“No. Perry.” She rolls her eyes. “Didn’t appreciate the tit for tat text rejection.”
“Do I need to go pay him a visit?” I ask. While I said it in a playful way, I am dead serious.
She looks at me like she noticed something new. “Nah. He isn’t worth it. I don’t want you to break your hand on his face and not be able to ride.”
“Pfft, people only break hands because they don’t punch properly, and I said nothing of the sort. I was just going to pay him apolite visit.” I smile sweetly at her.
She takes a long sip of her beer, taking me in. A sparkle in her eye.
“I am surprised Nikki hasn’t been blowing up my phone or made her way here to sit at a table to keep an eye on us.” She looks around the restaurant. No Nikki. “I’ll meet up with her tomorrow. Oh! So, Nikki already knew about us. Last time we were out with her and Dave, she figured it out.”
“That explains why she wasn’t so surprised when I told her,” I add. “Oh, and Riley knows.”
“Right. Anyone else?” she teases.
“My parents, but they and Riley helped get me to realise I should tell you how I feel. But no one else.” Feels like the audience numbers escalated a little.
“Glad you had a support team to talk some sense into you.” She smirks.
35
Sophia
Sunday’s race starts, and halfway through, Javi, Riley, and Cole are all battling for first when Cole’s tyres give out halfway through a corner and he hits the tarmac, taking Riley and Javi with him. Javi is hit the hardest and he flips over the three bikes and two riders, flying into the air. It’s a nasty crash and everyone in the pit box winces, then worries. Some of the team make their way to the track to collect Javi and his bike. The marshals and medics on track are around him.
Shit. Please, be okay.
The race is stopped by a red flag as Javi hasn’t gotten up yet. All we have is the live feed from the monitor. We hear all the other riders entering the pits so the on-site ambulance can pick up Javi.
My heart is in my throat. I am filled with dread. Tears are threatening to spill over from the uncertainty. The monitor shows him on a stretcher and being loaded into the back of the ambulance, but it’s zoomed out so it’s not giving anything helpful to ease our minds. Looking over at Micah, she locks eyes with me. “I’ll head to the medical centre and let you know how he is.” She rushes out the pit box.
We all share worried glances amongst ourselves and wait for news from Micah. The bike is returned to the box and Dave and some of the mechanics start looking over it, assessing the damage. Something to distract them. I am staring at my phone, waiting for a message. My phone starts blowing up with notifications from people watching the live feed and checking on him. I keep watching the notifications, waiting for Micah’s name.
What felt like three hours pass, but was only ten minutes, Micah finally calls me. Even though I was staring at the phone and waiting for her name to appear, it still startled me.
“Hello? How is he?” I blurt out.
“He’s okay,” she answers. I turn to the team and give them a thumbs up, relaying the news.
They all exhale collectively and hug each other.
“He was unconscious, but awake once he got to the medical centre. He might have a concussion.” She continues, “Are you able to come to the medical centre?”
“Absolutely. I’m on my way,” I say and hang up.
I look at the team and explain, “He was unconscious, so they had to stretcher him and take him to the medical centre for checks, but he is awake. Micah’s asked me to go to the medical centre. I’ll send any updates to Dave or Rayna if needed, but he is okay. That’s all that counts.” The team nods and exchanges relieved looks amongst themselves again.
I share a look with Dave, and he nods at me with knowing, caring eyes.
I go to the back of the pit, jump on one of our track bikes, and make my way to the medical centre behind all the manufacture trailers and a number of motorhomes.
Time still feels like it is taking forever. The five-minute ride to the medical centre feels never ending as I dodge and weave through people, walking and dawdling around.
I reach the medical centre, and Micah is waiting outside for me. I park the bike and almost run to her. “Hey, he still all good?”
“Yeah, he is awake, and they are just doing some tests to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”
I am relieved, but ask, “Why did you want me here?”
