The drive home. Neither of them speaks. But both of them are thinking the same thing: Ceci Rivers is a liability.
9. “Talk” – Hozier
The silence on that drive home is thick with everything unsaid.
10. “Heat Lightning” – Mitski
Clarke can’t sleep, but he can dream … Ceci and that fucking catsuit.
11. “Don’t You” – Taylor Swift
The aftermath. Maybe they’re enemies. Maybe they’re not. Either way, it’s no longer simple. But then, it never was.
Chapter Seventeen
Clarke and Ceci
ROUND 1: RACE 1: AUSTIN, TEXAS
Clarke
So far, so good, thought Clarke, as he took that first tight corner so close he felt like not even a feather would fit between the side of his car and the guardrail.
Race Engineer: Excellent, Clarke. Only seven laps to go. Everything’s holding up; you won’t have to pit again. You can ride this one out.
Clarke: Copy.
He’d started at seventh position, and now was at third. There was still time to overtake and jump into first or second, but at the very worst if he just held his position, he’d be up on the podium.
He’d had some bad luck during qualifying. He’d been pissed when he heard they wouldn’t be holding a third qualifying session due to the rain and conditions on the track. Officials considered it too dangerous. He was certain he could have improved his time and started the race in a much better position. The only thing good about them cancelling the Q3 was that Anker fared far worse than he had. He’d started in thirteenth position.
But if ever there was a track that was made for overtaking, it was this one. Knowing Anker and how aggressive he was, Clarke doubted he was still sitting at lucky #13.
Besides, your focus is not on him. Or his team principal.
Ceci
Ceci stood, tapping her foot behind Corey, the race engineer.
Something felt different.
Her heart was racing the way it did when she’d been the one behind the wheel, putting her foot on the gas and feeling the full throttle of that powerful engine thrusting her forward.
She’d always been competitive. Her drive to win was intense. But once she was no longer racing Formula 3, while her desire to win was potent, it was still just a desire. When she’d been in the driver’s cockpit, it was more than that. She needed to win. And now, in this race, even though she wasn’t behind the wheel, she felt that need again.
Anker was in seventh and Mendelsohn, his teammate, in tenth. The cancellation of that third qualifying session had really screwed them. That being said, this track with all its opportunities to overtake a car was tailor-made for an aggressive driver. And no driver was more aggressive than Ian Anker. He’d already moved up six positions. There was enough time left. It was still possible for him to snag one of the top three spots. She’d hate for him to be denied that, given expectations were so high this season after he won the trophy last year. They needed a good start to the season.
Race Engineer: Brilliant driving, Ian. Absolutely brilliant. Perez is just up ahead, and you know what else.
Turn twelve.
Turn twelve was a prime spot to overtake a car, but it was also a sharp left-handed turn that required a driver to brake when he was moving at more than two hundred miles per hour.
Anker: I can beat him.
Race Engineer: Okay, but you gotta tap the brakes sooner this time. We don’t want to see what happened last season.
Last season he’d crashed at turn twelve. With none other than Leo Clarke.
