Page 12 of Green Flag
Something.
Anything.
But Livie took her away, leaving just the guys and Sally, the one female mechanic.
“Is Nix here?” Cris asked, peering around as I closed my locker.
He popped his head out from the garage door, sucking on a straw for an energy drink. “He is,” he said about himself.
“Right, gather round,” Cris said and everyone moved with startled glances at each other.
Some nodded and I expected him to discuss the inquiry — and tell everyone the same thing he had me, no media — but what came out of his mouth was, “So you’ve all met Everly by now.”
People mumbled in agreement. I hadn’t. Had he introduced everyone while I was getting changed? Did he know I had a fancying for her?
Had he seen that I’d liked every single one of her photos on social media over the last four years? How I’d drooled over her posts?
Oh, god damn, Iwasa creep.
She didn’t even follow me back.
One time, I’d been the first to like her post—before thousands of others jumped on the bandwagon—and it was probably my proudest achievement of the week. No, to be honest, month.
It had been a slow month.
“She is our temporary grid girl until we can replace Clara,” he said sternly. God, what did he offer to get her to do that? With her music on the radio, this was probably the last placeshe wanted to be. “And she is my daughter. I don’t want her to be given special treatment. She is here to do a job until she returns to university at the end of the month. That’s two races. But nobody, under any circumstances, is to touch her. Don’t look at her. Don’t breathe the same air as her. I’ll remind you that relationships within the team are strictly forbidden. Relations with my daughter will get you stricken off if not killed.”
Nix chuckled, and Cris’s head spun to him with a disgusted grimace. “Nix, Arabella will be your grid girl for the month. Luca, Everly will be yours.”
Because Cris couldn’t trust Nix around his daughter.
A year ago, he probably had reason to.
“Not interested, Cris,” Nix laughed. “I’ve just got out of something if you remember.”
“Yes, with your previous grid girl,” Cris snapped. “Luca can be trusted.”
But when he looked at me with desperate eyes, I knew he wasn’t talking about his daughter.
“I can be trusted,” I grumbled.
My dark cloud didn’t stop threatening to rain for the rest of the day. I qualified worse than usual. Twelfth.
And with my track record of the last ten races, I doubted I’d end up finishing better than that.
When our trailers were finally ready, I couldn’t wait to hibernate in mine, far away from the hotels of busy workers and the existence of my fellow racers who still believed racing was their calling.
Whenever I got on a bike… There was this pent-up, nervous energy in my bones that Nonna Imelda would lose not one but two of her grandchildren.
Back at the hotel, Mum’s call didn’t help. She’d read the inquiry — all of the details, the mention of Alv using his helmet outside of the sport — and she cried down the phone. Wailed.Listening to her tears sparked my own and I blinked them back because I had to be strong for her.
“You’re stuck there,” she sobbed. “With him. He’s not even taken accountability. You can’t…” She let out a gasped cry. “Luca, when we take them to court, it will turn nasty… I don’t want you in the middle of this. You’ve got to get out. Please. Please.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d begged me.
But what could I actually do? If I walked away, they would fine me. If I raced particularly poorly, no other team would take me on.
There was no way out.
