Looking around, I noticed that he had been in the very last spot, in the back.

That meant he had been losing, while I was gone.

The horn sounded, and I waited for him to catch up to me, so we could talk, while racing. His eyes seemed to light up, when he saw me.

"Glad to have you back, Alex," he said. "Awkward to say it in public, but...I missed you."

"Jackson, that crash...it didn't influence your races, did it?" I asked.

His smile was gone.

"I saw you in the last spot." I informed.

"Yeah..." he muttered. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I don't want you to lose your record."

"You know," he said. "I think I'm gonna stop worrying about that record, take things slow, ya know?"

That's how I know the crash changed him.

"Yeah," I said. "I know."

Jackson's smile returned, as he looked to me.

"I really missed you, Alex."

"I missed you too." I said.

"Heh..." he trailed off.

I smiled.

"I missed beating you in these races, like I will now!" I exclaimed, before speeding off.

"Hey!" he called, racing after me. I laughed, as we raced on.

"Catch you at the finish line, Jackson!" I called, speeding up.

"You're paying for that one, McQueen!"

---

One hundred feet away.

I was so close.

"Could this be it?" asked Bob. "Could Alexandria McQueen finally win a Piston Cup?"

I looked to Jackson. He gave me a half-smile, and slowed down.

"Take it." he said.

"Jackson, I-"

"Alex." he cut off. I stared at him, looking straight into his eyes. He nodded, a smile on his face, a genuine smile, nothing like I thought he would let me see, since we'd met.

"Take it."

I smiled, and zoomed ahead, while he raced behind me.

I crossed the finish line first.

---

I raced back to my pit, only to be crushed by a smiling Lena. I looked to Mom, hugging her, soon as Lena let go.

"Alex, you did it!" she exclaimed, and I gave her smile.

"Yeah..." I said, drifting off, and turning to face Jackson's pit. He turned to me, and gave me a wink. I smiled, turning back to Mom.

"I did it." I said.

---

Jackson's P.O.V:

I know what you're thinking: Jackson Storm is so heartless, and would never give up the Piston Cup, at least not without a catch!

Well, buds? You're wrong.

See, Alex?

She was worth it.

She was a racer who had been through it all. She went through the worst with a smile on her face, and when she thought she was done, when she thought she needed to give up, she found a reason to keep going.

She deserved that cup. I had enough of them, anyways.

Did it mean I'd quit racing? Absolutely not.

It just meant I'd play fair, this time.

---

Alex's P.O.V:

I had been with Lena, and it felt good to finally be able to talk about best friend things for once, and not racing or boyfriends.

We had been talking for a while, when I heard Jackson being called over by Tex.

I looked to Lena, and a smirk seemed to grow on her face.

"No," I said. "No, no no. We're not eavesdropping."

"Oh, come on, Alex," she said. "I wanna know!"

She then gasped.

"Maybe, he's asking him to join Rust-eze!" she exclaimed. I hit her with my tire.

"Ow!" she whined.

"We're not spying on Jackson, Lena," I said, turning around. "Besides, I trust Tex, and I know that whatever he wants out of Jackson, it's with good intention. Alright?" I added, turning to face her.

She was gone.

My eyes widened.

"Lena?" I asked.

She was already zooming off.

When I first introduced you to my story, I'm pretty sure I forgot to mention that babysitting a party of four-year-olds is easier than looking after her.

I noticed her heading straight for Jackson and Tex.

Oh-no, I thought.

Unfortunately, the paparazzi caught me before I caught her.

All I saw were flashes of light, and I was pretty sure that I was beginning to get vertigo.

"Guys, give me some room!" I called, but my voice was drowned out in the crowd of photographers and journalists.

"Miss McQueen, how do you feel, being the first female racer?"

"Miss McQueen, how does it feel, knowing you won the Piston Cup?"

"Miss McQueen, will your dad be going into retirement?"

First female racer.

I remembered what Smokey had said.

"Just another consequence of lettin' in these electric cars...these new cars don't know a single thing about racing..."

I looked to the paparazzi.

"Miss McQueen!"

"Miss McQueen!"

"Miss McQueen!"

"Stop!" I screamed, if only to silence them. "Just stop!"

Every reporter, journalist, and photographer that had gathered around me was silent.

"I'm not the first female in the league!" I yelled.

I looked to the silent crowd. A journalist spoke up, seemingly stuttering.

"M-Miss McQueen," she said. "What do you mean?"

"You guys know nothing about actual racing!" I yelled, looking around, so the entire crowd got the message.

I was sick and tired of everyone accepting lies as truth. I needed to put my tire down, and do something about it.

Now, I was.

"You guys, there were racers before us!" I exclaimed. "Amazing racers, better than any racer could ever be right now! Do you guys not remember Junior Moon, or River Scott? What about Louise Nash?" I asked. They looked to each other.

"Louise Nash was the first female racer, not me!" I exclaimed, noticing that more cars had gathered around, including Dad, Mom, Cruz, Jackson, and Lena. "Louise Nash had to steal her own number, and she was amazing, the best female racer you'd ever meet!"

I looked to the track.

"That over there? That's not racing!" I informed. "That's driving in a circle a bunch of times! Real racing would have been five-hundred of those, with just a crew chief, and the tires you own!"

Not a single car seemed to speak up.

"My dad? He repeatedly informed that he was going to continue racing! He decides when he's done, not some photographer or reporter! My relationship with Jackson isn't your decision, either! It's Jackson's, and mine! So, stop gathering around us like a hoard of bee-cars just to snoop into our personal lives! You're not putting anyone to shame, except for yourselves!"

With that, I drove off, a few heavy breaths escaping, as I left. Jackson and Lena managed to catch up with me.

"Hey, Champ," said Jackson. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," I answered, a little sharp at that. "I'm just fed up with these stupid reporters."

"That was really brave of you, Alex," said Lena. "I know I could never speak up like that."

I looked to Jackson.

"Getting off of that," I said, referring to everything that had just happened. "How'd your conversation with Tex go?"

He gave me a confused expression.

"Lena and I saw you talking with him." I explained.

"I wanted to- ow!" she whined.

I had interrupted her, by punching her with my tire, before she could spill to him that she was trying to play Spy. He gave her a smirk, then faced me.

"About that, uh.." he responded, drifting off. "I think we should talk about this..in private." he added, looking to Lena. She looked to the two of us, seemingly confused.

After a minute, she seemed to take the hint.

"Oh, uh..okay!" she exclaimed, a little too perkily. "I'll just...be going, haha! Don't you two worry about me at all!"

She drove off, and I looked to Jackson.

"You might wanna be careful with how you word this," I warned. "Lena's...not exactly one to keep a secret."

"Noted." he said.

"Anyways...what did you wanna tell me?" I asked, a little uncomfortable, knowing that Lena could be eavesdropping, as I always caught her doing.

Jackson looked around, then faced me, and from the expression in his eyes, I could tell he was serious.

"Tex asked me to join Rust-eze."

---

It took a minute to sink in.

To leave his original sponsor for Rust-eze would mean making a huge change, not only in his crew or paint, but in his image, his reputation.

The whole situation seemed to puzzle me.

"And...what did you say?" I asked, a small part of me questioning how Jackson would look in Rust-eze Red and Yellow.

"I said no." he answered. I raised a lid at him.

"No?" I asked. "Why no?"

I then realized what I had said.

"Not that I'm offended or anything!" I quickly added, before he could explain himself. He chuckled lightly.

"Easy, McQueen," he joked. "I get what you mean. I just...I think Igntr is where I do best."

I smiled in agreement, at that.

"Besides," he said. "I look better in black and blue then I do as a cluster of bell peppers."

"I'd rather look like a bell pepper, than a dent." I retorted. Jackson smirked, and he seemed to be driving closer to me.

"You love me."

I smiled again, and decided to give him a taste of his own oil, by doing the same thing as him.

"I do."

"Hey, Alex? Your mom and dad are-"

Jackson and I turned, to see none other than Lena, followed by Dad and Mom.

And, of course, you can't have a celebrity dad without a paparazzi following him.

Lena seemed a little wide-eyed, and she stared us down like we were something she drove on.

"Were...you guys about to kiss?" she asked.

I could feel myself turning redder than the paint I wore.

Jackson looked to Dad, Mom, Lena, and the paparazzi, tilted his head, smirked, and kissed me.

Yup, he kissed me right there, in front of the paparazzi.

And, I wanted to die of both embarrassment and excitement, because I knew that this was going to end up worldwide.

---

When we got home from Colorado, I rested my Piston Cup in Doc's old barn. I took a minute, to admire the photos of him and my dad on the walls.

To think that I had only seen him once in my life was heartbreaking, but to remember that he was the inspiration of my first championship renewed me.

It just seemed right that I win for him.

"How do you feel, Hotshot?" someone asked. I looked to the entrance of the barn.

Dad.

I gave him a small smile.

"I feel...accomplished," I answered. "I feel like I can do anything."

"That's how I felt when I won my first one," he responded, and the smile on his face told me he felt that way every time he won one. "I bet you're feeling a little excited, after that kiss with Jackson."

I looked away, embarrassed.

"Please don't start making Dad jokes." I said. Dad laughed, and I gave him a smile.

"I'm happy for you, Alex," he said. "You did a lot, today. I'm proud of you."

I turned to him, the same smile on my face.

"That means a lot to me, Dad." I said. He gave me another smile.

A silence seemed to subtly fall on the barn. Looking to the ground in thought, I became a little curious of one thing.

"Hey, Dad?" I asked. He looked at me, giving me a nod.

"Do you...have any videos?" I asked, referring to Doc. "You know...before he..."

I couldn't bring myself to say the word "passed".

Dad gave me an assuring smile.

"Just one," he said. "It's not the longest, but...you'd like it."

We got out Doc's old vintage projector, and Dad got the film reel. Putting it in, he let the projector do its thing.

When the video played, I saw Doc, in his old casual paint, and a small, red Porsche. She was the same one that I had seen in the photo, back at Smokey's. The same paint, the same smile.

I refused to believe that it was me I was watching.

"Boy, turn that camera off," said Doc, a chuckle following. "You look into it by accident, I won't have a video for the player."

"Shoo-wee, you get-her-done, Doc!" Mater exclaimed. I laughed a little.

"Over here, Mater," said Doc. "She's hyper; I need you just in case she slips, wrecks that little bumper of hers."

My past self seemed busy laughing her rear end off, eagerly awaiting her first (and unfortunately, only) race with the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. Doc looked to me.

"Alright, Squirt," he said. "Gotta dig your tires into the ground first, get yourself lined up. You go sliding into those cacti, we'll never find you."

I laughed, digging my little tires into the ground.

"Easy, Alex," said my Dad, supposedly from behind the camera. He seemed to laugh beforehand. "Don't blow your tires before the race starts!"

Doc looked to me, a small smile on his face.

"You dig 'em in," said Doc. "You don't marinate 'em in dirt."

Doc helped me out, and lined himself back up. He then directed me towards Luigi, who had been holding a small green flag on his side.

"Ol' Luigi here's gonna bring down that flag, and you're gonna go," he instructed. "You get to that end, I'll help you out."

He pointed to the end, where you usually would drift, in order to curve around.

"We're ready for ya, Luigi." said Doc.

"On your mark! Get set!" Luigi eagerly yelled. "And-a go!"

He lowered the flag, and off the both of us went. I zoomed through, until I got to the end, and I braked abruptly, almost flipping over. Doc laughed a little.

"Stop before you get to the end, not when you're at it," Doc informed. "Your dad learned that the hard way."

"Hey, float like a Cadillac," said Dad. Doc finished the sentence for him, a smile on his face.

"Sting like a Beemer," said Doc. "We'll go, again."

"Alex has to go get a bath," Mom perked up. "She and Doc can race another day."

"Can't wait for her to be old enough for the big leagues," said Dad. "Just imagine, our little girl racing on the pro-tracks."

Mom smiled.

"Well, she's a year old, now," she said. "You can handle seventeen more years, can't you, Stickers?"

"Remember who you're talking to, Sally," said Dad. "I'm Lightning McQueen. I can handle anything."

"Say that now, wait 'til she's in her teens," Doc spoke up. "You'll be wishin' you hadn't. Come on, Ally."

Ally...

I remembered Jackson calling me that.

Dad laughed, as Doc drove by.

"And, turn the camera off," he scolded, following Mom. "Even your kid listened the first time."

"Ha!" my mom laughed out.

And off the projector went.