Logan sat in his drivers room— laying on his bed — one arm slung over his chest— the other tossed aside as he stared at the ceiling . . . His breathing gently and his lips parted

we’re giving your car to Alex for the race— James’ words ring in his mind — was he not enough to be on the track? He had tried . . . He promised he had tried . . . he thought—

The tears started to fall again — Logan put a hand to his face and took in a shaky breath— He missed being able to fit in. He missed Oscar.