Chapter 44 Then…
Then…
“Are you nervous, duck?”
Juliette glanced up. Her father crouched beside the go-kart, his dark hair damp with the muggy July drizzle.
He was wearing a stained T-shirt with Shakespeare’s face that said, No Holds Bard!
which normally would have embarrassed her, but she knew it was his lucky one.
He’d dug it out of the laundry that morning.
She shook her head. “I’m just cold.”
Her gaze strayed to the fizzy juice at the finish line.
What type was it? Grape? Apple? She hadn’t been able to touch her breakfast that morning, which Cap assured her was normal.
I had to pull over halfway through my first race so I could vomit up my Weetabix, he’d told her, which hadn’t done much for her nerves.
Her father’s blue eyes were serious. So like her own, people liked to say. Cap had the same shade of violet too, although he was always smiling, so she supposed that it was harder to see the similarity.
“Well,” her father said, “you’re much braver than me. I still brick it when I have to go onstage after a show and thank the audience. Massive jelly legs.”
She paused. “Really?”
“Always.”
She chewed her lip. The rain was picking up; it would be hard to see the track. “What if I lose today?”
He smiled. “You won’t.”
“But what if I do?”
She tried to hide the anxiety in her voice, but it leaked out anyway. Her father reached down, adjusting the strap of her helmet.
“Can I tell you a secret?” His fingers were warm and sure. “Every winner has started out as a loser. You lose and you lose, and it lights a fire in your belly. And one day, when you win, it’ll feel better for all the times you’ve lost. Does that make sense?”
She considered this. “I’d still like to win, though.”
Her father let out a throaty laugh, as if she’d surprised him. He shook his head, his blue eyes the only patch of warm summer sky. “Then go out there and show them what you’ve got, duck.”