learn to love - pierre gasly

03

M E R E D I T H

-

may 2022

Pierre sits on my couch, it's a weird sight. He arrived maybe an hour ago, his suitcase sitting in the extra bedroom.

"I think I should get to unpacking," he says getting off the couch, I'm glad he did that. There was so much awkward tension,

"Okay, I'll be here when you're done." I reply.

Half an hour later, Pierre exits his room, a book in hand,

"What's that?" I ask him while I scroll on my
phone,

"Something called The Dare Diaries," he starts, "Do you remember?"

"Of course I remember, it's in my house after all."

"Where'd you find it?" he asks, his voice low,

"Rouen, right before my parents sold the house. Back in December,"

"Did you look through it?" he questions while I sigh,

"No, because when I found it we weren't talking. And I couldn't bring myself to read it,"

"We'll now that I'm here, I think we should read it," he says walking towards the couch and I nod my head in agreement. He opens the notebook and our very first entry greets us.

P I E R R E

-

august 2009

"It needs a name," Meredith whines,

"What about The Dare Diaries?" I suggest, she looks at my with a funny expression and I take that as a yes. I pick up the pen and scribble the title onto the notebook.

"Now we need the first dare," Mere bites her lip trying to come up with one,

"How about we start it with a pact instead?" I ponder, "Like a symbol for our friendship,"

"Like what?" she asks me and I smirk, "Pierre! I don't like that smile on your face,"

I laugh softly, "It's crazy,"

"I like crazy," her eyes sparkle,

"Fine," I take a deep breath, "By the time we're 25, and still single, we marry each other,"

She turns a pale white and I begin to think she stopped breathing,

"25 is too soon, I vote we wait until 30," Mere finally speaks,

"Fine 30, but I don't need that much time to learn to love you." and with those simple words her cheeks turn a bright red. I know we're young, but there's not lies in the words I said. Loving her would be as easy as walking.

P I E R R E

-

may 2022

Meredith shifts uncomfortably on the couch,

"Well only four years left," I say trying to lift some of the tension of that memory,

"We'll you're a year older then me," Mere jokes, "So technically five years,"

"Hm, I disagree, I suggested the pact, meaning it's valid when I turn the great age of 30." I say triumphantly, knowing she can't fight my argument,

"We made that pact when we were 13," she starts and my heart sinks with what she says next, "It's barely valid,"

"You don't want to marry me?" I ask, wounded. But I joke around by placing a hand to my heart,

She laughs the same laugh, the one from when we were 13, the one from age 6.

"I did," her tone of voice becomes more serious, "I wanted to, back then,"

"So did I," I lean back into the couch, throwing my head back. She stares at me before copying my exact movements.

"What ever happened to us?" she questions looking at the ceiling,

"Formula one?" I suggest,

"Sometimes I wish you never raced," she says, that comment bothers me,

"Sometimes I wish you'd travelled with me," I try to stay calm, "The option was always there,"

"Traveling all the time isn't a life,"

"Yes it is," I sit back up, "It's my life,"

She sits back up too, "That's not what I meant,"

"You used to support me, every race, you were there. What happened? Why'd you stop?" I needed answers now,

"Because I loved you, Pierre," she starts, "And— and it was difficult, because all day every day you were racing. Doing things that could've killed you. That day I had enough, it was either me or the racing. But that was barely a choice, because I knew what you'd choose."

The use of "love" in the past tense pains me. Shouldn't she still love me? Can love, even if it's platonic, fade after all those years of loving?

"Of course I'd choose racing," I say,

"I knew that, and I was fine with it," she looks at me, and I swear I can see back in time. How much she cried the first time I crashed, how she always wanted to hang out, but I couldn't because I was practicing. In those moments I never thought about how my racing could affect her negatively.

"I'm sorry," I grab her hand,

"I'm sorry too." She tightens her grip.