The Right Track

Upon receiving her report card, Ramona’s first instinct was to find Clyde. 

It turned out that her twin brother’s instinct was the same, because they nearly collided in the school hallway.

“Straight A’s in everything but math,” she said.

Clyde shoved his report card in her face. “Same, but with one B in Spanish.”

As long as she could remember, people had compared Ramona to her brother. Who had grown more between doctor visits? Who was better at tuba? Life had turned into a game to prove she was the better twin. With their report cards evenly matched, she’d have to show him up at something else. Fortunately, she knew where that something would be—the race track

The Golden Wheel was a proving ground. On a track full of sharp turns, only the best could survive one lap, let alone a race. 

Ramona zipped up her blue suit, which contrasted Clyde’s red. Their suits matched their go-karts, assembled by the superstar engineer standing between them—their mother.

“All right,” Mom said. “This is a test run ahead of qualifiers next week. You’ve been working hard, so take it easy and have fun!”

Ramona grinned as she slipped her helmet on and climbed in.

“I’ll go easy on you,” said Clyde. 

Ignoring the taunt, she inhaled and crushed the gas pedal, sending the light, four-wheeled kart tearing around the track. At 12, the twins were finally old enough to qualify for nationals, but they’d have to beat 18 other competitors.

At the first turn, Ramona zipped around Clyde. Or she tried to, but he accelerated right past her. She slammed down on the pedal, gaining traction, but Clyde never even glanced her way. At the next turn, though, he veered over, forcing her off the course.

If he wanted to play dirty, she would too. When he drove her way again, she didn’t back off. Instead, she shifted toward him and— 

The world spun. 

Ramona’s kart rolled out of control, slamming her brother’s into the track wall with a thud. Clyde climbed out, throwing off his helmet. 

“You made us crash!”

Ramona scoffed. “You started it!”

 “What were you two thinking?” their mother shouted, running onto the track. “You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“But Mom—” Ramona said.

“Enough! There are more important things than winning.”

As much as Ramona wanted to pin the crash on Clyde, she knew it was partly her fault. But mostly his. He may be her brother, but that wouldn’t matter during the qualifiers. 

That top spot would be hers.

The crowd roared as Ramona patted down her blue suit, knees shaky as she strode out to her kart. No time for nerves. She had to win. 

Clyde nudged her. “You OK?”

Ramona straightened. “Fine. Nervous?”

“N-not at all,” he said.

Their mother told them to stick together, but only the top three drivers would qualify. What were the chances they’d both make it?

Clyde gasped. “Whoa!”

Following his eyes, Ramona gasped too. Clad in black from helmet to shoes was Tristan. He was two years older and always scored a spot at nationals. As he slid into his sleek black kart, the shake in Ramona’s knees spread through the rest of her. Clyde caught her eye before sliding on his helmet.

“Um, good luck,” Ramona said.

Clyde nodded. “You too, sis.”

With the racers now in place, it was time to survive the Golden Wheel. Even if that meant going against the best driver Ramona knew.

“We’re 10 laps in, and half of the drivers are out!” the announcer shouted. 

But Ramona could only hear her own heart pounding as she wove between two other drivers.

One hit the brakes, missing her by an inch, so close they would’ve splatted like pancakes. She had dodged him just in time, but another driver crashed into him. That all-too-familiar scraping of metal on metal sent shivers down her spine. 

As she stared in horror, Clyde slid right up to her. He raised a thumb, and she mimicked the gesture. Then he put the pedal to the metal and leaped to third place. 

Ramona stomped on the gas, whizzing by the fourth-place driver, putting her right on Clyde’s heels.

“What a showdown we have,” the announcer declared. “Anyone’s race, but Tristan seems like a strong bet!”

Sure enough, Tristan and the second-place driver were neck and neck. But then Tristan slowed, veering closer, and swiped the other driver’s rear. Wait, that wasn’t allowed. Right? 

Ramona didn’t have time to think. Clyde kept pushing forward as they began the two final laps. If she and her brother kept this up, they’d both qualify for nationals.

But he’d still beat her.

As she edged closer during the final lap, Clyde was right behind Tristan. That was, until Tristan began to slow again. Why was he letting her brother pass? 

Unless . . . 

Oh no. 

Tristan was going to ram into Clyde, just like he had with the other driver. 

Ramona swallowed. Clyde getting hit meant she’d come in second. She might even finish first.

Was that worth her brother losing or maybe getting hurt? 

Tristan was now in striking distance of her twin. 

Ramona closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowing down to maneuver beside Tristan, she waited. When he angled to hit her brother’s back tire, she veered sideways so Tristan rammed into her kart first. 

She was flying, flipping, and finally crashing in a tangle of black and blue. 

Ramona rose on uneven feet. Tristan stood up too. Then they watched her brother, who she’d worked so hard to beat, cross the finish line to the roar of cheers from the crowd.

“That’s the race. Clyde takes first place!”

Ramona clapped along with the crowd. Before taking the award stage, Clyde hurried back.

“You OK, sis?”

She paused, fighting back disappointment as her brother wrapped his arms around her. Mom was right. 

“Nice job,” Ramona said. “And don’t worry, I’ll get you next time.” 

^{This story was originally published in the March 2026 issue.}