Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 29

please comment throughout and make me feel validated lmao

remember when i used to upload every thursday and sunday? yeah, that'll never happen again aha but i'm so sorry it's been two weeks! have an early update!

💃 later on

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"Five place grid penalty? Are you having a fucking laugh?" Max asked, a look of disbelief on his face. With his eyebrows furrowed and top lip curled, he stood up from the bed. I had just returned to the hotel room from a longer-than-average debrief where a key topic of conversation was the first lap incident and it's consequences. The meeting with the stewards just made me more angry. They thought, rather stupidly in my opinion, that my contact with Seb's Ferrari caused the initial puncture in Seb, which in result caused him to go slow and make contact with Charles. The only potential bit of good news was that Charles would also have a penalty for the next race for a dangerous overtake. We both received the five-place grid penalty.

With a huff, I sulked past him and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I wish I was joking. It's so stupid!" Anger was an understatement of how I was feeling, but I couldn't find the words to be able to express it without feeling the urge to cry. The tears that threatened to fall weren't sad ones. I had already been a little vulnerable in front of Kudzai immediately after the meeting so didn't fancy going through it again.

Max crouched down in front of me and took my hands in his. His calloused palms squeezed gently and rubbed over the back of mine in reassurance. "Even if you weren't my girlfriend, I'd think that you didn't deserve the penalty. And I'm not just saying this because I'm now leading the championship, either. I'm really sorry, schatje." He watched me carefully and tilted his head to the side. "You look like you want to cry."

I swallowed hard. His words made my eyes water and I clenched my jaw to try and stop it. "I don't." My voice cracked and the frown on my face deepened. "I really hate crying."

"C'mere." He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist. Because of how he was crouched, I rested my head on his and placed my arms over his shoulders. My heart was beating fast and I knew Max could hear it and most likely feel it. The moment I closed my eyes, a tear slipped out and I hated myself for it. I felt like I had cried too much in my life already and over much worse things, too, for me to be acting like this over a shitty race weekend and penalty.

"Why does Baku hate me so much?" I let out a defeated sigh and squeezed Max a little tighter.

"At least you're okay - that's the important thing. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt." Max's voice was low as he spoke and at a reduced volume to normal. "I was ready to jump out of my car if you needed me to."

"I just couldn't get my belt undone, that's all," I mumbled in reply. "I feel bad for Seb, though, because he's got a sprain on his ankle."

"He should still be able to race, no?"

"Yeah, but still. He's got three kids at home and I can imagine that gets more difficult when you have an injury."

Max hummed in agreement before we settled in a comfortable silence. I was enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, not wanting to pull away from the warmth. This weekend was something I wanted to forget, but a part of me knew that it would plague me for the rest of my career. It felt like a higher power didn't want me to finish a race here.

I don't know how long we just stayed there in an embrace before Max finally spoke up. His voice was so soft I barley didn't hear him. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I asked in confusion, reluctantly sitting back in order to look at Max's face. His eyes looked sad and his bottom lip was slightly out.