Chapter 7 #2
‘Ian? Nah, think he’s got a bit of a headache. Nils was chattier than normal on the radio today. Boy, he’s got a comment for literally everything, good or bad.’ He shakes his head, but he’s grinning at the same time. I can imagine watching Nils and Ian work together is a real treat.
Not that he needs to tell me about how much Nils can talk, I have to live with him when we’re in Europe. ‘He’s absolutely buzzing about coming sixth today, so I can’t blame him. He’s doing so well the second half of this season,’ I say.
‘Trust me, Ian is happy with his performance, too. In his own way.’ We both laugh, but I’m completely distracted by the way the corners of his eyes scrunch up as he laughs, even if it is a godawful sound that he produces – like a cross between a wheeze and a cackle.
How have I never noticed that before? ‘You okay? I thought you’d be off celebrating already,’ he asks.
‘I had a press line a mile long to deal with first. Apparently, I made a comeback today.’ I can’t help but smirk as I say it.
‘You did, indeed. Focus was back on point, and you made well-timed decisions like the Johannes we all know and love. It could have been either of you for the win. Harper was sneaky today, but next time it’ll be you.
’ I’ve heard it from almost every journalist out there, but it’s much sweeter hearing it from him because I know it’s genuine.
‘Thanks, man, and, fuck, I’m sorry for being such an arsehole recently.
I’m not going to give you a sob story, but I shouldn’t have been rude or disrespectful to you.
I hope you know that’s not the kind of guy I am.
’ My parents, my mom especially, would have been so disappointed in the way I’d spoken to him.
‘And thanks for keeping me going. I mean it. It’s been a shitshow, but you’ve listened and helped and kept me motivated when I didn’t want to be motivated. I appreciate that more than you know.’
I’m word-vomiting, but I want to make sure he understands. So much of the time I don’t think we value the guys outside of the car who make every single race weekend possible.
‘You’re welcome. I’m just glad you’ve been able to pull it back—’
‘We. We’ve been able to pull it back. We’re a team, Caleb.’
‘Sure, yeah, but my point still stands. You work hard, Johannes. You deserve this, and we’ll prove it at the end of the season when you win the championship.’
My phone pings, and I see that it’s Harper asking for an update about whether I’m coming tonight and I realise I made sure Nils was in, but didn’t actually give Harper an answer.
‘Sorry, I have one very demanding best friend. He gets needy if I don’t respond within ten minutes,’ I tell Caleb, and quickly fire a text back letting Harper know I’m in. His response is rapid, asking how many people I’m bringing as they’re booking a table for dinner first.
‘Yeah, I can’t imagine patience is one of Harper’s finest skills, either on or off the track,’ Caleb says.
He’s tucking his things into a satchel as I contemplate what I want my next move to be. No, not move. I’m not making any kind of move on him.
‘Do you want to get dinner?’
‘Dinner? With you?’
Yep, I see exactly how that might sound, because his face registers a confusing array of emotions. This was not the way to go about it.
‘Um, Harper’s asked me to go for dinner with him and Elijah and I’m guessing some of the other guys from the Hendersohm team – they’re pretty tight.
Nils is coming, and I wondered if maybe you’d like to join us.
Celebrate the weekend. Might be some drinks after if you fancy seeing the reformed and happily married version of messy Harper.
’ He’ll still want to drink everyone under the table, but he’ll be sober enough to have FaceTime sex with Kian. His words, not mine.
Caleb’s eyebrows tug as he rearranges something in his bag.
Shit. Maybe I should have organised dinner with just me, Nils, and Ian instead of throwing him in at the deep end.
We don’t have to be besties, but it would be nice to properly get to know the guy I trust with my life.
Plus, from everything I’ve seen over the last couple of weeks, I think he’d fit in well with our weird little mish-mash group of racing people we’re collecting.
The group includes both of Hendersohm’s race engineers, Cole and Ash, so he could at least talk shop all night with them if he truly desires.
The silence lingers for a second too long, and now I’m trying not to regret asking him.
‘I mean, obviously you definitely don’t have to.
I just thought it would be nice. I dunno, we live in this crazy bubble for nine months and it’s hard to be friends sometimes with the competition, but we make it work and I feel like you might enjoy getting away from the garage to celebrate our win, you know? ’
Stop talking, Johannes, you fucking prick.
‘Yeah, um, I would, you’re right. I’m in. Text me where you guys are heading. I need to finish a few things up here and head back to my room to get changed, but I can probably be ready for seven?’
‘Perfect. I need to round up Nils. I think he’s taking selfies with every single fan in the stands! See you later.’
I throw him a wave, glad the awkward moment is over. I’m pleased he’s coming out tonight, but I wish I could read him better. I guess that’s the point of getting to know him.
* * *
Two hours later, I’m throwing yet another outfit on the floor, unable to decide what to wear. Nils walks in, fully dressed and ready to leave.
‘You can’t go out like that! Or, well, I guess you can if you want to spend the whole evening being ogled.’ Nils is the straightest person I’ve ever met, but even he’s eying my mostly naked body.
‘Oh, really. Thanks, man, I’ll just get dressed, then.’ I kick the suitcase I’ve emptied all over the floor hoping for some inspiration.
‘That would be good considering we needed to leave five minutes ago.’
‘Shit!’
‘I could hear you having some kind of crisis in here, so I thought I’d see if I could help?’
I’ve had every pair of jeans and trousers on my body, but nothing looks right.
My shirts are too sheer, too tight, too bright, too …
not quite right. I’ve walked runways in some of the most uncomfortable outfits in the world, yet I can’t bring myself to wear my normal clothes for this dinner with friends.
‘Nothing looks right,’ I grumble, knowing exactly how pathetic it sounds.
‘I saw you wear those black jeans just the other night and they looked fine.’
‘Yeah, I was hoping for something a bit better than fine, young one.’ Since when is looking fine considered Johannes-worthy?
‘What about the navy trousers with the pleat in the front? They look good on you. With a white T-shirt? This dinner isn’t fancy, right?
’ He peers down at his baggy, mid-wash blue jeans and basic tee, and the black bomber jacket tossed over his shoulder.
It’s very Nils; it suits him. I wouldn’t wear it, but the late-teen skater style works on him with his baby face and white-blond hair.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘So why does it matter? Unless … are you looking to get laid tonight?’
‘No,’ I fire back almost immediately, which doesn’t help my case at all.
‘No, I’m not, but you know the cameras will be crawling tonight with all of the top three hanging out, and I finally feel like I’m in a much better headspace, so I don’t need someone tearing apart my outfit.
’ The words feel gross on my tongue. I never normally give a fuck about what the press think of my clothes.
I’ve always been known to dress quite androgynously and never felt pressure to change that.
Yet I am, surrounded by mountains of the clothes I would never normally let touch the floor. ‘Fuck! This is such a mess. I haven’t even moisturised yet.’ I flop down dramatically on the bed.
‘Ok, well, tidying up will have to wait. You go and moisturise and I’ll pick out an outfit for you.’ I glare at him, but he just shoos me into my en suite. I can’t believe I’m letting Nils pick my outfit, but my brain is so overwhelmed right now, and I desperately want to hold on to my good mood.
I take a minute at the sink, forehead pressed against the cool glass. Even my skin looks dry because I haven’t taken very good care of myself recently. I don’t know why I’m freaking out. I got P2 today, and this is a night out with my closest friends. Why am I so stressed?
‘Get your shit together, Johannes,’ I say to my reflection before opening my skincare fridge and grabbing my moisturiser and eye cream. I cleanse first, the icy cold water making me feel a little more alert, before I slather my face in luxury.
Finally, my skin has that signature glossy, brown Johannes glow that not even an outfit picked by Nils can dull.
‘Thirty seconds to get dressed!’ Nils calls from the doorway, tapping his Rolex.
‘Who put you in charge?’ I reply, before grabbing the black silky trousers he’s left out for me with one of my favourite Gucci belts to accessorise. ‘Not bad, young one.’ His smile grows and he finally leaves me to it.
I pair it with the soft-pink crisp cotton shirt Nils has selected. I’m surprised and impressed. Leaving several buttons open, I pull on the white trainers I got from a sponsored ad I did a couple of months ago. One final glance in the mirror and damn, I look hot.
‘Let’s go!’ I call out, grabbing my wallet and phone from the dresser. ‘Come on, why aren’t your shoes on? Get moving.’
‘I hate you!’ He reaches down to pull on his trainers, before eying me. ‘I did good, huh? You look great. All the men will be dying to take you back to theirs tonight.’ Is that a hint, I think.
‘You did okay, now move your ass. I’m surprised Harper’s not blowing up my phone right now.
’ Right on queue it buzzes in my hand and we both laugh.
‘You’ve sorted us an Uber right?’ He blanches and I take that as a no.
‘So you rushed me to get ready and we can’t even leave?
Do I have to do everything around here?’
‘Jeez, give me a break.’ He’s lucky I’m fond of him, but I’ve got a fair bit of making up to do after the way I’ve been acting recently so I let it go.
‘Right, it’s two minutes away. You got your wallet? I’m not covering you again tonight when you conveniently forget.’ He flashes it from the small bag slung across his chest. ‘Good, now move it!’
It’s a quick car ride over and before I know it, we’re pulling up at the restaurant-bar Harper’s chosen for the occasion.
‘Oh, is that Caleb? Did you invite him?’ Nils asks as we linger by the bar, my eyes scanning for our table. They quickly fall on his ginger curls that for once don’t look crushed and sweaty after being stuck under an RBF hat. Whatever product he’s using is really working for him right now.
His lean body looks great in the denim jacket he’s rocking, sunglasses that he definitely doesn’t need tucked into the breast pocket. Okay, Caleb. I see you.
‘Yeah, yeah, I didn’t think you’d want an evening with Ian, so I didn’t extend the invite. But Caleb’s cool, right?’ I look to him before we make our way to the table, and he glances back and forth between Caleb and me.
‘Mmmhmm. Coooool.’
Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, I clip his ear before guiding him to our table.
‘Don’t worry, the party has arrived! Call off the search, the evening can begin,’ I announce dramatically, then slide in next to Caleb. Nils sits opposite me, next to Elijah. Harper sits next to him, with Cole next to him and Ash opposite, beside Caleb.
At first it was just me and Harper against the world, but now it feels so good to have the table full. It’s nicer than I could have imagined to have a little gang of friends. I catch Caleb’s eye and smile.
Nice, indeed.