Now #3
We’ve just arrived at the Altron motorhome, and she looks up at me with her pretty hazel eyes.
“I don’t think I’ll see you again before lights out.
Wes is probably in there, so you won’t be alone.
If Justine doesn’t come to get you, ask him.
He’ll find someone to escort you around.
Might even do it himself. And when you’re back in the pit, make sure to ask for an extra headset. You’ll be able to hear me.”
“And talk to you?”
“I’d love that, but no. They need to keep the channel clear.”
“Alright.”
I lean in to kiss her, and she flinches back, eyes darting around at the activity. Before I can take it personally, she whispers, “Are you sure you want the whole world to know?”
The answer comes quickly and naturally. “I am. You?”
With her gaze on mine, she breathes slowly, twice, and then rises to her toes to press her lips on mine. I only had a peck in mind, but she lingers there, one of her delicate hands gripping my neck.
When she lets go, her cheeks are pink, her eyes bright, and her lips bent in an irrepressible smile. “I love you, princess,” I murmur.
“I love you, Hot Wheels. Go make me proud.”
“Aye aye.”
I go through the whole prerace ritual on autopilot.
I’ve done it hundreds of times at this point, and I tend to zone out—except when my attention is required.
I change into the fireproof base layer, listen to the debriefing, review the tire plan, check my steering wheel, warm up my neck, shoulders, and braking leg …
And I down three bottles of electrolyte water throughout the process.
The whole time, though, all I can think of is being done with this to return to Evie. I’m a man obsessed. And I don’t want to be anything else.
Once I’ve put on my race suit, I take the heart locket and its chain from the box I keep it in between races. As I slip it on, I realize she’ll soon know about it. Unless I keep it a secret from her, like I do with everybody else.
Tugging at the crewneck of my undershirt, I slip the locket in.
For safety reasons, the FIA doesn’t let us wear jewelry.
If I’m caught in a fire, the metal could act as a conductor and worsen my burns.
But I don’t plan on getting into an accident, and under so many layers of fireproof fabric, I should be fine.
Earlier this season, I forgot to hide it under there.
Some FIA officials noticed, and I was fined for wearing it.
I’ve been a little worried they might notice it now during inspection, aware that it exists.
It hasn’t come back to bite me in the ass, though, so I remain hopeful.
It’s not so much the fine that bothers me—I’d pay it every race if I had to.
It’s the fact that repeated offenses tend to lead to warnings and then reprimands. And that’s not good.
Per usual, the reconnaissance laps go smoothly, and after two of them, I exit the car and let the mechanics do their thing. Half an hour until lights out. But before that, more things to do.
The national anthem is when it starts feeling real, close. That’s usually when I clear my head and begin to focus. Soon after that, I head to my car, get strapped in, and while the team does their last checks, I slip on my gloves.
I wasn’t as focused as I should have been during the qualifying session, so I’m starting fourth today.
It shouldn’t be a problem, and I’ll quickly overtake the three drivers ahead of me.
So far this season, none of my opponents have given me a worthy challenge.
I’m either getting too good, or the car is.
There have been a few interesting chases this season, but none that genuinely required me to push myself harder than I ever have.
The formation lap feels a little odd. I’m not used to being behind cars like this. I’m usually the one leading, swerving left and right to warm up my tires. Though there shouldn’t be too much of a need for that. The sun has been beaming all morning, so the asphalt is quite hot.
Once I’m back in my spot, waiting for the ones behind to get into position, I ask through the radio, “Is Evie there?”
A few seconds, and Elliot answers, “Uh, yeah. She’s in the garage with Justine and Mr. Pryce.”
“Does she have a headset? Can she hear me?”
Another beat before I’m told, “She just gave a thumbs-up, so yes.”
“Good. Make sure Benji stays away from her, yeah? That old charmer might steal her away from me.”
A few laughs echo in my ears. Then Elliot says, “Will do. Now, focus. And have a good race, Jax.”
“I’m planning on it, yes.”
Mere seconds pass until the first red light turns on. Then the second. Then the third. My fingers tighten around the clutch paddle behind the wheel, ready to take off when the fifth one turns on. And then, it’s lights out.
I’m not used to starting from here, so the crowded first turn demands a little more maneuvering than usual.
But from then on, it becomes a thrilling chase.
The first few laps have me thinking I should do this more.
There’s prestige to starting in pole position but having to fight my way to the front line is more exciting.
I should try to start from the middle of the grid.
And when I really need a challenge, from the very end of it.
The three cars ahead of me defend their spots well.
I take third during the fifth lap at a corner, surprising the Mercedes driver from the outside.
It takes me a few laps to catch up with the second one, who’s chasing the Ferrari in the lead, only two seconds ahead.
I wait for my chance, riding on the McLaren’s ass.
It comes when they mess up and get a tire lockup, losing their speed on a corner exit.
I rush by it, quickly congratulated by my race engineer.
Now, on to overtaking the lead.
This one will be harder. The Ferrari driver is known for his immaculate defensive strategy. It’ll take time, attention, and a lot of patience to get ahead. All I need is the right opportunity.
Because I’m now chasing the Ferrari, its driver pushes himself harder. I stay right on his gearbox, and we extend our lead. By the time we start the thirtieth lap, the third position is eight seconds behind me.
And then, it comes. My battery is full, but I know the Ferrari’s isn’t. Using the red car’s slipstream, I stayed right behind during the last straight while its driver emptied his battery. So now, as soon as the next straight comes, I’ll have the energy to swerve to the side and deploy past him.
Which is exactly what I do. Careful not to come into contact with the lead car, I slide left and accelerate. He considers defending but quickly realizes I’m going too fast. I finish overtaking just in time to brake before the next turn.