Page 13 of Jump Start

“You wouldn’t leave without giving me a hug, would you?” My voice broke on the last syllable as I noticed how nice she felt pinned against my side.

“Of course not!” Her light laugh made me smile widely, asshe put her arm around my waist.

I caught Holly’s eye as we stood there together and winked at her, which was met with a monstrous eye roll.

Harper pulled herself away from me, her face red. “Well, I better go and pack my stuff, long drive back to the big smoke from here,” she blurted out before she turned to walk back to my office. I found myself staring after her for minutes after she’d left.

Having her against my side, feeling her soft skin, was addictive and I had to find new ways of being close to her again. If she’d let me.

***

Darwin. Thirty-nine degrees. It was hot. I preferred the races in the southern states because it was less hellish in the cockpit. But with my cool suit on, hydrated to the shithouse, I was ready as I’d ever be.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and waited for the techs to buckle me in. Dry ice would be our saviour today. While I waited idly, Harper’s face flashed beneath my eyelids for a brief moment. It was weird, but not unwelcome. Her blonde hair always reflected the light no matter where she was, bright and beautiful.

I had to face facts. I always liked her, but I was just being stubborn. Her news article on me was coming out today and I guess I was nervous. I hadn’t been very accommodating to her—understatement of the century— so I was keen to see what sort of light she would paint me in. At the end of the day, Harperwas a professional and, despite my problems with the media, I knew she was honest. Whatever she wrote about me, good or bad, I probably deserved it.

“Alright, Thomas, practice lap should tell us if the front steering has been fixed or not. Keep us updated,” Tony spoke calmly through the radio.

“Understood,” I replied and placed both hands on the steering wheel, keen to find a distraction from the flowing blonde hair and hazel eyes still firmly planted in my mind.

Seven

Harper

“Well, I’m going to settle in and watch the race now,” I said to my dad, after speaking on the phone for over an hour.

“Words I never thought I’d hear my daughter say. I will too, I think. Love you, sweetheart.” I placed my phone on the couch and turned the TV to a sports channel I never stayed on for longer than a minute.

A beautifully presented female journalist appeared on screen first, standing in a team garage.

“Welcome to the World GT Racing Car Championship Australia. We’re day two here in Darwin. It’s a balmy, thirty-nine-degree day, and we can’t wait to see what unfolds.” After her introduction, the list of drivers appeared on screen. Thomas was second, his perfectly sculpted hair was tousled just right. He was holding his racing helmet in his hands but was looking down, laughing. The sight of his smile was beginning to make me feel a little weak, if I was being honest with myself.

I had no idea what to expect from this coverage, but I enjoyed seeing Chris and Will on the screen. Keeping it on in the background, I haphazardly cleaned my apartment, freezing in many different spots when something exciting would happen. Usually, at this point on a Saturday, I would be going for a walkwith friends or stopping in at the local store to buy food for the week. I didn’t mind the change in routine.

A while later, it was time for the race, so I sat down with a bowl of popcorn to watch it unfold. I was quickly becoming a fan of the whole thing, with the loud engines roaring, the expert commentating mixed with the vibrant colours of each team. I had to admit, Echidna Racing had the best colours—bright green and purple. I sent a good luck message to Chris for the day and to tell him I was fast becoming a fan. I was met with an instant reply.

Chris:Fantastic, you should come and join us next time, Allenwright!

I smiled, grateful for how welcoming Chris had been. He was an excellent leader for the staff and the team; pure passion and love for the sport motivated him.

All of the teams and cars were lined up on the starting grid, with the same journalist walking around talking to each of them. When approached, Thomas smiled before quickly putting his helmet on to answer his questions.

“Thank you, yes, very much looking forward to this race. We had some good pace this weekend, just looking to keep the momentum going.” He nodded and turned to speak with Tony, deciding the conversation was over for him. Typical.

“And the Darwin GT Enduro is underway,” the commentators announced after a practice lap. The first lap burst with action, with the cars twisting and turning down the track, weaving in and out between each other, some grazing side panels, in attempts to pass. Down the first corner was utter chaos, all the cars bottlenecked, and one even spun off the track, ruining their attempt at a perfect first lap. I looked out for thetwo Echidna Racing cars, number 45 and 89, Will and Thomas respectively. They were currently running side by side, with Thomas edging forward ever so slightly.

I wondered what their relationship was like. Thomas insisted they were friends, but he was dominating in points and skill, as opposed to Will, who was more experienced but lagging. The first race I watched of Thomas’s was when Will was encouraged to overtake to earn him more points since the Championship wasn’t in Thomas’s grasp just yet. This fired Thomas up on the radio and also after the race. Whenever I saw them together, they seemed civilised, but I could always feel slight hesitation on Thomas’s behalf. Maybe that was just him.

The remainder of the race was not quite as dramatic as the first lap, with not so much side panel damage. The pit stops were clean, and fast, and Thomas was drifting between second and third place, eyeing off first as his car hung off the back of the number one spot. Hungrily, he swerved from left to right, trying to overtake the first car, intimidating them. I could imagine his jaw clenched and his knuckles white through his gloves on the steering wheel. On the third last corner of the track, on the final lap, Thomas made his move. He was cunning and unforgiving as he touched the bumper of the car in front of him and then swerved out to overtake. It was a last-ditch attempt for first place, and the commentators matched his energy.

“Henry-Jackson overtakes Eagan with ease and relentless attitude. He’s going to win again, moving himself ever so slightly up the Championship list. Chris Verco is going to be one happy team owner.”

Just as they finished speaking, Thomas’s car powered through the finish line. The Echidna team ran out past the pitsonto the side fence to yell out Thomas’s name while hugging each other. I felt a sense of pride, not just in Thomas winning, but in the team who I knew worked so hard, celebrating as well. These were as much their wins as Thomas’s.

I sent a congratulatory text to Chris and the team on social media and stood up to turn the TV off, when suddenly, Thomas’s car pulled up at the number one podium stand. His tall frame contorted as he disembarked from the car, the commentator catching him straight away.

“Congratulations, Thomas! Another win for you. How was that race?” the interviewer asked, angling her microphone up under the helmet that he was trying to take off.

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