As Travis and I walk back through the paddock, a bright voice calls, “Jacob!”
My muscles tense up as I look around, half-expecting to see another one of my father’s awful colleagues. Instead, I find a smiling girl with long red hair.
“Anne!” I say. “Long time.”
“The longest,” she says, hugging me warmly. I’ve known Anne for years. Her older brother, Oliver, raced with me in Formula 2. “It’s great to see you,” she says.
“You, too. How’ve you been?”
“Good, really good. Oh, sorry—this is my boyfriend, Ben.” She touches the arm of the guy standing with her, a tall, athletic-looking guy with a friendly smile.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, shaking my hand.
“You, too,” I reply. “This is my—this is Travis. Travis Keeping, I mean.”
Smiling politely, Travis shakes Ben and Anne’s hands.
“We actually met once, a couple of years ago,” Anne tells him. “It was at that party Jacob threw in his hotel room in Austria.”
“Oh, right,” Travis says. “I remember that.” He glances sideways at me, his eyes crinkling at the edges. That party was the first night he and I ever spent together. “Your brother was there, too, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, Oliver.”
“Is he here this weekend?” I ask.
“No, he’s back home. Probably green with envy, watching you race.” She smiles at my Crosswire suit. “We came with friends of ours.” She gestures to two guys standing nearby, taking pictures of one of the old F1 cars Torrent Racing has out on display. One of them is a really tall, handsome guy who makes me think of a Californian surfer, the other is a bit shorter, with dark hair and pale skin. “They’re both volleyball players, like Ben,” Anne says.
“We all play in the Italian league,” Ben adds.
“That’s cool,” I say. “I know absolutely nothing about volleyball.”
Ben laughs. “You probably know more about it than I do about racing. We went to the races in Silverstone and Zandvoort over the summer, but I guarantee Anne will still have to explain everything to us during qualifying.”
“You guys should watch from the Crosswire garage,” Travis suggests.
“Absolutely,” I agree. Then I add, under my breath, “Am I allowed to do that?”
Travis shrugs. “Why not?”
“That’d be so fun!” Anne says. “I mean, if you’re sure it’s okay.”
“I can definitely ask,” I say. “We’re heading there now, if you want to come with us.”
“I’ll go get the guys,” Ben says. “I apologize in advance for Trevor. He’s definitely going to hit on one or both of you.”
Anne laughs and says, “Jonathan will keep him in check,” while I try to stop myself staring after Ben like an idiot.
I glance at Travis, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed anything unusual. He doesn’t even blink when Ben returns with Jonathan and Trevor, who are very clearly a couple. They aren’t holding hands or anything, but they smile at each other every ten seconds, and every other story Trevor tells us starts with “we.” “We flew in yesterday” and “We’re staying at that cool hotel with the boat on top of it” and “We live an hour outside of Florence, in Tuscany.”
“I’d love to go to Tuscany,” Travis says, as we walk through the paddock.
“Same,” I agree. “I’ve been to Florence a couple of times, but I never made it out of the city.”
“You should come stay with us,” Trevor says. He has an easy sort of confidence that reminds me of Matty. “Jonathan’s done the guest bedroom up all fancy.”
“You can’t invite people you just met to stay at your house, Trevor,” Ben says.
“Why not?”
