The cool Antarctic air from the Bass Strait hits my face, and I am relieved it is abrasive in my throat as I draw in a breath to steady myself. I walk slowly back to the pit to calm my breathing, hoping the flush from my face is not noticeable. Strikingly colourful team trailers line up to my left. Their equipment has long been emptied into the pit boxes for the month-long racing stay at this track, so there is currently no one around. I am relieved no eyes will see my flustered state. Stopping, I breathe in a long breath again and put my hand on my hip, keeping a death grip on my coffee.
“Sophia,” Javi calls from behind me. Spinning around, I see him break from his jog.
I give a nod to acknowledge him, not trusting my voice right now.
“Can I take you out tonight?” he asks once he reaches me.
I pause, the shock taking a while for my brain to catch up. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I reply, shaking my head and looking away from his piercing eyes. Those eyes alone could convince me.
“We had a good time that night, it could be interesting to see where it could go. We get along really well, and work hasn’t been affected by that night, either,” he adds.
“Maybe ‘no’ for all of those reasons,” I reply, still not looking at him. This is so hard, I am struggling.
Javi grabs my free hand and leads me in between the trailers, away from any potential people walking to and from the hospitality tent. He stops and turns to face me. “Sophia, I can’t explain it, but I feel something different with you. I can’t escape this feeling. Do you feel it, too?” He puts my hand on his chest over his heart, and I melt.
“I don’t know. I still feel so lost and broken. I don’t want to take you down this path with me. And we shouldn’t with working so closely together. I’m still grieving. And what would people think?” I mutter, trying to convince myself. Our bodies are so close together.
Warm hands cup my face, and I waver as I am forced to look into Javi’s beautiful, brown eyes. Before I try to figure out if I should indulge and kiss him, his lips press against mine. I feel the heat spread through my body as he drops his hands down my neck, to my back, embracing me. My free hand goes to his hair, and I deepen the kiss. Reasons don’t matter in this moment, and I hate myself for standing in my own way. I romanticise about letting myself think I can do this with him, allowing myself to see where this can go, but I remove my hand from his hair, bringing it to his chin when I finally break away from his lips. We are both breathless and I really, really hate that I have to say.
“We can’t. I feel so broken. It’s not fair on you.” I peel myself away from him before he can see my eyes tear up. I don’t dare look back at him, because I might just run straight back into his arms.
16
Javi
May – The Bend, South Australia
The punching bag is getting the full force of my aggravation and hopelessness. It’s been a few weeks since I caught up with Sophia and she rejected me. I’m not pissed that she said no—I’m pissed that I can’t stop thinking about her, and there is nothing I can do about it. Seeing her on track is agony. I love being around her, in the same pit as her. I need to refocus, but I can’t stop thinking about her.
Riley comes out from behind the bag, where he is holding it for me. “Mate, you want to ease up a little? I’m still back here and want to leave in one piece.” He shakes his arms out for effect.
“Sorry, man.” I wave a gloved hand to him, catching my breath. I’ve been relentless with my contact on the bag today.
“What’s gotten up your ass?” Riley asks.
Riley and I met in the New South Wales state-level racing comps, affectionately called ‘Nationals’, when we were teenagers. There is little to no filter between us. We have great camaraderie off the track, and push each other to the limit on the track. We’re both highly competitive and use that to push each other’s buttons, getting the best out of the other.
“Nothing,” I mutter, grabbing a drink to give Riley a breather.
“Yeah, not convinced. Give it up,” Riley pushes, resting his forearm against the strung-up bag.
I am silent, staring him down and ignoring his question. He’s not getting anything out of me.
“It’s about a girl.Boom. You’re never this shitty unless it’s to do with a girl. But it has been a while since you have been like this. Look at you grow! What’s her name?” Riley seems to be having the conversation more with himself than me.
“No girl,” I press, annoyed, not feeling like sharing and caring at the moment. I just want to shut it out.
“Mmhmm.” He eyes me, unconvinced.
“Legit. I am just focusing on the season. I’m trailing behind Cole and I don’t want you and Fleur to catch up too close to me.” I flick my gloved hand towards the bag. “Now let’s get back into it so we can go.”
I can’t admit my focus on the season has been broken. While my performance on track hasn’t wavered, I have been so adamant that my head doesn’t turn no matter what. If anything, my performance has climbed this season. Maybe having Sophia in the pit has helped me there. I mean, in more than her role’s capacity. I push a little harder when I know in the back of my mind, she is watching my performance, watching me closely.
“Geez, who are you hating on?” Fleur’s voice breaks my trance of laying punches into the bag.
Dropping my hands and head backwards, I sigh. “No one!”
Exhausted, Riley pops back out from behind the bag. “A girl.”
