She stuck her head out the window and looked down to see that the Porsche’s left rear tire looked odd. “Hey, Houston, I think we’ve got a problem.” “What?” “I think you might have a flat tire.” Eliza pulled over and sure enough, the tire was flat. Fortunately, Harry said, “No problem,” rolled up his sleeves, and located the jack and spare tire. “I could call Triple A,” said Eliza. “This’ll be quicker,” he said, putting the jack into place. “Plus, it’ll be educational,” said DJ with interest. “I’ve never changed a tire before.” “Wanna help?” asked Harry. “No,” said Eliza quickly. “She doesn’t.” Then as Harry worked on the car, she quietly reminded DJ that they’d just gotten her cleaned up. “I don’t want you to ruin my hard work.” “Right.” But DJ was thinking it didn’t really matter now. Taylor, once again, had gotten the advantage. Still, the day wasn’t over yet. “Hey, should we call Taylor and let them know we—”
