Free Red Flags by Tammy Kaehler Page B

car,” I added. “Remember the traction circle.”
    I referred to a simple diagram of a circle split into four quadrants, representing acceleration and braking in the top and bottom halves and left and right turning in the left and right halves. The point of the diagram was to show where the limit of traction was for any combination of turning, acceleration, or braking. At the limit of tire grip for acceleration or braking, there could be no turning; at the limit of grip for turning, there could be no throttle or braking. Or the car would break loose. Plenty of novices thought they were doing the right thing by pushing the limits of tire adhesion, only to end up outside the circle and in the wall.
    â€œI kept that in mind the whole time, and I was very careful to do one thing at a time. I got smoother by the end. But I’m sure I was doing something wrong.” She took another bite of salad.
    â€œShow me your lines.” I moved my plate to the side and studied the notes she’d made on the map of the Long Beach temporary street circuit. I quizzed her on them, particularly coming out of Turns 5 and 8, where drivers wanted to use every inch of the track on exit to carry speed through the corners and get on the throttle quickly. Which meant we ended up a hairsbreadth away from the solid, concrete walls that lined the track, something that could rattle even pros.
    She scrunched up her nose. “I probably wasn’t that close.”
    â€œI didn’t expect you to be.” I smiled. “But when you get back out there, remember you’re supposed to be close to the walls there—don’t look at them or you’ll drive into them. Look down the track and see yourself running next to the wall. You want to be slow in and fast out of Turns 5, 8, and 11, to lead onto your straights.”
    â€œEven though the front straight is one big curve with an apex.”
    â€œRight. You’re flat out down Shoreline Boulevard, so that makes it straight enough. There and the back straight are where you can build speed and sneak up on slower cars.”
    She stared at her half-eaten salad. I suspected she was seeing herself driving the track in her mind.
    I folded the map and handed it to her. “You looked comfortable yesterday in practice, and I know you can add speed. Keep thinking about hitting your apexes, placing your car closer to the wall, and that traction circle. You’ll be great.”
    â€œYou’ll be there for practice and qualifying?”
    â€œYou bet. I really want to see you kick some celebrity ass.”
    â€œThat sounds like something I want in on.” Lucas pulled out a chair with one hand, holding a tray of food in the other. “May I?”
    â€œSit down,” Maddie told him. “I’m going to kick some ass on the track next week.”
    Lucas unloaded his own meatloaf and leaned over to set his tray on a nearby empty table. “I’m not interrupting, right? I don’t mind if you need to finish talking racing.”
    She shook her head. “We’re done. I was getting my wrap-up pep talk.”
    â€œAm I that predictable?” I asked, struggling to gather my wits. I wasn’t sure if it was the fame or his drool-worthy looks, but Lucas scrambled my brain. Pull yourself together.
    Maddie smiled at me. “You leave me knowing I can improve, but you also make sure I feel good about what I’ve done and what I’m capable of. You’re a good coach.”
    â€œI’m glad to hear it. That’s what you’re paying me for.” I noticed Lucas gulping down his food at record-setting pace.
    Maddie waved a hand. “I pay a lot of people for services and consultation. You’re good because you take the trouble to get inside my head and understand what I need. Plus I like you. I’ve found a friend, not only a coach.”
    I couldn’t help grinning at her. “Agreed. And it’ll be even better