LOVE OR RIDE | LESTAPPEN

chapter six - sleeping boy

Max

I pull up at the McDrive and open my window, ignoring the phones of a lot of people pointed in our direction. I still can't get used to the fact that at every turn someone is secretly taking pictures of me, or rather trying to, because after so many years I know when someone is trying to pretend not to take pictures. I'm also not a fan of fast food, because of formula one drivers we have to eat healthy but Leclerc today doesn't give a damn and told me to come here.

"What do you want?" I ask, glancing in his direction.

He leans toward me, looking at the display of suggestions. He's not here often either, so he doesn't know what's currently on sale. He has fallen asleep once again, and I get the feeling that this car is not a sports car, but a sleeper, because it's abnormal that he sleeps every time he sits in it, and he has sat up two and fallen asleep twice. His hair is disheveled, the seat is reflected on his right cheek and his eyes are squinted, still sleepy.

I didn't think I'd ever pay attention to the appearance of Leclerc, who had just gotten up. Life takes you by surprise.

"Large fries, a large Coke and twenty nuggets with four cream sauces." he says loudly for the employee to hear him.

I raise a puzzled eyebrow, looking at him like he's crazy, which he notices and indignantly moves away, looking in my direction.

"I invite you to the next window." I hear the man's voice. So I drive closer, stopping behind a car whose owner is just paying for his food.

"Twenty? Do you want to feed the army?" I ask suddenly.

"Mine stomach." He crosses his arms over his chest. "You know, that's what I was thinking..."

"Did it hurt?"

He presses his lips into a thin line and turns his back to me. I parry amusedly, taking my card out of my wallet and applying it to the terminal as I pull up to the window. The man nods and hands me a bag and a drink. I thank him quickly, placing the food in the Ferrari driver's lap, and place the drink on the coaster.

I pull out onto the main street, and the boy quickly turns in my direction, looking even more indignant than he did a moment ago.

"If you like me so much that you burn a hole in my head, take a picture and you can look at me even in bed." I say calmly, smiling with satisfaction.

"Fuck you, Verstappen." he points his middle finger in my direction. "I'll transfer you the money for that food later." he adds a little quieter. 

"You didn't meet a poor person, you don't have to." I overtake the two cars, and the brunet takes the fries out of the bag, putting three each in his mouth.

"So is this the stage of familiarity that you're making for a sponsor?" he asks with a full mouth. I wince when I see this and shrug my shoulders.

"As long as you don't call me your father, I can go for it." I say seriously. I see out of the corner of my eye how he stops his hand with the French fries right in front of his open mouth and blinks a few times, looking at my face. Finally, I can't stand it and he laughs, at which he rolls his eyes and sighs in relief, going back to eating. "What were you thinking about?" I return to the earlier topic.

"Hm? Oh, nothing important." He waves his hand in the air, almost throwing the fries at the dashboard.

"If you mess up, I swear you'll clean up this garbage with your teeth and polish the paint with your tongue." I say threateningly.

"I don't get into your fetishes, but they're a little weird." He smiles slyly, but he's not about to take any chances as he starts eating over the bag so that whatever falls out falls into it. "I still don't like you." he adds, getting down to eating the nuggets.