“Bullshit,” Barry says, laughing.
“You know what’s bullshit?This.” Matt nods in the direction of the vehicles, the pit crew, the entire garage, in fact.While I agree everything needs work,once again, I’m irritated Matt is the one pointing it out.
I glance at the clock for what feels like the hundredth time.On the one hand, this argument needs to play out, and part of me is happy Matt is saying all the things I’d like to say to Barry.On the other hand, we only have one hour and forty-five minutes until the timer begins for the first round of qualifying and still no idea if Matt can even fit in that fucking car.
“Rossini were done with you.You were less popular than a shit in a kid’s ball pit,” Barry says.
“And yetyoubought the shit,” Matt points out, in a murky mix of gotcha and self-own, which he grimaces at when he realizes.
“Nobody here isshit,” I try to interject.
“What else are you going to do, Matt?”Barry presses.
“NASCAR,” Matt replies evenly.
“Gentlemen,” I try, a little louder.“There’s no need to bring NASCAR into this.”
One hour and forty minutes to go.
“You won’t leave,” Barry says.Then he taps the silver tape on Matt’s chest with a chubby pink finger.“Because there’s still some bite in the old dog.”
I watch as Matt’s face ever so slightly softens, and I grab my moment.
“Okay, everyone.Can I have your attention?”I call out, my voice tight and high.One mechanic turns his head briefly, but no one else responds.
I feel Matt’s eyes on me.
“You’ll need to be louder than that, Bug,” he mutters.
I ignore him, feeling the heat in my cheeks.
“Hello, everyone!Attention, please!”My voice lances through the garage, and everyone stops, the noise of banging and drilling and chatter falling completely silent.Out of the corner of my eye, I even see Matt flinch.
“Right, listen up,” I say, tapping my watch.“We need to move.Guys, can you do the seat checks with Matt?We don’t know how he fits the car yet.Do the best you can, and let’s talk about getting a clay molding done before the next race in Austin.Noah, since this is his first time inside the AR21, can you sit with him and talk through the feel, give him any tips?Whatever you can do.I need to see the results from testing.”To my delight and surprise, the crew springs into action, and I feel awash with relief.
“Barry.I’m sorry, but please.You need to go,” I say, swinging around to face him, trying to stand a little taller in my sensible black loafers.“We have a lot to prepare.”
Just as he’s about to argue, he stops himself, reaching down to pat one of his little greyhounds.Sensing that he might convince himself into a fight, I add, “I’m sure Piero Rossini isn’t debasing himself down in the pits with these grease monkeys.”
Barry hesitates but seems to be pleased with the excuse I’m handing him.“Fine.I’ll leave you experts to it,” he says, skulking off through the back door with a final thumbs-up for good luck.
I spin back around, and just as I’m about to head off to speak to the strategists, Matt gently grabs my arm.“Chloe,” he says, tugging me backward toward the driver room, but Iresist, pulling my arm back from his grasp like it’s made of hot iron.
“What is it?”
“You don’t want to talk about this clusterfuck first?”he says, looking puzzled by my reaction.He motions toward the back, but I stay firm.“Come on, Bug—sorry, Chloe.”
“If it’s about our qualifying strategy today, then yes.”
Matt pulls back now, his face suddenly impassive.Maybe even with a hint of anger.One of the young strategists shoves a printout in my hand and I glance down, flicking through the plans.“Soft tires?”I shout after him.
“Yup,” the strategist says, nodding toward the tires, which are wrapped in blankets.
“But the race director just declared the track wet,” I say, looking outside at the sky, suddenly completely overwhelmed by such a small thing.“Are we sure?Forecast is patchy, I don’t want to get stuck out there on slicks.”
“We think it’s going to dry up...anyway, we can hold him back and wait,” he says as if I’m stupid, nodding at the paperwork in my hands.
“I think he should take the full session.It’s his first race,” I say uneasily.I’m off-kilter.Second-guessing myself—and my team, who I feel are ready to pounce the moment I make an error.Fuck this nightmare, I need to focus.
