between the lines | p.js

chapter eleven

She rolled onto the track, engine screaming, tires gripping. Haechan swooped past on the straight, shouting something ridiculous over the comms, but she didn't flinch. Jeno followed silently, his line impeccable, every corner like a scalpel.

Her focus narrowed. Every apex, every braking point, every micro-adjustment felt intentional. And when she glanced in the rearview, she saw the flash of silver—not Jisung, not yet—but Chenle, testing her in a controlled way, grinning like he had a secret.

Lap after lap, Nari felt her confidence grow. She wasn't perfect, but she was improving, applying Renjun's advice in real time. And with each maneuver, she felt the tiniest thread of anticipation—how would Jisung respond when he saw her truly push her limits?

After the session, Nari pulled into the pit area. Her visor came up, sweat glinting on her forehead, suit damp and clinging. She leaned against her car, exhaling as mechanics quickly inspected tires and brakes.

"Not bad," a voice said, smooth and quiet.

Nari turned. Jisung had just stepped out of his garage, helmet tucked under one arm. His eyes landed on her, and for a heartbeat, the world shrank to just the two of them.

"Thanks," she said evenly.

"You're applying Renjun's advice," he noted, tilting his head slightly. "Good line choices, smarter braking points."

Her chest warmed slightly at the compliment, but she kept her tone neutral. "I don't need praise."

He smirked faintly, stepping closer. "I didn't say it was praise. Observation."

Their hands brushed, almost by accident, as he reached for a telemetry sheet she was holding. A jolt shot through her—brief, undeniable, and gone the instant it happened. Her ears warmed, her pulse ticked faster. Jisung didn't comment, didn't even look flustered, but she caught the tiny twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Careful with my stuff," she said lightly, trying to mask the flush creeping up her neck.

"Noted," he murmured, giving her a look that was equal parts challenge and... something else she couldn't quite name.

She shook her head, straightening. "You're still going to win next lap?"

"Maybe," he said, voice calm, low. "Maybe not."

It wasn't an answer. But it was enough to leave her thinking long after he walked away.

Later, back in the garage, Jaemin returned just as Nari was loosening her gloves. He flopped onto a chair, leaning back lazily.

"Track looks good on you," he said with a smirk. "I could watch you all day."

"Keep dreaming," she replied, tossing him a mock glare.

He caught it, chuckled. "Nope. I'm serious. You're improving faster than I expected. It's... impressive. Dangerous, even."

Nari laughed quietly. "Dangerous?"

"Yeah," he said, shrugging, eyes twinkling. "You make me rethink my tactics just by existing on the track. And not just me—others notice too."

She shook her head, trying not to let the compliment linger too long in her mind. Jaemin's energy was magnetic, playful, teasing—but underneath it was something else, something that could almost be sincerity if she squinted hard enough.

"Don't let it get to your head," she warned.

"Too late," he said, grinning. "I'm already impressed. But hey, don't think this makes me soft. You still have to beat me in practice sometime."

"I'm not worried about you," she said evenly.

"Good answer," he said, eyes sparkling. "Keep it up, rookie. You're going places. Dangerous, stubborn, and—" he leaned closer, whispering, "—definitely someone to watch."

She blinked, surprised by how much warmth his words carried. "I'll take that under advisement."

Jaemin finally leaned back, giving her a wink before heading out to check on his own car.

By evening, the garage had quieted. The mechanics were finishing up, the last lights flicking off. Nari sat on the pit wall, helmet resting beside her, hands clasped loosely. She thought about the day.

She let herself smile faintly. Every interaction felt like pieces of a puzzle: teasing, testing, observing, pushing. And for the first time, she realized she was starting to see the whole picture.

Her gaze drifted to the shadows of the track. Tomorrow, the pace would be faster. The pressure higher. And Jisung would be waiting.

But she was ready. She would push, she would adapt, she would take what she'd learned and carve her own path.

And somewhere in the mix of adrenaline, flirty banter, and the heat of competition, Nari felt a small, unexpected warmth in her chest.

The kind that had nothing to do with speed—and maybe, just maybe, a little to do with dark brown eyes she couldn't stop thinking about.