Page 17 of Formula Chance

“It’s just… it’s a lot, Dad,” I say finally. “New team, new car, trying to stay sharp and all that. Plus, there’s Bex.”

I’d told my parents about Bexley being on the team, but they’ve been stoically nonverbal in how they feel about it. My parents didn’t like to see me brokenhearted, but they also loved Bex and realized there was fault on both sides.

Even if I couldn’t see or admit it.

My dad’s tone is neutral. “I imagine that’s difficult. You two didn’t exactly end things on the best terms. Will you be able to work together?”

“Our interactions have been nominal so far, but that’s going to change when we get back after this race. It’s been a bit up and down between us. We’re trying to keep things professional, but we just had a run-in, and we yelled at each other.”

My dad’s voice softens, and I can hear the wisdom in his tone. “Sounds like you’ve got some unresolved feelings there, but that’s not surprising. She’s part of your past and your relationship never really had a defined ending. It just faded without a concrete resolution to give closure. And now she’s part of your present. You can’t ignore that.”

“I’m not ignoring it, I’m just… trying not to deal with it,” I admit, feeling the weight of my own frustration. “It’s not easy to forget the shit we went through. I’m trying to focus on the team, on the race, but every time she’s in the room, it feels like I’m back there again, fighting for something that’s long gone.”

My dad lets out a long breath, the kind that means he’s thinking carefully about what to say. “Look, I’m not saying you should just forgive and forget. You had something amazing and then you didn’t, and I know both of you were hurt. But maybe this is an opportunity, Nash. An opportunity for you to grow, to move past all that. To deal with it, not by ignoring it, but by facing it head-on.”

I run a hand through my hair, irritated by the idea. “You think that’s what this is? An opportunity?”

“Yeah, I do. And it’s okay if you’re angry. Hell, I get it. But I’m not sure you ever really had a chance to process losing Bex. You got in the crash not long after that, and well… you were just trying to recover. You’ve been through a lot and maybe now’s a good time to evaluate what really happened between you and her. This could be your chance to put it behind you and get to a place where it doesn’t haunt you anymore.”

I stare at the floor, his words sinking in. He’s right, of course. He always is. I know what he’s saying—that holding on to the past is only going to weigh me down. But am I ready to forgive Bex? And will she forgive me? It’s funny, but the wounds and scars from the burns I sustained in the crash seemed to have healed far better than the wounds she created on my heart. I wonder if hers still hurts the way mine does.

“That’s a lot to think about, but I promise I will.”

My dad’s voice is gentle but firm. “That’s fair, son. Just remember… you can stay mad, let that anger fester and hold you back, or you can move forward. It’s not about letting her off the hook but about giving yourself the freedom to not be controlled by the past anymore.”

I know he’s right, but I also know that’s not something I can switch on like a light. And yet it’s something I’m going to have to deal with sooner or later. If both Bex and I stay at Titans Racing, we’ll have to get along or neither of us will succeed.

“As always, Mr. Sinclair, you offer the best advice,” I say with a chuckle. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Will you tell Bex your mom and I said hello?” he asks tentatively.

“Of course I will,” I assure him. I would never begrudge my parents reaching out to her. They loved her, just as I did. Granted, they were more circumspect about the entire breakup, somehow able to see both sides of the coin, but they had my back through it all. “Listen… I got to go into a meeting. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Sounds great,” my dad says.

“Oh, and tell Mom to stop buying stuff for my apartment. I just need the very basics. I won’t be there that much anyway with the race schedule.”

“You tell your mom that,” my dad quips. “I’m not about to rain on her parade.”

Laughing, I say, “Fair enough. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, son.”

I hang up, considering my dad’s advice. He’s right about one thing: This is a new start for me. It’s also a new start for Bexley.

There’s no reason we can’t both succeed at this.

CHAPTER 6

Bex

The heat isoppressive as I step out of the hotel, and the hijab I’m wearing isn’t helping. While Saudi Arabia is a conservative country with rigid adherence to the laws of Islam, women are not required to wear the hijab as long as they dress modestly. However, the women on our team—as do many of the race teams—choose to wear the hijab to cover our hair when out in public as a sign of respect.

I follow behind the other engineers as we make our way over to the track, within walking distance from where we’re staying. In a few hours, we’ll conduct the track walk, which is part tradition and part crucial work. The entire team, including the drivers, will traverse it together, making detailed notes of surface conditions, curbs, braking zones and the like.

We’re all wearing our Titans Racing gear—white, long-sleeve shirts with subtle purple trim and logo patches across the chest, back and arms. All our major sponsors are displayed with the Titans logo on the chest pocket and across the back of the shoulders.

I inhale deeply, loving the smell of saltwater as the Red Sea sparkles in tones of orange under the late-afternoon sun. Although it’s sweltering, I know in a few hours I’ll be able to feel the cooler temperatures as they’re carried on the sea breeze.

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