The Chequered Flag || Lando Norris

2 | Talk

"Shit!" I said looking down at my shoes. Then, I started to apologize profusely to the person I'd bumped into, "Oh! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going at all, I'll pay for your drink. Just, whatever I can do, let me know and I'll do it. I'm so so sorry."

I kept my eyes directed at my shows out of embarrassment while I waited for an answer from the stranger. I was starting to worry about why they hadn't had any reaction to what I'd said when I was handed a stack of napkins.

I looked up at the person I'd bumped into, ready to thank them for being so kind when I stopped with my mouth halfway open. The boy I'd bumped into saw the flash of recognition and quietly led me outside.

I stared at him for a moment before snapping out of my trance. "I'm so sorry!" I said, burying my face in my hands.

"Hey," the boy said, "I'm the one who should be sorry. I spilled coffee all over you."

"That may be," I said, taking my head out of my hands. "But I definitely was not paying as much attention to where I was going as I should have been!"

"Okay, true. I guess we're mutually at fault," he said with a small smile, "Why were you in such a rush anyway?"

"I was supposed to be here to get my friend at 2:00 so she didn't have to get a ride home with the guy who's been hitting on her for the past couple months." My words were starting to blur together. "She just doesn't feel safe around him, so I'm trying to be helpful. Butobviouslythatfailedmiserably.... And now I'm rambling." I said. "Sorry, I just did not expect to run into one of... well, I'm sure you know."

"No," the boy said smugly, "I don't. I think you'll have to tell me what you mean."

I let out a nervous laugh, "Okay," I said choosing my words carefully, "Let's just say, when I woke up today I wasn't expecting to meet one of the people I would flip out if I ever saw in person."

"Well," the boy said, "You seem to be handling it relatively well, huh?"

"I suppose." I said, sheepishly.

"You seem to already know this, but my name's Lando." He said with a flash of a genuine smile.

I laughed at his comment. "Camilla."

"Camilla." Lando said, slowly. As if he were tasting each syllable of my name like a fine wine. "That's a beautiful name."

"Um... thanks." I said. This was all too much for me and I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I still had coffee all over the front of my shirt.

Lando seemed to notice too, and he made me take the stack of paper towels he had offered earlier. I looked down to start blotting, and my face immediately flushed a deep red. My shirt was completely soaked through, and I'd been wearing a black lace bra. I had just stood and talked to Lando Norris with my bra showing through my shirt.... I had just stood. And talked. To Lando Norris. WITH MY BRA. SHOWING. THROUGH. MY. SHIRT.

"Thanks," I said, sure my face was entirely flushed. I rushed to finish the conversation, sure this was no less awkward for him. Theres no way he would choose to be standing in the parking lot of some random café he'd probably never been to, dealing with some girl who knew he wasn't some nobody. I tried to let him know it was totally fine (maybe even preferred, for my own sanity) if he left, "I really appreciate your help, I'm sorry again, and if there's anything I can do, please let me know."

I turned to walk off, sufficiently embarrassed about how awful that experience was, when Lando called after me. "Camilla, do you need a new shirt or something?"

"Um, I'm not sure." I said, "I'll just have to check in my car to see if I have something in there."

"Okay, I'll wait here to make sure you get something." He said, horrifying me with the thought. I knew I didn't have anything in the boot of my car, but I couldn't deal with the awkwardness anymore. This was definitely going in the pile of stories about why I was so nervous about talking to people.

"Oh, please, you don't have to do that. I'm sure you have much better things to be off to." I said in an effort to seem considerate, when actually just I wished I could hide under a rock.

"Actually, today I don't." He said with a kind smile. "Summer break."

"Right," I said.

Shit. I thought.

I walked over to my car, knowing damn well I didn't have anything I could cover up my shirt with, when I felt my phone buzz. I checked it and saw it was Kate telling me she had a ride home so I didn't need to worry about picking her up after all. I sighed with relief because it meant I didn't have to see her after being so flustered and deal with her inevitable questions.

It took me a second to realize what her text meant: I could just leave. I was about to walk around to the front of my car, when I stopped and actually thought about my situation. I had just met Lando Norris. Granted: awful situation to meet him in, but he had been incredibly nice about it all. And I was thinking about driving away without so much as a "Thanks for not getting mad at me!" or something.

When I came back from my car, Lando was leaning against the building. "Nothing?" He asked. I shook my head in response.

He held out a bright orange sweatshirt to me. A McLaren sweatshirt. "You sure?" I said.

"Of course." He replied, before joking, "It's not very good for going undercover anyways."

I laughed with him as I took the sweatshirt from him. "Thanks."

"Of course." He said. "So, I was thinking a little more about what you said..." My eyes widened, wondering what I had said that he would have to think about. "And I think I do have something I want you to do for me."

"Okay." I said cautiously. Making a mental note to train myself out of saying "whatever you want" when I didn't need to.

"Well," He said, looking down at his feet. "Truth is, I'm a bit bored right now. It's the only reason I came to this coffee shop." He shook his head, as if to clear it, "My point is, would you be willing to have a conversation with me?"

I scrunched my face up in confusion. "You want to have a conversation with a fan?"

"Well, to be honest, you don't seem like you're a fan—I mean, you seem like a normal person—in a good way."

"Why's that?" I said, still trying to grasp what was up.

"Well, you've actually kept up a decent conversation with me, you haven't screamed my name even once, and you haven't asked for a photo or an autograph or anything." He looked down at his hands. "You're just treating me like a normal person, even though you know who I am and what I do. And that's kind of refreshing."

"Oh, that's too bad," I deadpanned, "I was just about to ask you if you could sign my forehead, actually."

Lando laughed at my ridiculous comment. "Of course I'll talk to you." I said.

"Great!" Lando exclaimed, "Wait, what about your friend?"

"Oh, um, she said she found a ride home. I guess she didn't think I made it or something. Anyway, I'm in no rush to get home, 'cause I'm sure I'll get chewed out the second I step into the flat for not being there to pick her up."

Lando laughed. "Hey," He said, "Do you mind if we get away from this parking lot? It feels a bit awkward to talk here."

"Sure, where do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Well, to be honest, I was thinking about just driving around and talking."

"Sounds perfect." I responded.

Lando walked me to a nice, bright orange McLaren.

"Very discreet." I said as he opened up the passenger door for me.

"Yeah, a perfect getaway car if I ever need to hide from the police." He joked.