kind of all-in-one overall things,” I said airily. My dad had bought a computer last month, and I’d done a bit of research into karting on the Net the night before.
“Well, I hope mine’s pink!” Fliss said, and everyone groaned.
“I think we have to wear gloves too,” Frankie added, winking at me. “You’re not the only one who went on the Net last night, Kenny!”
The karting centre was about fifteen miles from Cuddington. None of us quite knew what to expect, so when we arrived at the Silver Streak about twenty minutes later, we could hardly believe our eyes.
“Is that it?” Fliss gasped.
“It’s huge!” Rosie murmured, her eyes almost popping out of her head.
It was massive. The building was shaped a bit like a big dome, and there was a large carpark outside, which already had quite a few cars parked in it.
Silver Streak Karting Centre
“Look!” Lyndz pointed at the big sign, as we drove into the carpark. “It says there’s an adults’ track, and a separate track for the under-elevens.”
“Come on, Mum!” I yelled, bouncing up and down in my seat. I was getting well excited by now. “Put your foot down, and grab that empty parking space before that Mercedes gets it!”
“Oh, really, Kenny!” my mum said sternly. She reversed neatly into the empty space, just ahead of the Mercedes, and I cheered loudly. “I dread to think what you’re going to be like what you get on to that karting track.”
“Yeah, Kenny, haven’t you heard of road rage?” Fliss said.
“Or in this case, track rage!” Frankie grinned.
“Yeah, you lot had better stay out of my way,” I said, climbing out of the car. “If we have a race, I’m out to win!”
Frankie turned to Fliss.
“I bet you 50p Kenny crashes her kart,” she said confidently, holding out her hand. “Shake on it?”
“No, thanks,” Fliss retorted. “I can’t afford to lose 50p!”
“What a cheek!” I grumbled, as we went over to the entrance. “I’m going to be the fastest out of you lot.”
“I reckon Frankie will be a good driver,” Lyndz said. “She was the only one who didn’t get bumped when we went on the dodgems.”
“I think Fliss could be quite good,” Frankie remarked, “if she stops worrying about her hairdo for five minutes!”
“Well, I reckon Lyndz is going to be the best,” Rosie added. “She’s always good at things like this.”
“Mum, have you got those free passes?” I asked impatiently, as we went up to the ticket office.
My mum stared at me. “No, I thought Fliss gave them to you.”
“What!” I howled. “She did – but then I thought I gave them to you to look after! Oh no, that means we’ll have to go back home for them—”
“Oh, wait a minute.” My mum grinned at me, and then pulled them out of her handbag. “Here they are.”
I glared at her while the others roared.
“Looks like you’re not the only queen of the wind-up, Kenny!” Frankie spluttered.
“Oh, very funny, Mum!” I said crossly, as we went into the arena. Then I stopped and stared round. “Wow! Hey, you guys, look at this!”
There were karts hurtling round the tracks, right before our eyes. The track close to us was the kids’ one, and the adults’ track was on the other side of the building. The tracks weren’t just straight and flat, they had lots of bends as well as ramps leading up to bridges. They were surrounded by these banks, which must have been there to stop the karts coming off. There were men in overalls with flags, standing at the side watching everything that was going on – I think they were the race marshalls. The noise was pretty loud, but it looked incredibly exciting. I couldn’t wait to be out there doing exactly the same thing!
“Look, there’s a café and a restaurant as well,” Lyndz said as we made our way further into the arena.
“And somewhere for spectators,” Frankie added, pointing at a large, fenced-off area filled with seating.
“You’ll be able to sit there and watch us, Mum,” I said eagerly.
“Yes, and I’ve brought a book to read in case I get bored,” my mum replied.
“Bored!” I repeated, amazed. “How could anyone get bored watching the Sleepover Club go karting?”
Parents! Don’t you just love ’em?
“Well, I’ll try not to,” my mum said with a grin. “I’m off to have a cup of tea in the café. The girl at the ticket office said you’re to wait here, and someone will be along to get you kitted up and give you some driving instruction before you’re allowed out on the track.”
Fliss was looking a bit sick as my mum went off.
“Those karts go really fast, don’t they?” she muttered. “What if I can’t keep up?”
“And look, this is only a practice session,” Lyndz pointed out, glancing up. An illuminated board above our heads was flashing the words Practice Session at us. “It’s not even a race.”
“Don’t worry, Flissy,” I said. “I’ll just give you a bit of a bump up the backside with my kart!”
“Don’t you dare, Kenny!” Fliss squealed.
“Yeah, Kenny, this isn’t the dodgem cars now,” Frankie chimed in.
“You’ll probably get thrown off the track if you do something like that,” Rosie added.
We stood there watching the karts zoom round the track. There were eight of them going round, and there was one which was always at the front. It looked very different from the other karts, which were red, blue, green and white. This kart was black with gold flashes on it, and the driver was wearing a black race suit and a black helmet with gold writing on the front, which read King of the Track.
I nudged Frankie.
“Seen that one?” I pointed it out. “Bit flash, isn’t it?”
Frankie nodded. “I wonder who it is?”
Just then one of the race marshalls jumped out and waved a chequered flag. The karts started pulling off the track into the pit stop, the black and gold one at the front.
“Come on,” I said to the others. “Let’s go and have a nose!”
We went over to the side of the track, and hung around watching what was going on. Mr King of the Track got out of his kart, and took his helmet off. He was about our age. He had dark hair, and the name Josh was embroidered on his black race suit in gold. I dunno why, but he looked really steaming mad!
“Hey, you!” He was glaring at another boy, who was just getting out of his kart. “Don’t you know the rules? You’re not supposed to race during a practice session!”
“I only tried to overtake you because you cut me up,” the other boy retorted. “You were swinging about all over the place.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Josh snapped. “My dad owns this track, and I can get you banned from it any time I like!”
The other boy didn’t say anything this time, he just stormed off. Meanwhile, our eyes were out on stalks.
“What a bighead!” I whispered