“Damn girl, I don’t know how you ended up with that one. Sex on wheels.” Sophie winks at me except it comes off like a twitch.
I let out my first laugh of the day.
Nothing special happens during the beginning of the race. The grid has Liam in P1, with Noah, Jax, and my brother following behind. I don’t know how the other teams don’t get bored being on the back of the grid. But I guess they live their best lives anyway, happy to compete and do what they love every day. F1 calls them the “best of the rest.”
The racers take off, a few cars skidding and sliding across the wet pavement. Thankfully, both the McCoy and Bandini teams make it out of the grid perfectly intact. Our boys drive down a narrow straight with Liam in the lead. Sophie smiles and claps her hands together when Noah fails to overtake him.
Bad news rings through the radio and television. Santi turns rapidly, and with the slick roads, he crashes during a tight turn. His car stalls next to a barrier wall with the left wheel dislodged and rolling away. He retires as a one-lap wonder.
My brother lets out his frustrations on camera. The radio buzzes with chatter as Sophie’s dad calms him down, soothing him like a parent would during a child’s tantrum. What a sucky job to work with hot-headed drivers.
“My dad deals with anger like a champ; no wonder he handled my teenage rage so well,” Sophie mumbles.
“He puts up with these two all season long so his patience must be endless.”
I try to imagine Sophie’s teen outbursts, resembling something along the lines of Tinkerbell stomping her foot.
My eyes remain glued on the television. “Santi’s going to be pissed for retiring early.”
Santi stands next to his car, the camera crew catching him smacking the red metal frame.
The safety car drops my brother off in the garage ten minutes later. I give him a quick hug and some words of encouragement before he heads on up to his suite, claiming he needs a break and meditation. My heart hurts at how defeated he looks, his shoulders hunched over as he disappears.
Sophie nudges me. “That went better than expected, no thrown helmets or dramatic sweeping of tools off a rolling cart.”
“Does anyone else comment on your vivid imagination?”
“Duh, Liam—all the time. Says I should write stories and make money off my madness.” She nods like she has considered the idea.
Liam and Noah fight for the first-place spot. They each pull off risky moves, trying to get around each other. Anticipation and nerves mix around inside of me. A few times their tires lose traction, but they regain momentum, pulling back onto the track before they stall. Liam’s car spins out once as he expertly misses a barrier and gains enough force to keep driving. Another ten laps to go. Noah attempts to overtake Liam at the turn, but the road looks too wet.
My stomach rolls at the live coverage, a helpless witness to the noise of crunching metal and squealing tires, and the gasps from the pit. Sophie’s dad yells into his radio, but his words are hard to make out.
Liam’s front wing and tire clip the underside of Noah’s car. My blood pumps loudly in my ears, making it impossible to hear shit out of the radio. I’m silently sitting on the edge of my seat as time slows down, frame by frame, and the crash happens.
Noah’s car flips on its side and proceeds to barrel roll. Once. Twice. Three fucking times. It bounces again before it drags across the road, slamming into the barrier at an estimated one hundred and seventy miles per hour. Holy shit. The complete underside of his car is exposed, tires spinning and liquid leaking down the metal.
Tears flood my eyes at Noah’s lack of response to any radio calls. Wetness streams down my face. Sophie’s dad speaks into the radio, the only voice in the quiet garage.
Smoke billows from Noah’s car despite the drizzling rain. It rises, darkening the air above him. More silence from the radio. Orange flames lick at the red paint of the Bandini car, marring it, making it look all wrong.
Noah speaks into the radio.
“Fuck, there’s a fire. I’m upside down. Please get me the fuck out of here! Now!” My heart sinks at his heavy breathing, his voice betraying his fear.
Flames engulf the cockpit of the car. Bile builds up in the back of my throat, my body fighting with everything to keep it down.
Sophie’s dad speaks into his microphone. “They’re on their way. Keep calm, Noah! We’ll get you out of there. Take a few deep breaths. They’re bringing the fire extinguishers now.”
“Where the fuck is the safety team? The crane? My suit is on fire! There’s a shit-ton of smoke coming from the car, making it hard to breathe.” His labored breaths garble the radio.