Jackson seemed to notice the nervous look on my face, and he gave me a smirk.

"Hey, Champ." he addressed. I turned to him.

"Nervous?" he asked. I smiled.

"Nervous? Psh," I responded. "Maybe, for you."

He leaned against me a slight bit, and my smile grew, as I leaned back.

"What's got you down?" he asked. "Is it the mudflaps?"

"I don't wear mudflaps."

"Yeah, but your uncle does...sometimes."

By "uncle", he meant Mater. I could see why. Mater and Dad had been best friends for so long, you might as well just consider them brothers.

"Come on, Alex," he said. "I know you better than that."

I seemed to hesitate, which was odd, being the fact that I told Jackson pretty much everything, nowadays.

"Just this dream I had," I said. "It's no big deal."

"With the way you're acting, today, I'd say it is." he responded.

"I'm not acting any way."

"Tell it to you going thirty on a fifty, this morning."

"You're a real smart-aleck, today, aren't you, Jackson?"

"When am I not?"

"Exactly, when are you not?"

"Shut up and go to sleep, McQueen."

"Heh..."

---

I definitely needed that nap that Jackson offered (more like demanded).

The first race would be in Nashville, Tennessee, at the Motor Speedway of the South. We would head west from there, until we got to Los Angeles, California. We would then head back east to Florida.

"Hey, Princess," Jackson remarked, when the ride ended. "Time to get up. Ride's over."

Stretching a bit, I woke with a yawn. I was too tired to roll my eyes at his commentary.

"Really? Nothing?" he asked, seemingly weirded out at me for not responding.

"Mm...nope." I answered, tiredly. I then drove off.

"This way, Ally."

I turned around, driving the other way.

"Mmm...thanks, Jackie-Poo."

I managed to wake myself up a little later, because a tired Alex in front of a massive paparazzi is not a good situation to be in.

We drove over to our pits, to get ready. Jackson turned to my now-awakened form.

"I'll see you at the starting line," he said, before we kissed. "Don't be late."

"Yes, father." I teased. He smirked.

"Thank you, Daughter." he retaliated, before driving off. I gave him a smile, as Guido changed my tires for the race.

"Ah, young love." said Luigi. The others, including Mom and Lena, had arrived at this time, and were helping Cruz and I get ready.

Dad would be my crew chief, and Cruz would obviously be helping out. We'd be switching between pit stops.

I was surprised, when I found out that switching racers was allowed. However, I was happy that I'd be racing with Cruz.

She was living her dream. I looked up to her for that.

"Racers, start your engines!" the announcer called.

"See you at the stops," said Dad. "Show them what you got."

I nodded, speeding off.

"Alex!" Dad called. I turned around.

"No flirting!" he scolded. I smiled.

"Yeah, yeah!" I called back, speeding to my position at the starting line, just before the race began.

"Thirty mile-per-hour pit speed, Alex!'

"I knew that!" I called, slowing down.

The stoplight counted down, the horn sounded, and the flag waved. The racers and I sped off. Jackson caught up with me.

"I told you not to be late!" he scolded.

"I had a full plate!" I retorted.

"What full plate?" he asked. "You have Speedy Gonzales as your tire changer, and your crew chief is your veteran race-car father!"

That shut me up. Jackson gave me a smirk, seemingly noticing my silence.

"...Shut up." I scolded, though he had done nothing worth scolding. He laughed.

"See you at the finish line, McQueen!" he finished, before zooming off.

I smiled, driving after him.

---

"Boogidy boogidy boo, boys!" Darrell practically exclaimed. "I can already tell this season is gonna be a good one!"

The rush of the wind meant everything to me, this season. It wasn't just about the racing. Everything you felt during mattered; the rushing breeze, the sounds of tires zooming past you, and more importantly: who you're racing, especially if one of those opponents is someone close to you.

I sped down the track, pushing off the wall, in front of other racers.

"That's it, Alex," Dad encouraged into his headpiece. "Now, keep inside, so you don't lose your place at the turns."

I sped inside, ahead of Jackson. That new engine seemed to be the core of why I was doing so well.

"Roger that, Dad." I responded, keeping my position inside. I had kept my line pretty well, no matter if Jackson had passed me or not.

"For someone who couldn't even speak before we got here, you're doing pretty good, Rookie." said Jackson, a smirk on his face. I smiled.

"Who are you calling "Rookie", Rookie?" I asked, teasingly.

"Who's the one who won three cups in a row, Rookie?" he asked. I rolled my eyes, jokingly.

"The one who isn't paying attention, Rookie." I answered, speeding ahead, as he chuckled.

---

It had been a while, and I needed to pit, to let Cruz take my place. Speeding down into the pits, I stopped in front of Guido.

"It's your time to shine, Cruz." I said. Cruz smiled.

"Actually," she said. "I was thinking you could take this one on your own."

"On my-" I began, but I immediately shut my mouth, looking first to the track, then to Dad.

"I wanna see what you've got." he said.

"Dad, I can't do this." I told him.

"Of course you can!" he encouraged. "If you can unite two racing companies worth a billion dollars, and bring your old man back to the racetracks, you can win this. You're a racer, Alex."

I smiled, and he returned my smile.

"Use that." he finished. I nodded, giving him a smile, as Guido finished my tires, and I sped off.

"And, yet another fast stop by the McQueens!" Bob announced.

"She took the lead, but can she keep it?" he asked.

I wasn't as confident as before, and instead, I kept on, hopeful that I would win this one. Jackson and I had both agreed that we couldn't go easy on each other in the races.

I was hopeful, but not confident.

We had been racing for a few hours, and there were only around four or five laps left in the race. I managed to keep my lead, but Jackson was right behind me.

"We're getting down into the thick of it, folks!" Bob eagerly said.

"Could this be it, Fellas?" Darrell. "Will Alex finally win a race?"

I ignored the comments, speeding ahead.

Then, I dazed out. I didn't know what happened, until I saw what had happened in that dream I had, last night.

"Alex!" someone called.

It had been Jackson, again.

I heard a zooming sound, and I gasped, snapping out of my trance.

"Alex?" Dad asked. "What happened? You were doing so good! Are you okay?"

I nodded, speeding up. Jackson had taken the lead, and I needed to grab it back.

There were only two laps left.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I said. "I'm...I just..."

"Alex?" Dad asked, and his voice began to echo, until I fell back into my nightmare. "Alex, do you need to switch with Cruz?"

The memories of trying to disguise myself, and the arguments with Jackson, as well as the questions about my dad retiring, began flooding my mind, and I could barely see the track anymore.

"You just wanna help out your little howdy-haw shack-town!"

"How about you tell me who's only thinking about themselves?"

"You really thought you had a chance with the famous Jackson Storm?"

"It isn't gonna work out, Alex."

"Will you be going back to Storm Swift, Ms. McQueen?"

I tried to push those thoughts away, but I just...couldn't.

"Will your father be retiring, Miss McQueen?"

"Is your relationship with Jackson forced, or a deal?"

"Alex!" I heard Jackson calling, again.

"Alex! Watch out!" he warned.

"Alex!" I heard someone yell, throwing me back into reality, and before I could even see anything, I hit something, head on.

I hit a wall.

I tried to turn around, and head back onto the road, but another racer rammed into me, and I went airborne from the force of it.

I hit the pavement like a rock, and went flying again, rolling onto the ground, before stopping.

I couldn't remember a single thing, after that.

---

Jackson's P.O.V:

There had only been a lap left, and I hadn't even seen Alex go flying. Ten feet away from the Piston Cup, I stopped, looking to the Jumbotron.

What I saw on that screen wasn't Alex. It was a yellow race-car covered in dents and scratches. She didn't have a spoiler anymore, and parts of her lay on the pavement.

I refused to believe that she crashed. I realized exactly who she looked like:

Her father.

I was shocked that someone so full of talent, skill, more skill in one lug-nut than the whole body of a veteran, could go off the rail.

I turned around, speeding back to her, unable to even speak. The McQueens had already been at the scene, and the look on Sally's face told me everything I needed to know.

McQueen looked as if he could take down the entire stadium.

Paramedics seemed to fly everywhere, to check up on both Alex and the car that had rammed her, to see if both were okay.

"Alex?" the paramedic asked her. She didn't respond.

"Alex, can you hear me?" he asked, again.

Nothing.

I drove off.

I drove off, because I already knew.

I drove off, because I couldn't watch.

I drove off, because I remembered McQueen's crash.

I drove off, because I remembered causing his crash.

The race just seemed to stop, and no one went for the finish line. They were too focused on what had just happened to her. The reporters were silent.

The stadium was silent.

That was the closest I'd been to crying in public.

And, it was the first time anyone had seen McQueen in tears.

---

Fourth Months Later:

Jackson's P.O.V.:

I didn't hear a word from anyone in the McQueen family. Cruz had stayed with them, and called me every now and then to let me now how they were, which was bad.

Since the crash, I didn't bother taking the trip to Radiator Springs.

She was the only reason I'd visit; I remembered taking her home, and not seeing her until the next day. I remembered her dragging me all the way over there, thinking I was psychotic.

Would I have visited if we never dated?

Probably not.

I was lucky.

She was something else, something...good.

I hadn't been winning any races, lately. My mind was too focused on her. I couldn't concentrate. Every now and then, I'd forfeit, and come back just to bail again.

I decided to take the trip to Cali to see her, if not talk.

All that hard work she put into her dad was...gone.

I met Sally at the motel.

"How ya feeling?" she asked. I didn't respond. I gave her a certain look, as if I was trying to tell her not to bother.

She nodded her head towards Doc's barn.

"She's in there," she said. "I just thought..you might wanna see her."

I was quiet.

"What happened to her?"

"We think she was feeling over-pressured, and snapped," she answered. "She's awake right now...not in the best mood."

I didn't expect her to say the next thing she did:

"You're the only one she'll talk to," she continued. I looked down. "We mentioned your name, and her eyes lit up like nothing we'd seen."

That snapped my heart right in two. The girl had been through hell, and all she thought about was me.

She put me to shame.