CHAPTER FORTY-TWO CECI AND CLARKE
Chapter Forty-two
Ceci and Clarke
Ceci
The high-pitched screech of the turbo engines firing up was the only thing that could puncture the steady hum of so many voices in the paddock—the engineers, mechanics, team principals, press, and fans.
The air was cutting and caustic with the smell of oil and rubber that scorched the nose and left a bitter sting at the back of the throat.
It was the final race of the season—Suzuka, Japan.
Ceci smiled at Pixel, grateful both she and Aunt Delilah were able to fly out for it.
“It really does suit you,” Pixel said, admiring the scarf Ceci wore about her neck.
Pixel gave a pointed look at her friend.
“Just say it, already,” Ceci huffed.
“I was waiting for you to.”
Ceci had felt compelled to wear it, even if Clarke didn’t see her in it.
She should have worn it before. It just felt right after what she’d learned about him planting all those forget-me-nots.
My God, it looked like there were over a mile of them.
How long had it taken him? On his knees, digging the earth for each and every one.
Athos had told her he was out there hour after hour, day after day.
She felt an ache she couldn’t name. She only knew it felt like a hand had clutched both her heart and breath and was pulling.
She couldn’t escape the feeling that hand might steal both.
Of course, it would be forget-me-nots because Sir Galahad remembered everything. But Ceci couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not.
Pixel sighed. “Okay, moving on. You made up your mind yet? If you do decide to go back to driving, be prepared for them to offer you a healthy bump in salary to keep you. Especially since you’ve earned them another trophy this year.”
The drivers’ trophy was still in contention, but the constructors’ trophy for the team was a lock—Blue Jet Lightning would win it again this year.
Ceci shrugged.
“And Clarke?”
“I miss him. But I just don’t see how we get past what happened or the things that were said.
And even if we could, can you really see me with a guy whose public persona is that immaculate, whose image is so pristine, who always has to do the right thing and at the right time and in the right way so as never to offend anyone? ”
“I don’t know if that’s fair. From some of the things you’ve told me, it sounds like he’s loosened up some, lowered that knight’s shield in a manner of speaking.”
What Pixel said was true. Thinking of it sent a warm glow to Ceci’s cheeks but it also left a cold hard pit deep in her gut. Because she didn’t know if it was enough. And if it was? She was afraid it might be too little, too late.
Ceci felt someone tap her on the back. She turned to see Lorenzo Romano, team principal for the F3 team Bolt Racing.
“Congrats on another Constructors’.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
He lowered his voice. “This is on the down-low. I know neither of us would want this going public before it was a sure thing. But is it true you’re thinking of going back to driving?”
Ceci blinked. “How—”
Shaking his head, he held up his hand. “I’m not going to go there.
I promised I wouldn’t say. But will you come to us first if you do?
I mean, given you can get back into tip-top form.
We’re going to need another driver, and if you still got what you had when you left, hell, we’d love to see you on our team. ”
“I haven’t decided yet. When I do, I’ll let you know.”
“If you do, it’ll be big news. There are some drivers who also went on to become team principals, but they all took a one-way trip. Not one of them has ever gone back. Then again, none of them were as young as you, and as we all know, you like doing things your own way.”
“Well, well, well,” said Pixel after he’d gone.
“How do you suppose he found out?”
Pixel made a face. “Come on, Ceci, we both know how he did.”
Sir Stick Up His Ass.
It had to be.
Aunt Delilah came walking up.
Pixel whispered in Ceci’s ear. “Have you told her Clarke is the Man in the Iron Mask?”
“No. No point in doing so now.”
Her aunt’s eyes lit up seeing the scarf.
“And here I thought you didn’t wear scarves.”
Aunt Delilah fingered the delicate material and cast a sly glance at her niece.
“And so, we win the trophy but not the prize. Our hero still eludes us.”
Clarke
Clarke’s father and brothers were about to head over to the Paddock Club.
His father gave him one final hug. “Just focus on the road ahead of you. Forget the rest of it. See you after the race, up there on the podium in first place!”
Watching his father walk away, Clarke sighed.
“Give him a break,” said Athos, “he can’t help himself.”
“I know.” He looked at each of his brothers in turn. “Any words of wisdom?”
Porthos placed his heavy mitts on both of Clarke’s shoulders. “The plan is not wanting in grandeur; I see but one impediment … impossibility.”
Clarke shook his head. “Well, that was hardly helpful. Or encouraging.”
Aramis stepped forward. “Porthos is like me. He prefers…enterprises that are considered mad and impossible.”
“I meant race-wise, strategy-wise,” Clarke said.
It was Athos’s turn now. “You asked for wisdom. When you are in doubt as to which you should serve, forsake the material appearance for the invisible principle, for this is everything.”
Clarke sighed. Leave it to my brothers to quote Alexandre Dumas at such a moment.
Once Aramis and Porthos were gone, Athos turned to Clarke.
“It seems like you got over what happened on that mountain. But now I’m worried, you’re doing the same thing with what happened to Anker.
Your performance has been subpar ever since.
Yes, it was a stupid move you made with Tilney, but Anker was pressing—he wanted to pass you guys, he went for too much, and he put himself in a position where his reaction time was a fraction behind what it should have been.
I’m just hoping you learned something from being with Ceci, even if you guys are no longer together. ”
“Ceci?”
“Yeah, Ceci. Let loose a little, let go of that vise grip you’ve had on yourself since Aspen.
Just try not to take on what doesn’t belong to you.
You have a tendency to make yourself responsible for other people’s actions.
When you do that, you hijack them. You take over their life and make it your own.
It should be their story to tell, not yours. ”
Do I really do that?
“I know you feel bad and you care about Niles and Naomi, and I love you for that. Hell, you even care about Anker. But you take on guilt in a way that makes others feel guilty.”
“I do?”
Athos nodded. “I think Dad feels it. I know I do. Like we could have done—should be doing more to get you through this. I’m guessing Naomi and Niles have felt it too. That they played a part in every poor performance on the track the past few years.”
Was Anker trying to tell me the same thing?
Anker and Athos having the same insight? That’s a scary thought.
Athos pulled Clarke in for a hug. “See you after the race.”
When Athos released him, Clarke saw his brother’s eyes light up and he watched Athos wave. Clarke turned around and saw Ceci waving back.
The scarf. She’s wearing the scarf.
Their eyes met. There was a stillness that overcame him. He thought maybe she felt it too.
It’s those eyes, those gray eyes.
Only her eyes can do that. Make me feel like I’m looking into the horizon.
He flinched when Athos slapped him on the back. “See you after the race,” his brother said, before walking off.
Clarke heard a whimper and looked down to see Holly. Having a sudden thought, he grabbed her and held her up so Ceci could see. She beamed and suddenly Boudica appeared.
Someone came up behind Ceci then, and she turned around. He watched her walk away until he couldn’t see her anymore. She was gone.
“I suppose you’ll be wanting some words of wisdom.”
He turned around to find Aunt Delilah.
She placed her hands on his cheeks and for the first time there was nothing sly or calculated in her gaze.
“Just remember, dear: I wear the mask. It does not wear me.”