LOVE OR RIDE | LESTAPPEN

chapter thirteen - play with fire

Max

I snuggle tighter to the person below me when I hear the alarm clock ringing for the seventh time. I don't want to get up, I'm fine here. However, when I realize who is lying under me, it is like a bucket of cold water. I move away violently, causing me to fail to catch my balance and fall to the floor, moaning in pain. I slept cuddled up to Charles. I must have put my arm across his body in my sleep, because when I fell asleep I only had my head on his chest, as if that alone was normal for colleagues. Jesus...

I look at my phone's display and almost have a heart attack when I see the time, lots of missed calls from Christian, my father, Checo and Daniel. Damn. Without even thinking about waking up Leclerc, I quickly get dressed in my Red Bull clothes, and just as I'm about to leave, I realize Charles is still asleep, and also has a race. I'm an idiot.

"Charles." I approach him, but he turns his back to me, hugging the quilt, and mumbles something in his sleep. "Charles!" I shout, shaking his shoulder.

Suddenly he breaks off to sit up, terrified, looking around. After a moment, he realizes where he is and who is waking him up. He wrinkles his eyebrows, looking at me, as I manage to get dressed.

"What's going on?" he mumbles sleepily, rubbing his face with his hands.

"We're running late. Take my keys and give them back to me after the race." I say quickly and, without waiting for his answer, run out of the house.

I give up on the elevator, knowing that it will be faster to run down the stairs. I walk up to the reception desk and take keys to my car. I walk to the parking lot, and with that I almost get run over by someone when I run out in front of his hood, but I don't much care now. I get in my car and, driving to the track, I break more laws than I have in my entire life. I can't be late for the race. Charles and I already miss the parade, and maybe that's a good thing, because besides talking to drivers, I don't like it. We stand or sit like morons.

I park the car and run into the garage, ignoring the cameras pointed in my direction. I apologize to everyone one by one, going to the driver's room to change. I don't remember half of what I'm doing, and before I know it, I'm already sitting in the car, waiting for the red lights to go out and the race to begin.

Everything goes according to plan. I manage to get a good start, so I maintain P1. After a dozen or so laps, where I've made a big gap from my teammate, I go down to the box, where everyone is also doing well, and I continue out onto the track with a sizable lead. Suddenly, when I'm halfway through the lap, a red flag appears.

"Red flag, Max." I hear a voice on the radio.

"Why?" I ask concerned. On the track everyone is a rival, but they are human beings. It's normal for me to be worried, because this sport is cruel and not one person has already lost their life because of them. I hope it's nothing serious and everything will be fine.

"The car in flames."

And those were the words I didn't want to hear. Fire is the worst thing that can happen during an accident. I bite the inside of my cheek, not forgetting that I'm still driving, so as not to make a second accident out of my stupidity.

"Whose?" I ask, although I don't want to know the answer. Subconsciously I know that the chance is high that it is someone very close to me. Making friends in this sport is the worst thing there is. It could be my friend or colleague.

"Leclerc."

I swallow my saliva loudly, driving into the pit line. I stop the car only before the white line, seeing the red light next to it. I get out of the car when I see the mechanics approaching me. They will not resume the race too soon. I take off my helmet, handing it to someone from the team. I don't even pay attention to whom. I act as if in a trance. I go quickly to Christian. I need information.