I pull on my padded gloves, bring my front wheels to the edge, and breathe. The view from the top of a drop--even a basic one like this--gets me going every time. Those tadpoles swimming in my chest and the sweat on my palms are the best kind of rush. Now that added jump waiting at the bottom makes my guts fizz like I ate a handful of live bees and chased them with a bottle of Coke.Right. Let's do this. (p. 4)
A few pages later the chapter ends with:
I'm Emelyn Ethridge. I'm twelve-and-a-half years old. Alejandra Che is my best friend.
I like Flamain' Hot Cheetos.
And I love speed. (p.8)
Sometimes I think it's too bad Dad and Nonny don't have wheels, too. Moving fast is the best way I know to keep ahead of feelings you'd rather shake off. (p. 34)
Nobody's paying us any mind. One thing I love about the festival is that pretty much nobody pays attention to my chair. It's almost like it's a part of my costume--like those people riding in the wooden troll wagon or bounding around on their spring-loaded stilts while telling fortunes. Everyone blends right in. (p. 101)