as she turned the tablet off and set it aside.
She had her first official win under her belt. Jess grinned, moving to the edge of her bed in the trailer, her bare feet just grazing the floor. Her grin turned into a full smile as she pushed herself up, her face sore from how much she had been smiling that day.
She slipped her sandals on and was about to leave the trailer when she realized how chilly it was through the screen door. Grabbing her sweatshirt, her new sponsor licensed sweatshirt this time not the old Piston logo, she threw it on quickly and went to leave the trailer again.
She liked the black and white, and she liked how the new marketing team used the font from The Fabulous Hudson Hornet in their Piston licensed gear.
"Where're you headed?"
She looked to her left and realized her parents were sitting together under the awning of the trailer, the running lights just bright enough for her to see them both in the late evening darkness.
"I thought you'd gone to bed." She replied softly.
"Little early for that." Her mother commented. "We're not that old, Sweetheart."
"I didn't mean it that way." She stood in front of them, putting her hands in the pocket of her hoodie before she answered her father's original question. "I was just going for a walk."
"Make sure you've got-"
"My pass. I got it." She held the lanyard up from around her neck.
"Little late to be wandering the track isn't it?"
"It's not like I'm breaking in anywhere."
"I'll hold you to that."
"Daddy-" She tilted her head and nearly stomped her foot but stopped herself when she noticed the smirk on his face.
"Ow-"
Jess grinned when her mother came to her rescue and elbowed her father lightly in the ribs.
"That did not hurt."
"You don't know that."
"Alright, McCrybaby."
"Alright, love you, bye." Jess cut in quickly before turning to leave.
"You have your phone?"
"Yes, mom."
"Keep track of the time."
"I will." She grinned faintly, a chorus of 'congratulations on the race' from her parents being overpowered by the music through the headphones she'd just stuck in her ears.
"Thanks." She grinned widely again. "See you in a bit."
Jess wandered further through the infield for a while, weaving through campsites and past groups of people circled around fire rings. One group up ahead to the far right looked like they could be preparing for a brawl. Someone must have badmouthed the wrong driver.
Hopefully it wasn't her.
She reached up and clicked through the songs, why was it she could never be happy to just listen to a playlist on shuffle?
Jess glanced up and suddenly found herself on Pit Row. She gave up on trying to find the right song and stood in front of her own pit space. The car had been loaded hours ago and all of their personal gear and tools were packed away. All that was left was the pit box.
She climbed up and looked out toward the track, noting how the cement stood out strangely in the darkness, she'd say it glowed but that didn't seem like the right word.
Jess sat in the crew chief's chair and propped her feet up on the safety bar. Only after a few attempts, though, she was rather short. She eventually had to settle on slouching with her knees bent. She scrolled through Twitter to see what was going on outside the world of Piston. She was distracted, though, and her attention fell on the Hotwheels cars she pulled from the hoodie pocket. She set them up on her knees before looking back at the phone.
"So now she wanders around race tracks in the dark."
He'd caught her between songs, luckily or unluckily enough.
Jess rolled her eyes. Honestly? She paused the music and glanced down in to the pit space.
"Speak for yourself."
"Stretching my legs. Seth shrugged. "Plus I wanted to see who was wandering around the pits."
"Don't you have any post race rituals?"
"Uh, no. That's a little strange."
"Well then you just don't get it."
"You haven't run enough races to have a post race ritual."
"Maybe I'm starting a tradition." She turned her music up.
She figured he had moved on until she felt vibration through the floor of the box. He must have hit the side.
"What do you want?" She asked finally, pulling the headphones from her ears.
"I said congratulations."
She raised a brow. "Thanks?"
"Don't get used to it.
She shifted and the cars rested on her knees clattered to the floor.
"What was that?"
"Nothing! Why do you even care? Thanks, goodnight!" She leaned awkwardly to the side to retrieve the toys and her brows lowered, hissing. "Get off my pit box!"
He held on to the ladder, just barely able to see over the edge of the floor. Her phone lit up the space half decently. "Are those toys?"
"I have no problem kicking you in the face. Get down!"
"Wonder how Twitter would feel about that."
"For as rude as you were earlier why are you suddenly so interested in what I'm doing?"
Her question was met with silence, and when he did finally answer his tone was that of their first meeting.
"Call me confused."
"Alright, Confused, what's your problem?"
"Dad jokes, seriously?"
"Shut up or answer my question."
"Demanding little thing aren't you." He grinned smugly.
"I will call security." Only after she punched him in the face.
"Go ahead. My father runs it on this track."
Of course he did. "I'll ask again. What do you want?"
"I want to know why you think you should be out here."
She inclined her head slightly, surprised and more than a little offended. "Why do you think you should?"
"Because I'm good at it."
"That answer's so shallow I can't get my feet wet."
She looked down at where he was still clinging to the ladder with disdain. If he only raced because he was good at it then what did that really say about him?
He made a face at her comment before rolling his eyes and leaning forward. He wrapped his arms around the ladder and adopted a mockingly flirtatious expression. "It's cute how you think you're one of us."
"Didn't we already have this conversation?" Jess glanced at her phone, scrolling through her text messages and clicking on her father's last message, debating over whether to send a text or not.
"Just making sure the message is coming across."
She stood suddenly and crowded the ladder, threatening to step on his hands.
"Well you'll find I can be pretty thick headed when I want to be." She did start down the ladder then, forcing him to back down or have his fingers crushed. "I come from a line of hard headed people, sweetheart, and I have a message for you."
She poked him in the chest roughly and vaguely noticed that safety lights had finally come on along Pit Row. His expression never changed but she could tell he was surprised.
"I'm not going anywhere. You can taunt and belittle and try every underhanded trick in the book but this is my sport. You might be good-" She smirked, turning his own expressions around on him. "But I'm better."
"You don't belong out here." He repeated.
She brushed passed him, sending a text to her father even as she left. She commented over her shoulder as she did so. "You're going to need to come up with better insults."
