Page 28 of Downforce

“Hi, Mom,” I greet.

“Hey, baby, how was your flight?”

I tell my mom about my rewatch of Ten Things I Hate About You and the book I read before napping.

She laughs. “You’ve seen that movie at least ten times.” My parents and brothers often tease me about my love of films from the nineties and early two-thousands. It’s not my fault I think the best movies were made before I was born.

“I hate that your father and I can’t be there this weekend.” Regret wraps around her voice.

“Travis knows you’re rooting for him,” I console. “Besides, Chloe needs you guys and Tristan. Trav has me, Alyssia, and Lucky.” My sister is in her final year of undergrad and her last season as a competitive fencer. She has a huge competition coming up this weekend, otherwise my parents and the rest of my siblings would be here.

“Chloe got the flowers you sent,” my mom tells me. “She loved them.”

“She texted me.”

My mom and I talk for a few more minutes about the upcoming events for my siblings and how busy we all are. Despite the upset tone that lingers in my mom’s voice, my heart smiles. My parents are the best people anyone could ask for.

There wasn’t an extracurricular we participated in, a sport we played, or a cause we stood up for that they didn’t support. It’s no wonder that one of my brothers has gone on to be the top of his sport, my other brother is in his final stretch of obtaining his Ph.D. in astrophysics, while Chloe is not only one of the best fencers in our state but has also set her sights on getting her Ph.D. in economics.

And what are you doing with your law degree and all of the energy your parents put into you?

I shake loose the thought in order to refocus on what my mother’s saying. She’s bringing up the changes to the grid that’ve been made since last season. That makes me think of something.

“Hey, Mom, is Dad around? I want to ask his opinion on something.”

“Sure. Hang on, baby.”

A few minutes later, my dad’s voice welcomes me.

“Hi, baby. No one’s bothering you down there, are they?” Anyone hearing my dad’s question might think he’s being playful.

I know better.

“No, Dad. Why would anyone bother me?”

“I don’t like you being far away by yourself.”

I roll my eyes toward the sky. “I’m not by myself. I’m working. Travis and Alyssia arrive tomorrow.”

“You should’ve waited to go with hi⁠—”

“Anyway,” I interrupt. “Dad, what do you think about women in sports?”

There’s a pause.

“Well, I’m going to watch your sister kick ass this weekend, and my voice is always the loudest in the room, so I’d say my thoughts are decently positive.”

I snicker thinking of the many times my dad’s embarrassed my sister and all of us with his effusive cheers and chants at our events.

He almost got into a fight with one of the judges at my state debate competition for being too loud.

“No, that didn’t come out right,” I correct. “I mean F1 specifically.”

I fill him in on my view of the Bree Walters situation.

“She deserves to be a Formula 1 driver,” I finish.

“No one deserves it. They earn it,” he tells me.