Page 84 of Green Flag
And I felt guilty for so much as thinking it.
He patted my shoulder and said, “I’m here for you if you need me.”
Let me leave,I wanted to beg.Just let me go.
My family were going to sue. Rightfully. As they should.
And I was going to be smack bang in the middle of it all, unable to speak out because of my contract.
I clutched the helmet to my chest as Nix slammed open the door to the pit and made a beeline for his locker. “I’m going now,” he said, unzipping his leathers. “I’m getting the next flight. Livie is coming with me.”
Cris argued, but I was paying no attention, stroking the saddle of the bike that should have been Alv’s.
“I need to say goodbye,” Nix begged with tears in his eyes.
He wanted to say sorry.
In the beginning, I’d asked Nix if he wanted to come and visit Alv with me, but he’d awkwardly given excuses. I hadn’t pushed. He couldn’t face him. He couldn’t face the guilt.
Though it wasn’t his to bear.
Don stood looking at the floor. It washis.
“I’ll stay,” I said when Cris brought up the lack of points for Ciclati. “I’ve already said my goodbyes. I… I’ll ride.”
Abbé stood up from the sofa. “Are you sure you’ll be okay to do that when—”
“I’ll ride in honour of him,” I said, picking up my helmet and nodding to Sally who removed the wheel warmers.
But when I stepped towards the bike my legs didn’t move. My feet were made from lead.
The saddle was there for the taking, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t good enough.
‘StormSprint’s breakout rider’ was what Everly had called me.
On that first day.
She always had such faith in me.
And I got onhisbike, imagining it would make her proud.
I treated Alv’s bike well, lap after lap, just as Nix had taught me earlier in the day when our worlds were very different—simpler, peaceful.
Not that I didn’t feel at peace on the bike. The clarity was safe within my stomach, soothing the edges of the growing hole of grief. When I picked up speed, I almost wanted to scream along with the revs, cry with the wind and the freedom.
But I kept quiet.
* * *
For the first time, Everly didn’t send me a video clip to communicate with me. She sent me a text.
EVERLY: So sorry. I’m here for you. Whatever you need, let me know. Even if you want a cheeky shot of tequila at the bar, or I could best you at your games if you’d rather.
I took myself to the hotel, an hour away from the track, and waited for her to come.
When she didn’t, I recorded myself there, lifting a shot of tequila to my mouth but then dropping a finger into the shot, licking my finger and winking awkwardly at her.
I laughed after, because it was one of the most horrific things I had ever done.
