Chapter Five #2
“I really wish one of you would tell me what exactly happened between the two of you last year. You went from genuine friends to…” Georgia stopped, catching my deliberately blank expression.
The wall I’d thrown up so many times was now automatic.
Her hands went up in surrender. “You know what? Never mind. Enough about Lily. How are you doing?”
“Fine.” Not entirely true, but the word was habit these days.
Georgia’s brows arched, unimpressed by the obvious lie.
I scrubbed a hand over my face as I stared at the burning candle in front of me. Its once comforting scent now felt suffocating. “Do you think Lily made the right choice when signing with Rennen?”
“What’s wrong with Rennen?” Luca almost looked offended.
Unfortunately for Luca, while the Rennen car had been brilliant for Lily, he’d struggled a bit in the first few races, although his P2 in Miami had set him up for better success.
He was starting to get the hang of it, and I had to remember he was also a threat this year in the Rennen car.
“Why does it matter what I think?” Georgia prodded.
“It doesn’t,” I said quickly. “Just…”
My sister stopped me. “Lily’s done something even I never could.
She’s managed to break into one of the oldest, most decorated F1 teams. Instead of sitting in comfort, being protected by a completely female-owned and run operation, Lily sank her toes into the deep end.
Rennen F1 is as boy’s club as they come. ”
She paused, holding my gaze. “And you know what? She just might prove that she made the right decision. She’s second in the championship, Henri. Second. In her first season with them.”
Luca cleared his throat. “It’s true, Henri. I mean, in engineering meetings she’s focused, full of good ideas. I’ve driven this car for two years, and she’s just come in and usurped me. Honestly, it’s so impressive I haven’t had time to be angry that my new, younger teammate is beating me.”
I took a long sip of the tea Luca set down earlier, using the moment to compose myself.
Georgia sighed, long and heavy, and for the first time that night I properly looked at her.
The exhaustion was there in the tightness around her eyes, the way her shoulders carried tension even sitting down.
The forced brightness that meant she was pushing through fatigue to be here for me.
Guilt hit me hard. In all my stewing and whining about Lily and pole position and everything spinning out of control, I hadn’t taken a single moment to ask my sister how she was doing.
“How are you feeling at Valkyrie?” I asked finally. “P6 is good considering the issues you told me about.”
“Tough this season,” she admitted, some of the brightness fading from her voice. “We knew we’d probably struggle with the regulation changes, but this feels brutal. Still, I believe the team can get us there. If not this year, then next.”
The brutality of Formula 1. Every few years Formula 1 changed engineering specs, and this year had brought a design overhaul. While it was helpful in resetting the field, it felt crucifying to whoever had been in first place last year.
“You sound like you’re already bracing for disappointment.” Georgia had dominated the past three years, but now? Now she was fighting to get on the podium. “I’m sorry, Georgie.”
“Well, not all bad, eh?” she laughed, bumping my knee with hers. “It’ll finally give you an opportunity to beat me.”
I returned the gesture, though with considerably less enthusiasm.
Truthfully, it was all I’d thought about since pre-season. From my first flying lap, I could taste the success. This year I refused to be Georgia’s brother trailing behind, the driver who was always almost as good but never quite enough.
This year I was going to win the World Driver’s Championship.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll still make it hell for me.”
Georgia laughed, shooting me an appreciative smile. “Someone has to keep you humble.”
“Isn’t that what the media is for?”
As soon as I said the word, Georgia and Luca locked eyes again. Another silent conversation passed between them.
“So,” she said casually, but I heard the probing in her voice, “about that press conference earlier…”
My entire body went rigid. “What about it?”
“Henri.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “You practically froze when they asked about your pace. And that outburst? You should be thanking the other drivers for defusing whatever that was.”
“Oh, please. They were just playing it up for the journalists.”
Georgia’s hand found my wrist, stilling the restless tapping I hadn’t realized I was doing against the armrest. “I’m the one who gets flustered, who says the wrong thing, who needs media training refreshers. You’re the one who makes it look effortless. What happened today?”
The concern in her voice threatened to crack something open inside me. Something I’d worked hard to keep sealed since Miami. Since the crash that played on repeat behind my eyelids every time I closed my eyes.
The sound of metal tearing. The smell of burning rubber. The moment when everything went wrong.
“I’m fine.”
“So you keep saying.” Georgia’s grip tightened slightly, her thumb finding my pulse, which was now racing. “That moment in free practice yesterday—”
“Was nothing.” I cut her off.
“Henri—”
“I said I’m fine, Georgia. Arrêt!” I pulled my hand away from Georgia’s grip, standing abruptly enough that my knee hit the coffee table, making the teacups rattle.
My feet were already moving me toward the door, and I grabbed my bag in one swift motion.
“I need to prep for tomorrow’s Grand Prix.” I didn’t look back, couldn’t bear to see the worry etched across Georgia’s face. “Thanks for the tea.”
The door closed behind me with a soft click, cutting off whatever Georgia had started to say.