Nope, nothing to go by here. No idea what this interaction is about that I have just witnessed. I internally shrug and look back at the crew working on the bike.
Rayna comes up behind me, catching me off guard. “Hey Javi.”
“Geeeez, Rayna. You scared the shit out of me. I was too engrossed watching the crew work.”Half lie.
“Dave said they will be a bit longer than expected. Did you want me to arrange for some food to be dropped off for lunch?”
“Nah, I might have a walk around out the back, hit the tent for some lunch. Shoot me a text when we’re good to go.” Might as well stretch my legs and do something.
“Sounds good,” she says and takes off.
I remove my suit, throw on some sweats and a tee, and head to the back of the pits towards the hospitality tent. Two of Riley’s crew head out of the tent as I stand to the side for them to exit. We exchange somehellosand head nods before I step in and head straight to the food spread. I grab a few lunch options: sandwich, salad, and fruit. I turn around and take in who else is sitting here. Other teams’ crews are chatting and eating across most of the tables, very few remaining vacant. Blonde hair in a far corner catches my eye. Sophia is sitting on her own, laptop open, her eyes studying intensely, still not looking like herself. Sad, distant, hollow. My feet take me towards her, and I am at her table when she looks up.
“Heya,” I open.
“Hello,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. It doesn’t look like she is put off by the interruption, still being polite, but because her eyes hold sadness.
“Can I join you?” I ask. “Bit busy in here today.”
“Sure,” she replies, motioning to the empty seat in front of her.
“Thanks.” Taking the seat, I notice she hasn’t gotten any food in front of her. “Always working, hey?”
“Nah, just blankly staring at the screen,” she replies with a small shrug. We are silent for a few beats.
“Still working through the breakup?” I ask, picking up some food.
She winces and takes a long moment to look at me, worry spanning across her face. She lets out a long breath. “If only it was just that.” She pauses, considering. “My mum passed away the last day of testing.”
Wow, did I put my foot in it. So not the same level as a breakup.Good one, dickhead.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I offer to her glassy eyes and weak nod. “Do you want some of my food?” I point down at my tray.
She lightly laughs, and it’s the first time in the past month I have seen a genuine smile cross her face. “Sure, throw over the apple.”
Smiling and feeling happy I got a grin out of her, I pass over the apple.
“So, you are really staring at nothing on your screen?” I enquire as I continue eating.
“No. Dave’s wife, Nikki, bought me an eBook on grief.” She turns her laptop around so I can see her screen. The file is namedGrief Me Do, and looks like it’s trying to humorously tackle the tough topic of death and grief with joke bubbles and cartoon characters. Clearly missing the mark with Sophia. “It’s just not doing it for me, unfortunately. But I feel like I have to read it and give it a go.”
“There’s nothing good in it? Not even one line?” I question.
“Not for me. But I mean, I am not really with it. That’s why I’ve been staring blankly at the screen so much. Nothing is really making sense or sinking in. I must have read the same page for hours. Guess I am just overwhelmed with everything. Being back here, I feel like I have to hide. I don’t want anyone asking about my mum or Perry,” she says quietly.
“I’m sorry again. Did you want to not talk about it at all? Change the topic completely?” What the hell do I know about a parent dying? Both of mine are still alive. I can’t even imagine what she is going through.
“I’m okay, thanks. I mean, I will get to being okay. The apple helped,” she jokes with a smile. Looky here, a slither of the old Sophia poking through. Light-hearted sarcasm and her warm smile.
My phone buzzes, Rayna’s message causing it to vibrate on the table.
“Bike is ready,” I offer, holding up my phone.
“Brilliant. I’ll head over with you,” Sophia adds softly. She folds up her laptop and takes her apple core to the bin while I put my empty tray away.
We walk over to the pits together and cover some idle chit chat. Plans for the weekend, adjustments for the bike—nothing in depth. But before we get too close to the pit, I mention, “If there is anything I can help with, please let me know. Even if you want to sit with someone at the bar or at dinner and not talk. What are teammates for?”
“Thanks, Javi. I appreciate it,” she responds, touching my forearm, sending a spark up my arm.
