Coco Gauff is ready for greatness, on her own terms

COCO GAUFF IS at a crossroads. She's sitting in the passenger seat of her first car while her dad, Corey, studies the computer in its dash. Radio off. Windows up. Air conditioning on.

«This was my birthday present,» Coco, who turned 18 in March, says of the black Audi e-tron she's never driven. «Usually, I hook my phone up in the car, but my dad uses the regular radio, like satellite radio.»

«I'm so old-fashioned,» Corey says.

Corey readjusts the driver's seat, turns right out of their gated community. He also hasn't driven this car since he purchased it four months ago. He and Coco, the No. 12 women's tennis player in the world, haven't been home much.

There was the Stuttgart Open in April. Madrid and Italy in May. The French Open in June. Wimbledon last week. This two-week stretch in mid-July is the longest they've been in Delray Beach all year.

Coco didn't want a car. She deferred when Corey offered to buy her one for her Sweet 16, then again on her 17th birthday. She also doesn't want to take her driving test, so she's still operating on a learner's permit. «I don't like driving,» Coco says. Besides, she has Grubhub when she's feeling Chick-fil-A, and Mom and Dad when she wants to take her younger brothers to see the new Minions movie and go bowling like she did Friday night. «I really don't need a car,» she says.

Dad gave her one anyway. «He's tired of driving me everywhere,» she says.

Today, Dad is driving her around Delray, passing through some of the landmarks of her childhood. It's been only three years since Coco erupted onto the tennis scene with a win over one of her idols, Venus Williams, and it's clear she's not about to give up all the comforts of that childhood: post-practice conversations in the car with