You got into his head

Chapter 1: Cruz stands up for herself and causes Jackson to have a crisis

Cruz wasn't the type to let winning get to her head. But she couldn't deny how good it felt to finally be out there chasing her dream – no, her dream was chasing her. Whenever she felt like she couldn't do it, whenever Jackson's words infected her confidence, there was a voice on the microphone reminding her she had earned this. She was as good as – better, even – than the competition. There had been a couple of losses here and there, usually to Jackson, but she viewed them as lessons. Her favourite painter, Bob Rust, called them happy little accidents.

Today wasn't a happy little accident. It was a happy little victory. She wasn't going to pretend that she wasn't sweating oil the whole time, certain every noise she heard was Jackson getting closer. Even the giddiness of winning, of standing on the podium with Jackson in second and Danny in third, didn't fully cure the dipping in her engine. Sometimes she felt like she was a Volkswagen mini driving alongside eighteen-wheelers on the highway. Everyone else just seemed to know what they were doing.

As she rolled away from the podium, her crew chief drove towards, now back in his red get-up. 'Keep this up, and you'll be well on your way to winning the Piston Cup.' His rusty friend and shining Porsche girlfriend followed close behind. Cruz had only known Sally for a short time, but it was hard not to like the blue car. And Mater… no one could be around Mater and not be entertained. Unless they had no sense of humour, like Jackson Storm.

Cruz grinned at Lightning, 'It was tight. Jackson nearly had me.' She looked around. 'Hate to admit it, but he's a talented race car.'

'Pfft,' said Lightning.

The other racers cruised by their sheds, their conversations carrying over. 'Cruz was flying today, man,' said Danny Swervez, a purple car who could usually be found at parties. He'd invited Cruz to a few, but she'd soon realised parties weren't really her thing.

Danny's crew chief, a Toyota Camry named Benjamin Throttlebody, responded with 'You're going to want to train harder if you want to beat her.'

'No way. It was so close today, bro.'

Benjamin laughed as he drove past a sleek black truck that Cruz recognised as Gale, Storm's hauler. She wondered if the black car had already retreated inside. He was the only race car she never saw at the parties. When she'd first seen him on the television last year, she expected that he'd be the type to fill his tank with cocaine-laden fuel while trying to pick up the Lamborghini girls. But Danny told her Jackson didn't even touch alcohol and didn't seem to care for girls, or guys for that matter. Even Lightning, who she viewed as a father, had had his days when he was younger. Mater told her that Lightning had an illegitimate child with a Miata, but Cruz wasn't the type to believe ridiculous rumours. Especially since Mater had a reputation for them.

Ah. There he was. Jackson Storm rolled so quietly that she could hardly believe he was a race car. His steel eyes glanced one way then the other, bored by Danny and Benjamin's chatter. But another rookie spoke up, the only other female car on the track. Olivia Clutchslip. The aqua car was another contender that Cruz had to look out for. Olivia was chatting with Chase Racelott, and being quiet wasn't in her nature.

'Seeing her on the screen was what finally made me decide to go for it. Sure, I'm not the youngest rookie out there, but better late than never,' said Olivia.

'I just wanna know how she got so fast,' replied Chase.

The IGNTR car swerved between them. 'Beginners' luck.'

Despite Lightning shaking his chassis to tell her no, Cruz edged forward.

'I don't know, Jackson,' said Chase. 'She's won fifteen races. That's no fluke.'

Jackson narrowed his eyes. 'You'll see. It's not too late for me to win the Piston Cup this year.'

'Keep telling yourself that,' said Olivia. 'One hit wonder.'

The black car revved his engine and stormed off, leaving the other two coughing in a cloud of smoke. But he spotted Cruz idling with her friends and his reverse lights came on.

'If it isn't Costume Girl herself.'

Lightning and Sally both opened their mouths, but Cruz shushed them. Last time they'd intervened, Jackson had taunted her about not being able to fight her own battles.

'You once asked Lightning where all his friends went.' She gave her friendliest smile. 'What about yours? Where are all your friends?'

Jackson didn't react. Most likely, no one had called him out before. After a moment he replied, 'I don't need other cars to give me my big break. I don't rely on anyone.'

How did he know where to hit her like that? Cruz prided herself on being slow to ignite, like a Ford Model T. But that stung. 'There's a reason none of the other race cars like you, Jackson. You might look the part, but deep down, you're not a racer. You don't have any love for the sport. All you care about is winning.'

Jackson flinched. 'All right, Costume Girl.'

He seemed to glide when he moved. He reversed into Gale's trailer, closing it before anyone could make eye contact with him.

Sally pulled up beside Cruz. 'Why does he always bother you like that?' asked the Porsche.

'He feels threatened by her,' said Lightning, eyeing the retreating truck as he reversed. 'We need to get going if we're going to Flo's tonight.'

It was a long ride to the next destination in Los Angeles. Jackson wished he could sleep through it, but his mind didn't want to stop wandering. He should have taken the third turn tighter on the second last lap. That's when she had passed him. Of course, the temptation to send her careening into the wall like her mentor overpowered him, but the race officials had warned him that if he pulled one more move like he did at the start of the season, he would be leaving in disgrace. Then he would have no chance to make back the money Axle had stolen from him and live the life he deserved.

The ringing of his phone woke him from his reverie. Ray, his crew chief, didn't travel in the trailer with him, but called regularly to make sure Jackson wasn't neglecting his training. His grille appeared on the video screen.

'Storm,' said Ray. 'Meet me at the training centre when you arrive in LA. We need to go over some new strategies if you're going to beat Ramirez.' The pickup didn't seem particularly interested in the conversation, driving around his kitchen filtering oil as he talked.

Jackson sighed. 'I guarantee she's gone by the end of the year.'

'You aren't taking this seriously.'

Jackson rolled back slightly. Ray had admonished Jackson plenty of times – but he had never heard that edge in his voice before.

'Mr. Stats put your name forward and got you this sponsorship. Right now, you're making him look like a fool.'

Jackson lowered his eyelids. 'I've won five races this season,' he said.

'It's not just about winning, Jackson. It's your attitude. It's making us look bad.'

'What attitude? I begged them to let me keep you as my crew chief, and now you're treating me like this?' Before Ray could answer, he slammed his tire on the end call button. 'Attitude,' he muttered to himself. He didn't see why his ego should be a problem. He deserved to be cocky – he was the best of the best.

'You all right back there?' called Gale.

He jumped. 'Yeah. I'm fine.' Two forklifts from his team were poking their front through the door. 'What are you looking at?' he snapped, and they retreated. 'Attitude,' he muttered again.

'One of the trucks told me that some of the racers are having a party tonight,' said Gale.

'Oh.' Jackson pretended not to be hurt that he had to hear this from his hauler. 'Is Ramirez going?'

'Don't think so. McQueen's hometown is on the way, so she's stopping there with her friends instead.'

Cruz and all her little friends. He should have his own party. 'Hey, Chuck,' he called to his lead mechanic. 'Why don't we have a party of our own tonight?'

Chuck poked his face out. 'Sorry, boss. My boyfriend lives in LA and we already planned a date night.'

'Oh. What about the others?'

A second forklift whose name he didn't remember appeared. 'We're going sightseeing first thing. Need an early night.' She yawned as punctuation.

Jackson sighed. 'All right, I get it.' Another night alone in the trailer, then. Maybe he actually would go and see Ray tomorrow.

Cruz is right. He pushed that thought away. Maybe she wasn't entirely far off when she said he didn't care for the sport. If he'd had it his way, gaming would've been his career. But that dream had been stolen from him at the last second, and he was determined to steal someone else's dreams to replace it.

Her words kept flying back like bugs determined to get on his grille. He'd been having a bad enough day as it was, then Ray had to start.

Maybe he did have an attitude issue. It had gotten him kicked out of his first training centre. He told himself that that was always his intention. He didn't want to be part of the racing world, savouring his freedom too much. But getting told no, getting humiliated and kicked out… he'd changed his mind after that. He'd prove the lot of them wrong. His job wasn't to be a nice person or be buddy-buddy with every car on the track. The sickeningly sweet paintjob of a personality that Cruz wore didn't suit a car like him. Attitude or no, he was the best, and he was going to prove it to Ray and anyone who took issue with him.

'212 miles per hour,' said Ray, frowning at the ground. 'Last week you got 214.'

'What's wrong with it? Ramirez's is only 210,' Jackson said flatly.

'Ramirez plays smart. You follow a formula. She thinks on the spot.'

'What do you mean?'

'When she sees a gap, she goes for it. She doesn't follow the line. If she falls behind, she can make it back up, but you get stuck if you fall behind.'

'That is not –'

'Listen to me. Our current strategy isn't working.' Ray pulled a lever and the simulator changed to put Jackson at the back of the pack.

'That's ridiculous. I'm always in pole position.' Not entirely true, but close enough. The worst he'd done in qualifying this season was third, behind Cruz and Danny.

'Yet you're always behind her.'

Jackson huffed. 'Fine. Let's do this ridiculous sim.' He readied himself to drive. And immediately found himself stuck behind some fool like a left lane hogger on a highway. He zigzagged behind the car – Chase, he thought – for almost an entire lap before he drifted away from the yellow car next to him. Jackson shoved himself into the gap.

'You have hit another car,' said the simulator as it squeezed his tires. Jackson cringed at the sound of scraping metal, fake as it was. Ray would be shaking his chassis, but Jackson didn't look. He was now stuck behind a pink car and a blue one. He should know their names, but he really didn't understand how he could be expected to learn such a long list. Cars came and went, but he had only one in his sights. Or he would, if he could see her past all these idiots.

The pink car misjudged the turn and slammed into the blue one. Jackson swerved, narrowly missing the wreckage. Other cars weren't so lucky, adding to the pileup instead.

'Good,' said Ray.

Jackson didn't care for Ray's commentary right now. The gold former-trainer was in sights, leading slightly ahead of Clutchslip and Swervez. But a line of cars was blocking his way. Frustrated with his goal being so close yet so far, he moved towards the car in front – Ryan Laney – to nudge him out the way.

'Remember what the officials told you, Jackson,' said Ray.

Jackson pulled back because he was closer than an SUV tailgating in a school zone and didn't want to end up causing another big crash. It would take a risky manoeuvre to catch up to Ramirez before the ten-lap simulation ended. With five laps to go, it looked like these cars were stuck on their lines and wouldn't let up. How did Ramirez catch up so effortlessly in that first race? He really should have reviewed the footage, but he had considered it a fluke and not worth worrying about. To get past these idiots, he would have to drift on the dirt. The simulator did it all too well, and he didn't drive on dirt if he didn't have to.

'What are you doing?' asked Ray.

Jackson found himself losing traction and spun into the other cars then collided with the wall. He skidded to a halt, facing the wrong way as the other cars flew past him.

'Jackson!' Ray switched off the simulator. 'You're too focused on Ramirez. You missed three safe gaps.'

'No I didn't,' he said. 'Besides, I could hold onto dirt better than that in real life. The simulator is terrible with dirt.'

'This is the most realistic, up-to-date simulator money can buy.' Ray thumped his tires on the ground. 'Stop making excuses.'

Jackson huffed as the simulator let him down. 'I promise you, Ray. This week will be a win for me.' He rolled away without another word.

Jackson wondered if the other cars were as fidgety as he was. Some of them joked with each other, most gratingly Danny and Cruz who had joined him up the front. The rest of them set their faces in hard determination. They all looked like they belonged. He thought he did, once. Cruz's words rung in his head like a Bluetooth call during inclement weather.

He shook his fenders. Wherever he belonged, it wasn't in second place. He revved his engine, poised to go as soon as the flag was raised.

Within a second, he'd overtaken Cruz. During the last race he'd gotten cocky when she fell back to third. He didn't expect that she'd overtake Danny at the last second, or that Danny would also overtake him.

Use that anger.

He pushed himself harder. Now he knew exactly how he'd made McQueen feel. If that wasn't motivation…

The others were falling back. Even with Cruz's godly mechanics, he still held a lead. And this time he wasn't going to let it go.

One lap to go. This was when she usually blindsided him, if she hadn't passed him by now. He felt the gold car's presence behind him and moved when she did, stopping her from passing. This time he would wipe the grin from Ray's grille.

'Danny's moving up on your left,' said Ray over the mic.

Jackson hadn't accounted for the Octaine Gain car. If he moved to block Danny, Cruz would get past. They were working together. No sportsmanship. Cheats, just like when Lightning had raced with his friends Cal and Bobby. He pushed himself that little bit harder, but it was no use. The purple car zoomed past him and crossed the finish line.

When Jackson finally slowed to a halt, Danny and Cruz were bumping each other's tires. They always seemed so relaxed together, easily able to slip into a conversation anywhere and anytime. Jealousy twinged his motor, but he told himself it was only because he didn't have friends.

'What was that?' asked Ray. 'A loss to Danny? You're too focused on Cruz. You're obsessed with her.'

Jackson turned off his headset. He rolled towards the pair without purpose, like a manual with no hill-assist. Taking in a deep breath, he glanced between the two cars as they turned to look at him. 'That was some impressive driving today,' he said. 'For both of you.'

'…Thanks?' said Cruz, then she and Danny burst out laughing.

Screw him for trying to be nice, right? He made his way towards Gale, reversing into her trailer before Ray could catch him. He'd spotted the pickup making his way through the crowds and was in no mood for a lecture.

He turned on his TV and watched Cruz's interview with the press. 'Do you feel disheartened by your loss today?' asked a blue Subaru Legacy with an Australian accent.

'Not at all,' said Cruz. 'Danny is my friend and I'm happy to see him win.'

'What about Jackson coming in second?' asked the Subaru.

'No one is denying that he's a talented racer,' said the insufferable bubble of sunshine. 'But I think his issue is hubris.'

The Subaru laughed. 'That's what everyone says. So, is it true that you and Danny Swervez are an item?'

Cruz's eyes went wide and she choked. 'What? That's ridiculous. Me and Danny – we're good friends. That's all.'

An odd wave of relief rushed through his coolant. It dissipated a second later when Gale's trailer door opened back up and Ray was idling at the bottom of the ramp.

This was not going to be fun.