Keep Me In | DR3 | BOOK 1

Prologue

- August 15th, 2018 📍 Toronto, Canada -

I've been doing this as long as I've known how to walk. Actually, you'd have to ask Dad or either of my two brothers to fact-check that. 

I wouldn't be shocked to hear that I'd actually been driving for longer.

It has been my life for 19 years. This is the opportunity that has been weighing on me for 19 years. The determining factor of my mental wellbeing, current and future. All of the missed birthdays, Christmas celebrations abroad in hotel rooms, hours of international travel and jetlag. Forfeiting a regular and idyllic University experience to instead earn my degree online because losing a year meant getting replaced. My brothers giving up their hobbies, losing friendships because they couldn't be there. 

It was supposed to make this worth it.

And yet, tangibly holding this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity— it feels weightless. I could almost even say worthless.

Now that's not to say I am not grateful for the opportunity at hand here, and at risk of sounding arrogant, I think it is well deserved. I'm proud of what I have managed to achieve thus far. When I followed in Carson's footsteps and began karting at 4, he would have thrown a fit if they told him by 10 I'd be sent across America and even Europe to compete in a single-seater. 

Carson's retirement from karting and having to move in to Grandma's with Rory would have been out of the question, as would testing for Fortec in the UK for that year. No one thought to tell them that they'd have to move to the UK because their baby sister had been picked up as a Red Bull junior and earned a spot on a Formula 3 team.

It seems as though we all blinked, and I was leading the Formula 2 championship. And now, this.

Jocelyn Fox and I make up the females on the grid this year. Myself on Carlin with Lando Norris, testing for Red Bull's F1 team, and Jocelyn Fox on ART with George Russell. It has been a unique season in many ways, and there has been a ton of speculation about drivers getting signed by F1 teams.

So why am I, one of the top drivers on the grid as the season stands so far, so surprised to be holding a contract from Christian Horner in my hands?

Daniel Ricciardo's seat. The fucker himself.

The car I'd been test and reserve driver for, for this season and the previous 2017 season. They were offering it to me on a silver platter.

Or, rather, in a dark blue envelope that weighed as much as this planet did.

If a weekend before a race ever isn't quite going my way, Dad gets me in a more positive headspace by playing this video of me at 15, before my first drive on a track in something that isn't a kart. It's of myself having a conversation with my older brothers. It's just children bantering, really, but something about it has always struck a chord with me.

It's what I'm reflecting back on most in this most important moment of contention. My brothers are sitting on the couch, my dad at the dinner table with his head in his hands, my boyfriend Eric at the kitchen counter. The room is a mixture of emotions; disappointment, concern, confusion. I couldn't discern what I should have been feeling, or if I maybe should've given my brothers a heads up first. All I knew was a storm of opinions was brewing. I had just built a brick wall in front of what everyone important to me had envisioned for me and my future.

"Are you positive the suits they use here are the same regulation as your karting suit? Because I'm looking around and no one's suit looks like yours, and also what's with the straps..."

I tuned Rory out, only to be faced with the same ideas from Carson, my brothers strolling on either side of me as we walked the track at Snetterton."...and those tires are against the wall to protect you, sure, but what happens after you slam into the wall? Where are the medics stationed around the map? Dad, she's barely 15, are we positive she is up to this level of dri-"

I couldn't take it anymore, they had been going on like this since we landed here 2 days ago. I stopped, turned around to face my brothers, and to their surprise I pulled them both into a big group hug.

I took a deep breath, "I'm going to make a promise to you both, right now," I started into our hug, "from this moment on, I will never do something so stupid that will cause you two to worry like this. From now until the end of my eventual Formula 1 career, when I retire with all my trophies and riches..." my brothers pull away from our hug, laughing. "But I'm being serious, you guys. Nothing will happen to me. I can do this."

"I don't know about you Carson, but I'm laughing at the idea of you in Formula 1, with 'all your riches...'" Rory started joking. I knew my message got to them as the worried statements ceased and the classic banter we're known for began.

And so, with that moment 8 years ago in mind, I held my contract in one hand and Eric's hand in the other as I announced to Dad and brothers that I had made a decision. 

Eric and my brothers all looked up at me, smiling. It was clear to me what they thought I was going to announce. Hell, I half expected a parade of flash-dancers to come bursting through the door at any second, at their demand. They were going back and forth about who was going to get to move to Europe with me, who would be my trainer, the likes of it all. It seemed as though the fantasies were endless with this lot. 

"...I will never do something so stupid..."

Dad was the only one silent. 

Part of me thought he had to have known what was coming, that he knew my answer the minute he handed me that thick blue envelope to look over two weeks ago. Dad knows me better than anyone.

"...nothing will happen to me. I can do this..."

I took a deep breath, and as everything going on around me turned to white noise, I looked at my Dad across the room and said, almost inaudibly.

"I can do this," I whispered to my feet, inaudible and unnoticed by everyone else in the room. I wasn't actually sure if I could or not. I was only half sure of where I'd go after this. It couldn't be back up to my room, no. I'd contrived half a plan already, the only thing I needed for it to work was for my feet to take me, rapidly, one step at a time.

I had to get away from all this. For now. Lights out, and—

"I'm not taking the Red Bull seat," I exhaled.

There it was. Out in the open, no going back. 

I could see Eric, Rory, and Carson in my peripherals, stunned and speechless at what I had just stated. Carson's hand moved over his mouth in shock, turning away to look out the window. Rory and Eric looked at each other, then to me, then to Dad, waiting for his response. 

Dad and I never broke eye contact. No air of surprise in his eyes, just assuredness. 

He had a good poker face on, just as he did whenever faced with something stressful. His only movement was the steady rise and fall of his shoulders as he sighed, and tilted his head towards me, motioning for me to continue.

So eerily calm and collected. Something I myself was trying really hard to mimic.

I steadied myself, "I won't sign that contract. I'll give Christian a call tomorrow morning to thank him for the opportunity. After this season, I'm done, Dad. I'm out."

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a/n: and so it begins! let me know what you think :)

- J