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Chapter Eight
I drove out of my room, surprised that no one was around to greet me. Usually, Mom or Dad are in the kitchen or living room waiting for me before we head to Flo's. Quickly, I fixed myself up a bit before going out into the public.

When I arrived at the café, most cars were watching the latest racing news. Normally, I just brush it off. I don't really like filling my head with numbers and statics. The idea of a computer somehow predicting an outcome of a race seemed bizarre, especially because Dad and I had proven the numbers wrong in my first race.

But this time, my attention fell onto the tv. Cruz's name was bolded everywhere, declaring that she was picked as the next racer for Dinoco. I was overjoyed, of course. Cruz was perfect to be the next face.

Then my name appeared.

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused why I was thrown into this segment. At first, my mind quickly went to the pictures Cruz and I had taken together and the publicity of having Dad as her crew chief. But that wasn't it. Well, not all of it.

"We asked Stella McQueen what she thought about Cruz Ramirez and what we got was a sparking response," the female host announced, slightly frowning. "We have footage of Stella declaring that she wasn't afraid of Dinoco's newest competitor."

"Let's take a look." The male host replied, nodding for the video to play.

We were thrown back to last night at the race. Well, after the race. At my interrogation of the press. "Stella, how do you feel about having Cruz win this race?" The interviewer asked.

"There's no competition between us." I answered on the video.

What? That wasn't what I said at all! They had changed by responses! I furrowed my eyebrows, anxiety taking over. Oh no. This was completely ruining my reputation. My family's reputation.

"Why not, Miss McQueen?" She continued, concern present on her face.

"No comment." I replied, trying to leave the crowd. What the hell? This wasn't how it happened. They changed the whole situation!

"Miss McQueen. Please, answer us." Someone shouted in the background.

"Go back and interview someone else, like Cruz. I'm finished here. No more comments." I mumbled as I was freed.

The video cut once I reached Dad. The hosts turned came back, declaring their opinions on the story. "I think Stella better watch her back because Cruz will definitely be a large contender in the next Piston Cup season." The female host spoke.

"No kidding. But my real question is, who will Lightning McQueen coach? He's been a crew chief for Stella and Cruz. It's hard to replace someone who's helped you get this far." The male host spoke.

"We tried getting a response from the former Piston Cup racer, but he declined to answer any questions." The female replied.

My jaw had to be on the ground by now. Are you kidding me? Cars seriously took the time to cut my interview to make me seem like some stuck up snob? Oh, I was angry. Yet, at the same time, very afraid. What else have they ruined?

Dad parked beside me, anger nearly radiating off of him. If he wasn't painted red, I'm sure his anger would have shown. "You. Me. Talk," he commanded, his voice hard yet quiet enough that only I could hear. "Now." He added.

Quickly, I followed behind him. We drove to Doc's garage, where we would be safe to rant without anyone getting upset. It was nice because at least I was being scolded in private. "What the hell did you say?" He shouted, turning around to face me once the doors shut. 

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