I dropped to my knees, arms wide open, my racing suit crinkling as I stretched out to catch her. I could see her tiny fists clenching in excitement as she made a beeline straight for me. My heart swelled, an overwhelming wave of affection washing over me. Nothing prepared me for this—the real, tangible joy of her presence here in the paddock. Gianna DeLuca was a whirlwind of a kid. After summers with her over the last few years, she had decidedly picked me as her best friend. She used to scream “OW OW” before she could even make out my name, demanding my attention. I loved it, though. Feeling so important to someone was something I wasn’t used to. On the track, people saw me as a champion, but to Gia, I was just Alex. She didn’t care about wins or titles, she was just a kid who thought race car driving was super cool. That simple, pure love made me want to be better, to be someone she could look up to, to be good.
During the season, I would make time to FaceTime Lucia after races, just to see the little gremlin’s smile. Matteo and I would fly back occasionally when we were a short flight away. For her first birthday, we snuck away and flew to the DeLuca’s home. We were both fined excessively for missing some media days. We stuffed the private jet with presents, I bought her a stuffed bunny rabbit that year, which she now keeps with her always. The two days we snuck away were worth every penny of the fines. We did the exact same thing for her second birthday. She had the DeLuca spunk, the sassy attitude and the same blonde hair as her mother. It dawned on me that for the next few months at least, Gianna would actually be here for races. She talked endlessly about wanting to be a race car driver like her “Ow Wex” and Zio. It made Lucia roll her eyes and Matteo beam with pride.
“Alex!” she cried, throwing herself into my arms. I caught her easily, her small body pressing against my chest. She clung to me, giggling as if she’d just conquered the world. I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound coming out as a genuine, deep chuckle. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little whirlwind,” I said, hugging her tightly. “Look at you!”
“Hi, best friend.” She giggled in my ear, squeezing her little arms around my neck. My heart squeezed.
Over Gia’s shoulder, I saw Lucia approaching. She was dressed in an oversized Belen Racing jacket that practically swallowed her, but in Lucia fashion, she paired thigh-high, heeled boots with it, a purse slung over her shoulder, and just under the sleeve of her sweatshirt were colorful beaded bracelets, the ones Gia loved to make. God, she was a vision. Her long blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and her smile was soft, warm, like a cozy blanket on a chilly day. She watched us with a mixture of amusement and affection washing over her features, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she took in the sight of Gia nestled in my arms. I waved at her, still holding Gia, who seemed to have no intention of letting go anytime soon.
“Hey, Luce!” I called out. I tried to keep my voice easy and casual, but seeing herhere. In my team’s sweatshirt.
Fuck.
Something had changed over this last summer break with Lucia. Like something clicked in my brain, sorting her asLucia,this strong and amazing woman and not just my best friend’s sister. She was bold and brave, with this exceedingly bright energy. She had become a constant presence in my thoughts.
“This feels surreal, having you guys on the circuit. I think G is going to be my good luck charm, huh?” I leaned down and tickled Gia, who giggled in turn. Gia was wearing a miniature version of the same jacket, Belen pink and blue colors splashed onto the dark fabric.
“Love the sweatshirt, G,” I said to Gia, who beamed up at me.
“We made bracelets!” she announced, pushing up a sleeve clumsily and showing off her pink and blue bracelet. She turned her wrist, revealing two white beads and two numbers.
One and four.
Fourteen.
As inmyracing numberfourteen. My heart picked up speed as I looked up to Lucia, standing there with the corners of her mouth ticked up. She had her arms crossed, but she casually pushed one sleeve up, revealing a matching bracelet, the same pink and blue with two white beads.
They were both wearing my number.
“She insisted we wear your number today, to go with the jackets. We have Matteo’s, too, in red, of course.”
“Of course,” I replied, the smirk growing.
Lucia laughed, a sound like tinkling chimes. “She’s been so excited. I think she’s convinced you’re a superhero.”
“Well, I’ll take that.” I grinned, finally setting Gia down but keeping a hand resting gently on her back. “But Matteo’s gonna be pissed when he finds out you’re not wearing Moretti gear on day one.”
Lucia rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t falter. I laughed again, this time more softly. “But don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll find a way to forgive me once he sees how happy she is.”
I could see Lucia’s relief, the way her shoulders relaxed as she watched Gia interact with me. She wore her emotions right out in the open, and had never been good at hiding them away. It was like this small slice of normalcy, and joy was something she’d been looking forward to. I hoped being out at the track would help her find pockets of joy again. It was thrilling to be here, you couldn’t help the buzzing and exhilaration of it all get to you.
For a few minutes, it was just us: Gia, who was now chattering excitedly about all the things she’d seen, Lucia, who seemed to be soaking in the moment, and me, enjoying the rare opportunity to connect with the people I cared about in my space, in my world.
Life on the circuit could be a whirlwind of adrenaline and intensity. The summers had been a needed break, calming and so removed from high-paced life. As I watched Lucia and Gia together, it struck me just how important it was to hold onto these simple, genuine connections, no matter how fast the world might spin around us.
“Excuse me, why am I seeingmyfamily in the enemy’s colors?” Matteo’s booming voice broke through the Belen garage. He was dressed and ready for practice, as I was. His red racing suit looked so out of place in the Belen’s trademarked electric blue and pink.
“Zio!” Gia screamed, turning and running to Matteo. His faked annoyance quickly dropped, replaced with a wide smile.
“Principessa!” Matteo said, bending down and holding out his arms for Gia. She quickly threw herself at him, a blur of blonde curls andmyracing colors.
“What is this?” Matteo asked, pointing at her sweatshirt.
“Ow Wex,” she said, a stern look on her little features. I couldn’t keep the smirk from my face when Matteo’s eyes met mine. He rolled his eyes.
“That’s fine on practice days, but race day?” He focused back on Gianna. “What colors do we wear on race days?”
“Red!” she cheered. He beamed and shot me a glance as if to say,I win.
