“Matt’s behind?”Noah says.
“You know what to do,” says his race engineer.
The radio crackles again, and I feel a tug of guilt.But Matt was always going to be the first driver, and if there was a chance to get him into the middle of the field ahead of Noah, we had to take it.
“You got it,” Noah says, utterly compliant.The perfect teammate.
We watch as Noah pulls to the outside of the lane, and all Matt needs to do is slip through and he’ll have gained three places.
Except he doesn’t.
Something happens as he hits the throttle careering into that sixth turn.Matt suddenly slows, losing his line and coming off the track again.The team runs their checks on the car data.
“Suspension’s fine.”
“Tires are good.”
“He looks stressed again,” someone says, pointing to his heart rate.
“Only time it should be peaking like that is overtaking Lewis Hamilton,” says another.
There is something going on.
Noah and Matt drive almost side by side for three bends.
“Matt, push,” says Noah’s race engineer.“You’ve got the spot.You’re slowing both of you.”
The radio crackles.“Let the kid drive,” Matt says.
And then to our astonishment, we watch him drop back, forcing Noah to pull in forward, ahead of him.
“Matt, strategy was clear,” I say over the radio.
“Oh, hi, Chloe.”
I swear, loudly, off-mic and the race engineer puts a hand on mine to calm me.
“He’s dropped another place,” says someone.“Back at eighteenth out of twenty.”
“He doesn’t listen to you,” the strategist says, turning to glare at me as though it’s not completely clear.
“He’s finished,” I mutter to myself, banging my forehead on the screen in front of me.“I’m finished.We’re finished.”
I walk through the emptying lot to wait for my ride back to the hotel, hiding twice behind parked trucks to evade the press.Jesus Christ, they never give up.
I slink round the back of the Rossini trailer and finally find a spot to wait.Then I get an email notification on my phone and open a long rant from Barry.
To:CHLOE
From:BARRY
Subject:You & Matt at the garage tomorrow morning, 10:00am.What the hell is going on?FYI I have a sponsor meeting with a company that builds water slides.Unsure about the powder pink of their logo.
Message:[blank]
I’m blithely wondering if I should encourage Barry to use a phone messaging service when I spot Rossini team principal Matteo Borelli standing across the lot with two of his team.Our eyes meet, and he stops mid-conversation, striding over to me, a pitying look on his face.
“Hi, Mr.Borelli,” I say, a small thrill coursing through me as he approaches.Despite it all, despite this legend of F1holding the same position as me, I still feel like this small racing superfan who is lucky to be on the lot.“Congratulations on the podium.”
