52. Nevaeh
Leonard and I have been getting along really well. He enjoys it whenever I let him take the pictures and answers any question happily. At one point on Friday, he even shared a story about his first F1 race with me. He wasn’t as talkative today, but I don’t blame him.
Qualifying was brutal. The sun was burning hot in Barcelona today, and all the drivers were battling with the heat throughout the preparations and Qualifying itself. Adrian took pole with Lincoln in second, Gabriel in third, Val in fucking fourth, which I already hugged her for, James in fifth, Kyle in seventh, and Leonard in eighth, followed by the rest of the drivers.
I’m sitting on the bed in my hotel room as a text lights up my screen. Adrian’s with his team and told me he’d see me tomorrow so I’m not surprised to see Val”s name appear instead.
I smile to myself before assuring her I will be there. My feet bring me into the bathroom where I look at myself in the mirror. My fingers wrap around the bracelet Adrian gave me, my chest tight with anxiety. Today is a very difficult day, especially because there’s no trigger, no attack. It’s just there, in my chest, making me feel heavy and unmotivated. I feel like crying and sleeping, but I’m too on edge to do either of these things.
Maybe being around Val and seeing the surprise she has for me will cheer me up.
I’m about to leave when my phone rings.
“Hello?” I ask as I answer my boss’ call.
“Hi, Nevaeh, I know it’s late, but I have some great news. After this season, I would like to offer you the opportunity to work with the tennis department, if you’re still interested,” Ms. Martin says, surprise spreading through me.
“Yes! I’m very interested,” I say.
“Great, because I looked over the client list you gave us, and you were right. Some of them came to Griffin Sports because of you. They want you to interview the players and write similar articles like the ones you write for the drivers,” she explains, but I can’t believe what she’s saying.
This was my dream job.
She’s handing me my dream job.
“Thank you for calling me,” I say, hearing her chuckle through the phone.
“My pleasure. Finish out the season, keep doing the good job you are, and I promise you’ll be in the tennis department by next year,” she replies, and my knees go a little weak. I hold onto the sink in my hotel bathroom, doing my best not to burst into tears.
She hangs up without another word, leaving me to cover my mouth and happiness to spread through my chest. I try to linger on it, to remind myself this is the job of my dreams, that I did it.
But something in my chest revolts against the thought of switching departments.
Something that’s grown attached to everyone I’ve been working with. To the sport I never thought I’d fall in love with.
My heart.
My heart is begging me not to take this job, to stay in the world of Formula One because I didn’t just find the man I care for here. I found a family. I found people who care for me unconditionally. I found friends who don’t use me but listen to me and allow me to comfort them in return. I’ve found a love for racing, for the excitement of the sport.
Then I think of Adrian and how we’ll never be able to be together as long as I’m working in Formula One.
My head hurts. My heart is all over the place. My anxiety returns tenfold.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Half an hour later, I arrive at the track and make my way to the Velocità Rossa garage where Valentina is leaning against a stunning red Velocità Rossa. An easy smile lingers on her lips as she speaks to James and Gabriel. Out of habit, I scan my surroundings to look for Adrian, but he isn’t here, and a little disappointment shoots through me at that realization.
Val beams at me when I reach her before flinging her arms around my neck.
“Thank you for coming, Nevs!” she says, opening the door and reaching inside the car to grab a helmet. It’s one of hers, except nothing is covering the face.
“What’s this for?” I ask as I take it from her. Happiness spreads all over her features, and even Gabriel and James are smiling at me.
“You told us once how jealous you are that we get to drive such awesome cars around the track, but you don’t have to be anymore. You get to drive this one,” Val informs me, making a shocked, swift laugh escape me.
“Are you serious?” She nods with a grin and takes my hand to lead me to the driver”s side. “But you’re going to sit with me, right?” I ask, excited and scared at the same time.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but I won’t accept it if she tells me to go through with this by myself. My anxiety has already spiked, but the comforting smile she offers me settles the feeling a little.
It’ll be okay.
Deep breaths.
“Of course, love, I’d never let you do this by yourself,” she assures me while opening the door and gesturing for me to get in. “This is going to be so much fun,” she adds, shutting it once more and skipping over to the other side to kiss Gabriel once before joining me in the car.
My fingers run over the leather interior and then trace the Velocità Rossa logo on the horn of the wheel. Val gives me a brief instruction and everything I have to know. Then, she tells me to start the engine and drive out of the pitlane and onto the track.
“Go slow, see what speed you’re ready for, what you can handle,” Val adds, so I start driving slowly instead of speeding down the track.
“My father’s taken me to race in cars like these since I was a kid. Sometimes he even let me drive them, but never like this,” I say, giggling a little as we make our way into the sixth corner of the track if I’ve been counting right.
I press down on the gas pedal, steadily increasing the speed but chickening out as soon as I see a corner. It’s dark outside, but the track is lit up all around, allowing me to see everything in front of us.
There’s just something so beautiful about a Formula One track at night, the way there’s nothing around us but the sound of the roaring engine, the lights giving it an orangey hue, and the air just smells different. It”s an entirely different feeling in itself, and I think that’s why I’ve always enjoyed the night races more whenever Papa took me with him as a kid.
Sometimes, I forget how big of a role Formula One has played in my life since I was a child. My father has been a big part of that, of course, but I also remember Nova cheering at the top of her lungs for her favorite driver, Adrian’s dad.
As I got older, Mama started taking me to tennis games, and once I started playing it too, I no longer cared about anything else. Even after I lost my dream, I thought any connection to tennis, to the sport I fell in love with, would make the pain of losing my dream less consuming. Until now. Until I fell in love all over again.
I’m twenty-one years old. I always thought I knew exactly what I wanted, what I was working toward. I was miserable in this job when I was working with Gillian, but I felt so free when I started working with the drivers. They showed me the beautiful sides of Formula One. The speed, the thrill, the fans that cheer for you no matter what. The family they created here. It almost feels like I’m part of that now, and I don’t want to leave.
“You can do it,” Val encourages, and I take a deep breath. “There is a straight line coming up, okay? Fucking floor it,” she says, and I laugh before doing exactly as I’m told.
“Woohoooooo!” I scream but slow down soon after as the straight comes to an end.
“Good job,” she praises and claps her hands together to cheer me on.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and I finally get it. I understand why the drivers crave this, the thrill and excitement. The danger and power. The lightness of my body, the speed as we race down the track, it all feels like nothing can touch me. Like I’m invincible.
It’s an addictive feeling.
When I tell Val what I’m thinking, she beams up at me.
“It is. It’s everything. I’ve loved it for so long, I did everything to make it my life,” she says and smiles at the track ahead of us.
“Can we switch seats? I would love to watch you race for a little,” I admit, and Valentina tilts her head my way, giving me a wicked grin.
“Absolutely we can, but I won’t go slow or easy on you,” she warns, but I’m already bringing the car to the start line so we can switch places.
Once Valentina is behind the wheel, her eyes light up and her body relaxes into the seat. She waits for me to put my seatbelt on before flooring it and racing down the track. If I could, I’d fly out of my seat. A laugh bursts free, one that turns into a squeal as she hits the corner and drifts. She lets out a whoop before stepping on the gas again and letting out an evil laugh.
“Hold on tight, Nevaeh,” she instructs before going even faster.
I screw my eyes shut, holding back another laugh before looking at my friend. Whenever I see her in this environment, I realize over and over that Val was born to do this. She was born to be a racer, to break down barriers men have built around her for as long as she’s been trying to make it into this sport.
But nothing could stop her. Nothing and no one, and I admire her for that. I admire her strength and determination. I admire the way she never gave up. I admire that she knew what she wanted and went for it.
“You were made for this,” I say as she races down the main straight once more, drifting into the first corner. My fingers hold onto the door and the middle console as she laughs again, slowing down to, probably, keep my heart from stopping altogether.
“It didn’t always feel like that, you know? I felt so lost and worthless more times than not. That’s how they made me feel. Like I wasn’t worthy of a spot in this world. Sometimes I still feel that way, like if I don’t work every single second of the day to earn it, I’m not good enough for it,” she admits, turning the wheel to take a corner.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think there’s a driver on the grid who deserves a seat in Formula One more than you do. You’ve outperformed Leonard in almost every race. You have pushed Alfa Adrenalina higher on the Constructors’ Championship standings than they have been in a long time. On top of all of that, you and Leonard are still working to open your driver academy soon. You’re remarkable in every way, Val.”
She brings the car to a stop in front of James and Gabriel, turning to me to show the tears that have shot into her eyes.
“I’ve never had a friend like you, Nevaeh, but I want you to know that I care about you so much. That isn’t easy for me to say, but I mean it,” she says, so I fling my arms around her and hold on tight.
“I care about you, too,” I reply, leaning back and letting a tear fall down my cheek right as two stream down hers.
I wipe mine away and she wipes hers before we get out of the car to greet the two men waiting for us. Gabriel frowns a little when he sees Valentina’s teary eyes, but she merely wraps her arms around him for comfort. James looks away at the same moment I do, and our gazes meet, allowing me to see the pain in his eyes. He gives me a smile I know he doesn’t mean before walking away.
The helmet is so tight on my head that when the pressure leaves, I almost sigh in relief. Gabriel hands me my camera, and I flash him a smile.
My feet bring me to the front of the car so I can take a few photos. I squat down to find the best angles, like I always do, and then inspect the pictures on the small screen of my camera to make sure they turned out well. Then again, I don’t have to check to make sure anymore. The camera Adrian got me takes the best pictures. Even when the photos turn out blurry, there is a special kind of beauty to them.
“So handsome,” I mumble to myself, not realizing I’m no longer alone.
“Thank you,” my secret boyfriend’s familiar voice says, causing me to freeze in place. My head doesn’t know whether it wants to focus on the nostalgia of this moment from the day we first met or the fact that he’s here with me and everything’s perfect now. “But if you wanted a picture of me, you didn’t have to hide behind the car to take it,” he adds, and I grin at him.
Nostalgia briefly takes over but his presence ends up winning the battle, and I take a step toward him with my heart racing in the way it always does when he’s near me.
“Those are the first words you ever said to me,” I point out as he closes the distance between us, too.
“Best pickup line of my life,” he teases, so I playfully smack his stomach. He wraps me into a hug in response, kissing the top of my head.
“You shouldn’t be touching me like that here,” I say but don’t push away either.
“There’s no one here that doesn’t know, I promise,” he assures me. I melt into him, the emotional rollercoaster of today catching up with me now that I’m in his arms. “Talk to me.” I place my chin on his chest and crane my neck to look up at him. God, why is he so tall?
“What do you mean?”
“Something’s wrong, mon ange, I can feel it. Talk to me, and I’ll make it all better,” he says, his hands moving to my cheeks to cup them.
“I’ve been offered a job in the tennis department starting next season,” I explain, fighting back my tears.
I don’t understand why this choice makes me so sad.
“That’s incredible. It’s everything you wanted at the beginning of this year. Why are you sad?” His genuine pride makes me even more emotional.
“I’ve grown attached to the people, to the sport. To you,” I add the last two words, making him smile a little.
“I’ve grown attached to you, too, baby, but we’d find a way to make it work. People do it all the time, and I’m very motivated to make us work because I—” He cuts off and sucks in a sharp breath.
“I know,” I assure him, but he shakes his head.
“No, you don’t know because I haven’t said it. I’ve been so scared, Nevaeh. Ever since I’ve met you, I’ve been confused and terrified, but I couldn’t stay away. I couldn’t fight the hold you have on me, and I don’t want to,” he says and leans down to press his nose to mine.
“Adrian—” I start but cut off, unsure what to say.
“I never thought I’d find you,” he says, his head dropping to my chest so he can kiss the spot above my heart. “Never thought I’d believe in the possibility of love again.”
I lift my thumb and index finger to his chin, grabbing it in the same way he always does with me when he wants my undivided attention.
He didn’t tell me he’s in love with me, but it’s here, in this moment, when he’s given me the world, that I realize I’m in love with him. I’m so in love with him, my heart aches because of how full it is with him. I’m so in love with him, I don’t want to hide us from the world. I’m so in love with him, there’s no going back for me anymore.
“If you give me your heart, I promise, I’ll keep it safe,” I say, and his eyes fill with tears, but he blinks them away and kisses me instead.
“Je t’appartiens, mon paradis,” he repeats. “I belong to you, and that includes my heart. It’s yours.”
His lips wrap around mine again, and I lose myself in his taste, in his words, in his feelings.
“You make me feel safe, you tease me, you see me in ways no one else does. You bring me to my fucking knees, and I love it. I love that we were friends first. I love that we have so much in common but also some things we don’t because you’re always happy to let me introduce you to new parts of my world. I love sleeping in a bed with you and waking up to your face. I love it all. It’s sacred to me now, a gift from fate.” He takes a deep breath as he drags me even closer.
“But how could you feel safe if I scared you?”
“You scared me like racing scared me when I first started. You scared me because I’d never felt this way before, but I’m not that scared anymore.” He kisses me, leaving his lips on mine as he says, “It feels like I’ve been reserving my heart for you, Nevaeh, like it was only ever yours to take so I never let anyone close enough to it.”
He takes a breath for courage.
“Je suis amoureux de toi.”
There’s no translation needed. Nothing at all as the tears finally stream down my face. Adrian Romana, the man who doesn’t fall in love, just told me he loves me for the first time.
“Ich liebe dich,” he goes on, butchering the German language perfectly.
He kisses me once more, making me smile against his mouth, but I have to break the kiss to cover my mouth to hold the sob at bay.
“I love you, Nevaeh.”
“I love you endlessly, mein Mond,” I reply, flinging my arms around his neck and deepening our kiss.
He holds me close for a moment, nothing but the sound of his and my racing heart between us.
“Whatever it is you want to do, I’ll stick by your side. If you want to stay in F1 as a reporter, we’ll stay a secret. If you choose tennis, we’ll make our schedules work. Either way, we’ll figure it out. Together. I promise.”
And I believe him.
It just doesn’t make my choice any clearer.