Page 32 of Green Flag
Luca was the only one still on the track.
7
Chapter 7
Everly
Luca’s bike remained a few inches past the white line that secured his position, but he was stuck, his wheels unmoving. His hands were in the air, and I could feel the fury even through the helmet.
“Run!” Abbé shouted at him. “Fucking run!”
And then he was off. Helmet still on, he sprinted through the crowd just off the track towards the pit lane. “What is going on?” Arabella asked, eyes narrowed in judgment as she watched Luca sprint on the screen. “He stalled. He won’t make it.”
“If he stalled when the race started, no, he wouldn’t,” I told her. “But he stalled at the warm-up lap. He has the time it will take to get to the pit lane to grab his other bike. Those in the pit will be changing the tyres of the backup bike from wet to normal.”
Damn, I’d missed the racing. There was a thrill in my veins as people cheered around me for Luca. I was biting my lip with worry but I was so excited for him to come back from this.
The racing was an adrenaline rush, whether you were on the bike or not.
“When a bike stalls, it needs to be electronically restarted. There’s no time to do that here. Whereas the other bike is ready.”
She looked me over. “You know a lot about the bikes. I just nod along.”
“I didn’t really have much choice when my father is my father,” I laughed. “But I had a good teacher.”
My ex had been obsessed with the bikes.
“Well, do you think he’ll make it?”
“They won’t wait for him,” I said, and instead of showing the warm-up lap, the screen showed Luca in his green and red leathers bolting through the pit lane.
“He’ll have to wait for everyone to go past,” I explained. “He’ll be in position twenty-four, far from the twelfth he should have been.”
“He’ll have to do a lot of overtaking,” she commented, gesturing to the track. “He hasn’t done much of that so far. He’s stayed consistent. If he qualifies in a position, the likeliness is he’ll be a couple of positions off.”
“That won’t be enough today,” I worried aloud.
God, with so much pressure on him, I wasn’t surprised he’d stalled it. Or that he would feel the need to take it too far.
“Nix has overtaken already,” Bella said.
But I wasn’t focused on him. The world was just the screens and Abbé talking into his microphone as Luca legged it. On the screen, he was now on his bike as the racers pulled up from their warm-up lap.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered. “I don’t know if he’ll make it. I wouldn’t want to be running anywhere in this heat. Let alone in leathers.”
Nix, in the front line, looked behind him to see where his teammate was and, when he couldn’t see him, looked over to us in the safety box. I waved my hands in a dramatic shrug.
Bella laughed. “You wouldn’t catch me running anywhere.”
But Luca was on his bike as the official race started.
“Let’s hope he learns to overtake,” Bella mumbled.
As the race started, the bikes’ loud, excited groans didn’t scare me this time; I was too focused on my rider.
Because that’s what he was. I was his grid girl. And, even though I hardly knew him, I really wanted him to succeed. He deserved it.
The commentary only spoke of him, even as they went past the first corner and they all became a swarm of bikes that tried to overtake each other. There was a minor crash — knocking one bike out and making another wobble — but no one gave it more than the slightest mention.
