Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar Challenge – Chapter 18 Excerpt

Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar Challenge“Well?” asked Christopher, leaning over the table and looking at the list of scores on Astrid’s tablet screen, which to him appeared upside down.

“One hundred percent on the American Lit exam.”

“For you or for me?”

“For both of us,” said Astrid. “Looks like it’s still a tie—4.2 GPA for both of us.”

“I guess it all depends on the final for seventh period,” said Christopher. “How do you think you did in Outdoor Survival?”

“One hundred percent,” she replied. “How did you do in Baseball?”

“One hundred percent on the exam. I’m not too sure about the practical. I knew I shouldn’t have taken any sport with a ball!”

“Quit whining,” said Austin. “How did I do on the exam?”

“Seventy-eight,” said Astrid.

“Woo hoo!” he whooped. “I’m calling that a B minus!”

Astrid, Christopher, and Austin, along with Denise were seated in a booth at the Maxxim City Malt Shop. Each had a chocolate soda, and they were sharing an order of special fries. It was the afternoon of the last Friday of the school year. Exams were finally over.

“We don’t really have to go to school next week do we?” asked Austin. “I mean it’s not like we’re doing anything important. The seniors aren’t even going to be there.”

“It’s just for three days,” said Christopher. “It is important, too. It’s academic counseling and planning. You have to pick which classes you’re taking next year. It’s time to start preparing yourself for a career.”

“I’m getting a cushy job at Maxxim Industries,” said Austin. “I know the boss.”

“Keep holding onto that dream,” said Denise. “Astrid’s not going to hire anyone who doesn’t contribute something valuable.”

“I contribute,” he said. “I was a vital part of the invention of the hoverbike.”

“That is kind of true,” said Astrid. “Austin, I will always hold an open job for you as a custodian.”

“A janitor?”

“Well, with C in Geometry, you’re not likely to become an engineer.”

“Geometry’s not my kind of math. What if I worked hard next year? Maybe I could work for Denise’s dad?”

“Flipping burgers?” wondered Denise.

“No, not that dad. The other one. I could be a designer.”

“You’d have to really apply yourself, Austin,” said Astrid. “But if that’s what you really want to do, I’ll be glad to help you.”

At that moment, Astrid’s phone rang.


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