“I was going to hang out in the pit with my dad. This is one of the biggest races of the year, so I’m sure it’ll be crazy down there.”
I pull out my phone before she finishes her sentence. She watches as I tap around on the screen.
I break the silence after a few minutes. “What’s your number?”
“Seriously, you try to hit on me after you ask where my friend is? You were dry-humping her the other day.”
My jaw clenches. “No. You’re skipping out on the pit today. Your dad sent me a ticket, beyond enthused that you want to see the race like a true fan.”
I smirk at her wide eyes while she tells me her number. She doesn’t speak another word, thank God. Maya can avoid me all she wants, but it doesn’t mean she has to do it alone. I’ll get my way eventually. These types of games don’t phase me because I have enough stamina to outdo her.
My lips twitch as I think up a plan to get her alone after the race. She can evade me all she wants, but it doesn’t mean I need to. Two can play this game.
17
Maya
I hear Sophie before I see her. She yells at a guy to stop accosting her in the stands. Her vocab choices are something else, a testament to reading one too many classic novels.
She makes her way toward the seat next to mine and settles down. We look the same, twinning in Bandini polos and ear protection gear.
“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to spend time in the pit.”
Nearby fans give us weird looks. I tug my hat lower on my face and pull down my sound-reducing earmuffs to hear her better.
She shrugs, picking up that trick from me. I nudge her in the ribs.
“Ouch. Fine. No need to get physical. Noah cornered me earlier asking where you were.” She rubs her rib.
Did I hear her right? “And you ended up here how?”
“Noah forced me to, I guess so you’re not alone.”
It shocks me that he even cares.
“Did he say anything else?” I fiddle with the settings on my camera.
“He said, and I quote—” her voice drops lower to imitate Noah’s—“I didn’t know she was a fan of hiding. Let her know when I find her, she won’t like it. I was the champ at hide-and-seek growing up.”
“What? Seriously?” My voice screeches.
“No! That’s a terrible pick-up line. He’s better than that. I’m messing with you.” Her laugh fills the silence. She’s giving me a severe case of emotional whiplash today. “But there was some observable tension. I may conclude that he likes when you hang out on race days?”
“I didn’t think he cared if I was around on Sundays.”
Her eyes shine. “Hmm. I don’t know about that. Noah seemed agitated that you weren’t around earlier. At least enough to ask me about it.”
Announcers cut off our conversation, letting the crowd know the race will begin momentarily.
The crowd quiets down as red lights flash above the grid. Everyone holds their breath for the start of the race, electric energy charging the stands as race car engines rev. My heart beats along with the flashing signals above the grid. The moment the lights change, cars take off down the track toward the first turn. The Monaco Prix circuit can be unforgiving, especially if a driver makes an error, like under-or overestimating a speed during a curve.
Noah keeps his lead around the first bend, with my brother not far behind. Santiago’s car zooms past one of the straightaways before turning another tight corner. Liam and Jax compete against each other for the third position.
Monaco’s track seems unlike any other in the Prix schedule. Constricted roads keep cars compacted, not allowing much room for mistakes. Jax and Liam avoid a disastrous collision with each other at one of the turns. Pieces of metal fly as the cars graze one another, the sound of clanging metal against the ground ringing across the Prix. The crowd gasps as Jax’s car careens toward the side. He uses his momentum to get back on the track, narrowly avoiding a catastrophic crash.
Hums of the cars zipping across the pavement fill me with excitement as Noah and Santi pass us, completing their first lap. The crowd feels alive and energetic, chanting out the names of their favorite drivers while waving flags and signs in the air. My own body pulses with exhilaration as Sophie and I get up to cheer. Fans hang out on nearby balconies, overlooking the race from hotel rooms.
The smell of burning rubber fills my nose, a scent I’ve come to love during my time here.
Noah continues to fight for the lead with my brother. He remains defensive of his position, which makes it hard for Santi and others to get ahead of him. My brother tries to overtake him multiple times but can’t since the Monaco course makes it tough to rise up the ranks. Often, the position you start with is the one you end with as long as you don’t crash.