Braking Points Read Online Free PDF

pushing too much in the wrong conditions. I knew I hadn’t lost my nerve or faltered under pressure. But only time and more racing would convince my peers.
    A gust of warm air reached our table, bringing with it hints of a humid summer night. Somewhere on the other side of a score of bodies, I heard the screen door leading to the Tavern’s lawn and patio slam shut.
    â€œKate!”
    I snapped out of my daze at the sound and sight of Juliana in front of me.
    â€œJules.” I jumped up to hug her.
    The woman with Juliana flashed a large diamond wedding ring set as she pushed her honey-blonde hair behind her ears. Her face was familiar, but it wasn’t until her smile revealed the single dimple in her left cheek that I recognized Ellie, or Helen, our friend and former racing competitor.
    â€œEllie Grayson, how are you?” We hugged each other.
    â€œIt’s Prescott now, and I’m great. No need to ask how you are. Our Kate!” She held me at arms’ length and reached one hand out to Juliana. “Can you believe, the three of us together again? Almost like old times.”
    I felt the tightness of regret in my chest. “It’s been so long.”
    Juliana looked from me to Ellie. “Seven years.”
    We’d been an unlikely trio. At twenty-two, Ellie had been the mature and responsible one, innately kind, moving through the world secure in herself and confident in her actions and choices. Juliana, at twenty, was the stop-traffic gorgeous one—adept, controlled, racecar-driver Barbie, with a generous heart and fierce loyalty under the perfect exterior. I’d been the eighteen-year-old tomboy, a serious, focused, and emotional perfectionist. I studied them now. Seven years didn’t seem to have changed us much.
    The only females racing in a Skip Barber Formula series, we’d been forced together more by circumstance than choice. But we quickly became friends as we grumbled to each other about the lack of facilities for females at racetracks, as well as how the boys who were our competition treated us. By the end of the season, we traveled in a pack to and during race weekends and confided every slight, every racing tip, and any bit of gossip to each other. At the championship banquet, we swore undying friendship and vowed to keep in touch as the season ended.
    Our resolve lasted only a couple months, until Ellie bowed to the pressures of her family to focus more on college than racing, I took the racing seat both Juliana and I had been vying for, and Juliana went off to compete in beauty pageants. I’d always been sorry about how our friendship ended.
    I squeezed their hands before turning to introduce them to Holly, Tom, and Mike, who exchanged greetings and then left. Mike and Tom went to talk to friends a few tables away, and Holly left for dinner with Western Racing, the team she worked for as hospitality director. It felt almost like old times as Juliana, Ellie, and I sat down together—though in our past life we’d never done so over a clutter of empty beer bottles in a bar.
    â€œI can’t believe we’re all here.” I couldn’t stop smiling. “What have you been doing?”
    Ellie gestured to Juliana, who spoke first. “Y’all know I’d always done both pageants and racing? With mama pushing on me, I started taking off in the pageant world and spent a year as Miss Alabama.”
    â€œHow did I not know that?” I gasped.
    Juliana waved it off. “The racing world doesn’t pay much attention to pageants, though I did sing the national anthem at a Talladega NASCAR race that year. I made the top ten in Miss America—almost won the talent and congeniality portions. I still say that girl who won congeniality was a faker.”
    Ellie’s eyes twinkled, and I burst out laughing.
    â€œShe was!” Juliana insisted.
    Ellie covered Juliana’s hand with hers. “And now you’re working for