Chapter Matt Hernandez #4
Even Robert can tell it's something important. “For this weekend? Or?”
“We will outfit Robert’s car this weekend. If they test as well as we expect, then we’ll equip the other car.”
Matt isn’t even annoyed that the man can’t bring himself to call it ‘Car 48’ or ‘Matt’s car.’ What matters the most is that Andes might finally be competitive with the rest of the field. “So, I could have the upgrades by next race?”
“Only if they test well.”
Matt recognizes that dialogue. “What constitutes testing well?”
“We’ll run the data back at headquarters and make a decision.”
For the first time this season, an Andes makes it through to Q3. Robert’s tenth-place qualifying is celebrated like the second coming of the messiah. His ninth-place finish—and subsequent two points—even moreso.
Matt qualifies twelfth and finishes eleventh. That’s a net gain of one placement—the same as what Robert achieved in a better car.
Still, no points.
Matt returns to his driver’s room to find two shot-sized bottles of cheap tequila on his massage table. He doesn’t need to ask who they’re from.
Matt upends them over his mouth, one after the other. The small openings bubble as the liquid rushes out. It’s probably a bad idea to shoot tequila when he’s dehydrated, but his frustration eases with the burn.
If Robert can place in the points with the upgrades, it’s only a matter of time before Matt blows him out of the water.
Not enough data for upgrades in Austria.
Robert finishes tenth, Matt finishes twelfth.
In Spa, Robert damages his upgrades during free practice. After repairs, there are no parts left for Matt’s car.
Robert finishes ninth, Matt finishes a whopping fifteenth.
At the end of summer camp, a counselor pulled Mateo aside to talk to him about the special year-long weekend courses for children who were serious and wanted to race for a living.
It was expensive, though. Very expensive.
While Mateo’s family had a lot of love for him, it was very clear they didn’t have a lot of extra money lying around. Especially not the amount listed in the brochure the counselor had handed him.
Mateo couldn’t give up racing, but he also couldn’t afford to continue. With his back to the wall, he did what any other poor kid would do when chasing a hopeless dream—
He buttered up to someone who could afford it.
“I don’t think racing is for me,” Bobby said. He picked up a stick and whacked at the tires that lined the course. “Next year we should do somethin’ else. What about football? I'll be the quarterback and you're short so you can kick the ball.”
Mateo’s stomach dropped. “Something else? But you’re so good at racing!”
“Psssh.”
“No, es cierto! It’s true! The counselors just told me we should do the advanced version. Here, they gave me this brochure!” Mateo shoved the folded paper into Bobby’s hands and hoped it would ignite something in him. “They don’t let just anyone do it. You have to be special.”
“Why didn’t they ask me, then?”
Oops. That was a good question. “Because… Because your mother is the one who picks us up! They’re probably going to talk to her directly. You can’t give up now, you have a real talent for driving!”
Bobby quieted, which was rarely a good sign. Mateo waited with bated breath as Bobby seemed to mull over the pictures in the brochure. Finally, he nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Did you see that overtake I did in the last run?”
Mateo had been too far ahead of him to see anything. “Yeah! I bet your dad couldn’t even pull a move like that. And you’re five! Imagine how good you’ll be when you’re my age!”
Bobby shined with the praise and Mateo crossed his fingers and prayed every night that the younger boy would learn how to keep up at some point.
Mateo really, really liked to race. He couldn’t let his entire future depend on Bobby’s driving ability.
Or lack thereof.
The pundit shields herself from the rain as best as she can, one hand grasping the over-large umbrella, another holding on to a microphone. She shivers as she asks, “Do you like your chances in the rain?”
“I do.” Matt never feels uncomfortable in the rain. It’s the great equalizer. It’s his best chance to make an impact in a midfield car.
“You seem much more confident than last weekend.”
“Well, I have a pretty good feeling about Sunday.” He can’t help but smile. “I finally have the upgrades that Robert has been racing with, it’s a beautiful track, and I love the rain.”
“Do you think we’ll finally see a double points finish for Andes?”
Matt doesn’t give one flying fuck where his teammate finishes, as long as it’s behind him. “I really like our chances. I think you’ll be surprised.”
Matt pushes the car all the way into Q3 for the first time this season. He clocks a time that would’ve had him qualifying seventh, if not for the track limit deletion. As it is, he happily settles for tenth.
Especially since Robert qualifies twelfth.
Especially, especially since Robert had to sit in his garage while Matt got to go back out on track.
The data is there and it says, with no hesitancy, that Matt is the superior driver. It says there is absolutely no reason for Matt to have to give up his race for his teammate this time, and Matt is positively floating with excitement for Sunday.
On his way to the post-qualifying meeting, his eye catches the newest addition to the garage and Matt detours. Dipping into the visitor’s section, he offers a hand in greeting.
“Hello.” Matt smiles, shaking Robert’s girlfriend’s hand. “I’m Matt, Robert’s teammate.”
“Hello,” she replies. Her hand is thin, dainty—nothing like his.
Her skin is certainly sun-kissed, but still paler than his own. They have similar ringlets in their hair, but Matt’s locks are cropped close on the sides and hers flows in waves over her shoulders. Dark eyes? Sure. Athletically thin? Fine. But that’s where it ends.
“The guys asked me if you were my sister, so I thought I’d introduce myself.”
A look of surprise and recognition flashes across her face. “I’ve been asked that as well!”
So Laurent wasn’t the only one. Interesting.
“I’m starting to think— Well…” she trails off, but Matt can guess the end of that sentence.
“That people are a little racist?”
“Yes!” Her shoulders relax and her eyes light up. “I mean, you’re Mexican, right? Well, American, obviously, but your family’s from Mexico?”
That’s specific. He nods.
“Well, half my family is Guatemalan, and the other half is Dominican. Completely different.”
“Hey, babe.” Robert interrupts her, wrapping his arm around her waist. Though his words are directed to his girlfriend, he’s glaring at Matt. “He givin’ ya any trouble?”
“No, we were just talking.”
A smile tugs at Matt’s lip. “About how similar we are.”
Robert pulls her closer, possessive. “Not much to say then, huh?”
“Guess not.”
Apparently a broadcast camera was in the vicinity during their quick conversation. That night, the footage is shared all over socials like it’s the most exciting part of a wet qualifying.
Are you sure they’re not related?
Imagine Robert Miller destroying you on the track and then going home and destroying your sister in bed.
No one else thinks it’s sus that Matt’s chatting up Robert’s girl?
Aren’t they rivals? Why is Robert dating Matt’s clone?
Matt can’t tell if the whole girlfriend situation feels more like Robert misses him or Matt is just… easily replaced.
But that’s the theme of Formation 1—anyone can be replaced.
Even—
Matt slams his phone screen-side down onto the springy hotel mattress. Enough of that. He pulls up last year’s race on his laptop and gets to work. Any little bit of information can be the missing piece for his race.
There’s a knock on Matt’s driver’s room door and he pops out one of the buds of his earphones. “Yeah?”
“I know you’re probably getting in the zone,” a familiar voice says. “But we just wanted to stop by and wish you luck.”
Matt scrambles upright, tossing his phone somewhere behind him and throwing the door open. “I didn’t know y’all would be here this weekend!”
“We told Bobby to tell you.” Robert’s mom tsks, catching Matt as he falls into her for a hug. “How are you? How is Maria? Is she feeling better?”
“She is! I’ll tell her you asked.”
Matt lets Mrs. Miller go and turns to hug her husband. Mr. Miller still lifts him when he hugs, like Matt’s still some scrawny child instead of the scrawny adult he grew up to be.
“We’ll give the camera a wave for her,” Mrs. Miller says. “They never pass up a chance to put this one on the screen.”
“Not my fault you married someone so ruggedly handsome.” Mr. Miller presses his lips together in a pout and strikes a pose for an invisible camera.
“Yes, there’s a severe lack of attractive men in the paddock.” Matt shakes his head with mock concern. “That’s why they go searching for you. Nothing to do with all of your racing and championship wins.”
Mr. Miller’s eyebrows raise. “Are you insinuating there is a lack of race car drivers in this paddock?”
Matt’s stoic facade cracks and he laughs. “That’s a very good point."
“We’ve been watching the season, of course.” Softer, Mrs. Miller asks, “How have you been? Really?”
It’s stupid how emotional the question makes him. “Let’s just say I’ll be happy to move on next year. I hope Kaas has something a lil bit better in store for me.”
Both parents smile, but there’s sadness there. Matt blinks a couple of times, willing himself not to tear up. They know the team is favoring their own son, and yet they still stopped by to check up on him.
Matt’s grateful to have this extended family, even if they are attached to Robert.
The other driver’s door opens and Matt’s stomach drops.
“I thought I heard y’all in the hallway!” Robert appears behind his parents and herds them towards his own room. “Come on in, sorry it’s cramped.”
Mrs. Miller won’t be dissuaded. “Don’t be a stranger, Teo!” she calls out as Robert closes them inside his own room.