Page 126 of Crash Course Omega
They set the race up in a way that all the charities will get a donation no matter what. It aligns with the standard point system of F1, except, instead of 25 points, the winner will receive $25,000 to donate to a charity of their choice. Everyone agreed that they would make up the money, so our charities will all get $25,000. But we still want to come in first.
And I have my bet with Maddock to fulfill.
We chose our own charities. I focused on a UK based one, Cardboard Citizens, that puts on shows and plays to raise awareness about homelessness, performed by people who were made homeless in their lives.
It’s a passion project from my Mum's side of the family, and I hope the race will let people know that these charities exist. We’ve chosen charities along a broad range of causes: animals, children, the welfare of countries. And anyone watching can send in a donation as well. It’s set to be a great event, we just have to make sure that we’re all racing safely.
Because Runa and Aster are still glaring daggers at Maddock like they haven’t forgiven him for taking P3 from them weeks ago.
As the engines rev and the crowd swells with cheers, I send out a small prayer, hoping that we’ll all stay safe. My heart bursts with excitement as I crank the engine, those five red lights build up, the tension rising. And, as they suddenly vanish, engines roar, and we take off.
Even though it's supposed to be a charity race, the Cuba Libre racer is being a dick. The whole point is to advertise friendlyracing and promote good causes, but he put so much effort into overtaking the Grace and Valkyrie drivers during the first twenty laps, and now he's coming after the actors.
They don’t stand a chance.
It’s easy for me to get out into P1, especially when my four co-stars aren’t so sure about going at full speed down the long straights of the Silverstone track.
But the Cuba Libre driver chews up the track, swerving past two of the actors in lap fifteen to take P3 like he's out for an easy jog.
Now we’re almost at the lights for our penultimate lap, and he's coming at me on a mission. I ease my foot up, gulping before I hit the three ninety-degree corners that will take me there.
And the whole thing is so exciting and infuriating that perfume is thick around me.
But even after twenty-eight laps, it's still nerve-racking to turn the steering wheel left-right-right, and grinding so hard when I’m never quite sure if the car might spin out.
“Jacob, what’s this asshole doing?” I ask as I speed away from a tight corner and shoot under the lights.
Silverstone is one of the harder tracks of the entire season, and the Cuba Libre isn’t messing around.
“I don’t know, but the crowd’s already excited, so just leave him be. Don’t try anything risky.”
“Thanks for the support. You’re really looking out for those charities, aren’t you?”
“I’m looking out foryou,” he presses.
“Come on, no one's gone over 200kmph apart from the Cuba Libre. We’ll be fine.”
“You’re only saying that because you think 200kmph is normal,” he bites back.
“Are you really going to do this when I'm near the finish line?” I ask, and he goes silent.
I want to know what Maddock and Jaxx are doing. From what Jacob told me earlier, they're having their own fun at the back of the grid with the alpha females.
It’s better this way. If I could see their cars, I'd probably start slicking even harder.
“Anyway, are you really going to let this guy take you over when you’re driving a Grace car?” Jacob asks, and then it's my turn to go silent.
He has a point. What will it look like if three Grace cars lose to a Cuba Libre in a charity race? I don’t mind losing to the Valkyries in their sleek gray cars with white wings painted on the sides, but the Cuba Libre looks like he's out to win. Maybe his charity is just that important?
I’m not just doing this for my family. Or to represent the movie. I’m winning this for myself, the charity, and my pack, because I already know what I want to do when we get back to that grid. It will just be better if I pull in in first.
I grit my teeth as the Cuba Libre closes in fast, and I don’t want to give him an inch to spare.
I’m not sure I can hold my own against him, even for a lap.
It's like Maddock says. Sneaking days of racing on the Grace track with the trainees and reserve team while my family were away for the season combined with my crash course doesn’t count against professionals. And there’s still a tremble inside me at how easily I can be bumped off of the course.
As we draw closer to the finish line, my excitement makes me perfume even more.
