"Growing up having racing at the centre of your family, isn't always as exciting as people think. My father lived and breathed racing, and almost died because of it.
I have always been in my brother's shadow, always known for being Romero's little...
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Lucia
Sick.
Violently sick.
All the way in through the car ride.
Any minute now, I was going to be sick.
I think even Charles had noticed, but I really wasn't in the mood to have a therapy session with him about being nervous about the event.
Instead, I just stared out the window.
Lost in my own thoughts, I hadn't noticed that Charles had placed his hand on my knee to top it from jumping up and down.
"Why are you so nervous?"
He paused, waiting for my response, and when he didn't get one, he continued.
"Haven't you gone to lots of these events before? If anything, I should be the one who is nervous."
Still, I did answer.
"Wow, the silent treatment. Real mature Lucia."
I couldn't help but bite back.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you from over here, stuck in Romero's shadow; plus my father's got a real tight grip on me, ya know."
He clenched his jaw so tightly, I thought it was going to pop. He was not expecting me to say that.
"Lucia. I- I- I didn't mean any of that. I was saying..."
"What? You were just saying the truth?"
I interrupted him.
"No. I was saying those things because fuck."
He lifted his hand, the one that was resting on my knee and ran it through his hair. I felt cold when he removed his hand and I'm struggling to know why.
"I was upset and angry."
He blurted out, like he was trying to hold it back.
My whole body turned to him, from hearing this revelation.
"Why were you even upset?"
I whispered, looking right up at his green eyes. I could see him fighting against himself. Like he didn't want to say what he was really thinking. Like he was scared.
