No Regrets, Only Memories

The Nights

Maeve

I couldn't help the sense of impending dread that sat in my stomach when Saturday night rolled around. My words had obviously gotten to Daniel. Not only had he not said a word to me the entire weekend, nor looked in my direction, but he was driving in a way that I knew was pissed off. He had been short with Charlotte over press commitments pulling him away from training. He had even put in extra workouts, with me catching him coming out of the gym early in the morning every day as I was walking in. Christian noticed it too, he had commented on it to me while I was standing in the garage going over my track notes on Saturday night. His comment had been to watch out and there would be no favorites tomorrow. It would be our first race to actually go against each other.

The idea was dangerous, as I was used to there having to be team orders to prevent catastrophic events for a team. Daniel was on his own though, as I had told him over text. I would get a one week break from anything that he could dish at me after this race though. I fully intended on playing every card I had in my hand to make sure that Daniel did not place in front of me. I would block every "masterclass of late breaking" he would try and give me as he called them and I sure as hell wasn't going to let overtakes come easily for him.

Yet, arriving back at my hotel room that night, my anger dissipated over some pasta and a Will Farell movie. I was mad at Daniel for his actions, mostly not speaking to me or letting me explain something instead of just talking to me. He had, quite literally, backed me into a wall in a fit of rage. He had no right to do that. Daniel had been my friend long enough though that I knew his anger was most likely justified if he was showing it. An elbow through a door every now and then was just him blowing off some steam and that was still rare. I realized that I had been just as guilty in this issue as he had been, by perpetuating some kind of fight that we had no business starting as coworkers, let alone the best friends we claimed to be.

No, I had to make it right or else we would face consequences. So when we arrived at the track in separate cars on Sunday morning, I immediately tried to grab him before we walked into the paddock.

"Can I talk to you?" My hand had reached out to his shoulder to stop him from walking away from the parking area.

He turned to me, dressed in ripped jean shorts, his team polo, and team issued Puma shoes.

"You said you didn't want to talk. That was very clear in your text..." He pushed the sunglasses that had slid down his aquiline nose back into place to block out the harsh rays that were bearing down on us.

"Well I'm trying now, Daniel. We can't keep doing this." He gave a dry laugh, an icy smile making its way onto his face as he turned his head to look at the paddock entrance to my right.

"You're right. So don't fucking talk to me and let's race. Like you said, I'm on my own." His lips set in a tight line as his arms went out straight perpendicular to his side as if to say 'what about it?' before he started walking backwards towards the gate.

"You're a coward!" I yelled after him, my lips curling up into a near snarl as he just turned to finally cross through the gate where Michael stood on the other side waiting for him. Michael's face held as much disdain as mine did, I could see it from here. Clearly, I wasn't the only one upset by his behavior

His words brought back every piece of rage I had felt over the last two weeks. He had begun this ridiculous fight with me over a lack of not listening. That alone was a massive pet peeve of mine, but coming from him it made my blood boil even more. everything you had done was for him. He was beyond my best friend, not that he knew that, but for years he had been by my side, encouraging me to do something that I loved. Now it was the things that separated us. My rage was slowly redirecting towards my own job, or at least partially as it was evident that Daniel was being stubborn like normal.