The Team // A Formula One AU

George

"Eugh..." Tom gags as he passes me outside the garage, wincing at my Mercedes shirt.

"At least it's not an offensive colour like yours," I retort.

"Ferrari isn't offensive, it's a very respectable brand," he looks around and smiles, raising his voice so everyone can hear him. "Today will be our first driving session, but I want to do it in smaller teams so we can all make the most of the track. Let's use it to see what we can do, get to know the karts and the track, see what works well and where we can all improve. Remember this is a team so no crashing into each other or unnecessary blocking-"

"Can I go first?"

"No, me!"

"Lads, quiet! Phil can split you into teams and coordinate a warmup, then I'll call the teams to drive at random, okay?"

"I hate warmups..." Someone next to me mutters.

"We need to though, in this weather," his tanned friend replies. I guess they're from warm places, I'm used to these damp mornings. Everyone seems a bit nervous and my own heart is beating quickly too, but I'm pretty sure we all have talent and nobody will be getting judged on the first day. For now, at least, we should all get along. I don't know if the same will be true when we're racing for points in a couple of weeks' time.

Phil makes us do some rigorous stretches I hope we won't be repeating every day, but it's overcast with likelihood of drizzle and I'm sort of warmer by the time we finish. He splits us into groups and I'm put with Lando, the Australian guy and two others I don't know yet. I'm terrible with names, but I know Lando because everyone knows Lando. It's easy to know people when you're Lando.

"So where are you from?" I ask the only one I haven't met before. Embarrassingly, I share a room with all the others.

"I'm German," he replies, "my name's Nico."

"I'm German too, I'm Mick."

"Awesome!"

"And my name's Daniel, by the way."

"George," We shake hands and I try to make a mental note of everyone's names and faces. Mick, Nico, Daniel.

"I'm Lando!" Lando yells. Phil glares over like we're burning down his house but luckily Tom calls us over and we waste no time in getting into the garage. The others groan behind us as Phil announces laps of the field.

The smell of the oil is my favourite perfume. The garage is bigger than it looks and continues behind a plastic curtain, but in this room there's a kart for each of us and a little area with chairs and a big whiteboard where I guess Tom will talk tactics. Lando runs to the first kart he sees and I make an effort to stay calm but really all I want to do is climb inside one. Nico already has his helmet on, and even Mick can't hide his excitement, bending down to inspect the engine and twisting the steering wheel as far as it'll go.

"These are the type of karts we'll be training with, they should be very similar to what we'll find across the pond," Tom explains, walking to one of the karts and beckoning us over. He gives us a quick tour of the systems and how to turn them on and off then tells us to change into our race suits. Seeing as Nico arrived fully dressed he hops into a kart and speeds out onto the track. The rest of us grapple with our clothes and balaclavas until Tom gives us the all clear to follow him.

"I won't be timing you this time, just try and get used to everything."

Nothing compares to trying out a new race car. I take a moment to adjust the seat for my height, then graciously allow Lando to speed out ahead of me but race out close behind. Tom shouts something after me but I don't hear it over the engine and the blood in my ears.