Full Throttle

Date Night

It was Friday night, and I was standing in front of the full-sized mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles on my red dress. I'd pinned half of my hair up and had put in the effort to put on makeup. Butterflies did somersaults in my stomach as I slipped on my heels and slung the strap of my small bag over my shoulder. I was meeting Julien at the restaurant; he'd sent me directions to it. I closed my door behind me and made my way down to the lobby, where, unfortunately for me, I ran into Lando, Carlos, and Max. I froze, my eyes wide as they looked at me.
"Where the fuck are you off to?" Max questioned.
"Girls' night out," I lied effortlessly.
"Right," Carlos said. "Have fun! Don't get too drunk."
"Oh, I won't don't worry. Seeya!"
I breathed a sigh of relief when I got out of the building, walking briskly in the direction I'd been told the restaurant was in. Although I hadn't told Katie that I was on a date, I'd her know where I was going to be, and told her that if I hadn't texted her and told her that I was leaving by 11.30pm, to go down to reception and asked if I'd checked back in. I'd also shared my location with her, just to be safe. I arrived at the restaurant.
"Good evening," the host said with a smile. "What is your table name, please?"
"Uh, Garcia."
"Excellent. Follow me, please." He led me to a table next to a window where Julien was already seated. I sat down and the host handed me a menu before leaving.
"Bonjour, monsieur," I smiled.
"Bonjour, mademoiselle. You look beautiful."
"Thank you. You're looking very smart yourself."
"Merci. Would you like to order some wine?"
"I'm not drinking any alcohol at the moment, sorry. You can order some if you want to."
"Ah, if you aren't drinking, neither shall I. I have to be relatively early tomorrow morning anyway, so you are being a good influence," he chuckled. We ordered our food and drinks and started chatting.
"Am I okay to ask you about your early life? Karting as well?"
"Yes, you are okay to ask that. Um, I was born in Queen Mary hospital on February the 20th on the year 2000. My mum's name was Diana Osbourne, my dad's name is Simon Osbourne. I was one month premature, and I am told that Dylan didn't leave my side whenever dad took him to visit my mum and me. I was very close to my brother, and when he found out that I was being bullied in primary school, uh, that would be elementary school, he took it upon himself to threaten the boys that were bullying me, which got him into a lot of trouble with my parents. My brother started karting when he was 7, and I begged my dad to let me come and watch him, apparently, I threw a tantrum until he took me. I was 5 when I first saw a proper kart, and from then on, I went to every single one of my brother's races. Dad surprised me on the weekend after my 7th birthday by buying me my own kart. We weren't rich by any stretch of the imagination. I mean, mum had a good job that paid well, but dad had to work two jobs to keep my brother and I karting. From then on, it was race after practice after race after practice, talking to sponsors, learning how to maintain my kart and learning the mechanics of everything. Mum was diagnosed with leukaemia when I was 11. It made things a lot more difficult. My brother and I had to learn how to cook and clean and look after ourselves whilst dad was at one of his jobs or with mum at the hospital. She started getting worse just after New Year's in 2013, and she was admitted to hospital full-time. My brother was doing well in his rookie season of F3, and it was getting to November when she took a turn for the worst. She died three days later, and Dylan quit racing at the end of the season. I moved up from karts to Formula Four then, spending one year there before moving up to Formula 3 at 14. I did three seasons there and then was moved up to Formula Two, where I raced for two seasons. I started learning Italian and Spanish when I was little because my mother loved languages and wanted to teach me, so I'm best at those languages. I started learning French in Secondary School. School, with all of my races, was difficult. I had exams to study for and it was hard to do that when I was always training or away at races. I didn't have much of a social life, apart from getting drunk in a few fields with my friends. During this time, Dylan passed his driving test and started earning quite a bit of money by being a chauffeur for street racers. He saved up and got his own car, modifying it and getting into street racing when he was 19, when I was 16. My dad wasn't happy about it, but he couldn't do anything to stop him. Dylan tried to go to all of my races, and I tried to go to all of his. I bought my first car when I was 18, actually, I still have my first car, I haven't bought a new one. Then, late in my second Formula Two season, he crashed, and he died. I raced that weekend with the persuasion of my dad, and the night after the last race, I got a call from Helmut Marko, I was in the Red Bull Junior program at that time, and I was told that they wanted me to race for Toro Rosso this season. And here I am," I ended with a smile, sipping my lemonade. Our food came out. I'd ordered chilli crab, one of the traditional dishes of Singapore, and Julien had ordered Bak Kut Teh, a pork rib soup. Both dishes smelled amazing, and I tucked into mine straight away.
"Tell me about your childhood then," I said to the blonde man sitting opposite me.
"Well, I was born in Norway but my mother was young and so I was adopted by my parents and raised in Monaco. My mother's name is Andrea Garcia and my father's is Phillipe Garcia. I was raised speaking French and Italian, and I started learning English when I was around 10 years old. I had everything I ever wanted as a child, my parents were supportive of everything I did. They wanted me to get a well-rounded education and so they sent me to St. Edward's Boarding School for Boys. It was a real culture shock. I now had to follow rules and there was disciplinary action for if we did something wrong. I had to learn how to fold my own clothes and do my own laundry and there was no longer somebody waiting on my every need. I had to adapt very quickly, and I wouldn't have done so if my dorm master, one of the older students in the upper fifth, didn't give me a proper telling off for acting like a spoiled brat. Another thing was the language. It was very different to what I had learnt in terms of slang and how fast everybody spoke, but I soon got the hang of it. As I went through the years, I became more relaxed. I, too, got drunk in fields with friends," he chuckled, "and had to try and dodge the house master the next morning. I had a very privileged upbringing, and it has ultimately helped me do what I have done. I've travelled to war-torn countries in Africa and photographed the underfunded neighbourhoods of America. I've loved seeing the world, I think that it is a very scary but beautiful place."

"I enjoyed tonight," I smiled as we stopped outside my hotel.
"I very much enjoyed it as well," he beamed, pausing for a second. "Would you perhaps want to go on a second date?"
"I would like that very much."
"Brilliant! Well, I hope you sleep well, and I shall text you later. May I kiss your cheek?"
I nodded, a pink twinge falling lightly over my face. He leant forwards, gently tilting my chin upwards using his thumb and forefinger, and kissed me tenderly on my right cheek.
"Good luck tomorrow," he whispered in my ear before pulling away and giving me a wink. He crossed the street, leaving me standing in place.
"Jessica!" A hushed shout from my left made me jump. I turned and saw Alex, Lando, and Carlos staring at me as if they were a teacher who'd just been insulted by one of their students.
"What the hell are you guys doing here?" I scolded.
"What the hell was he doing here?" Lando scolded me back.
"You weren't on a girls' night out, were you? You were on a date!" Carlos cried out excitedly.
"You had better tell us who that guy was," Alex said. "And how you met him."
"I just want to go to bed," I said, pushing past them to get into the hotel.
"Nuh-uh, young lady," Carlos stepped in front of me. "You need to tell us who he is. Take a seat." He gestured to the area that I assumed they were sitting at before. I huffed and sat down on one of the chairs.
"Let's start simple," Alex said. "What's his name and where does he come from?"
"His name is Julien Phillipe Garcia, and he is from Monaco. I met him on the flight over here, he was sat next to me. We got talking on the plane and he asked me if I wanted to go on a date with him. We spent probably eight hours talking to each other, and he seemed genuine, so I said yes. He's a freelance photographer, doesn't like newspapers, and know that there will be a lawsuit if my phone number gets leaked and he's the one behind it. He took me out to a restaurant not too far from here, and we talked. He asked me on a second date, I said yes. Anything else that you want to know?"
"Is he only going out with you for the money?" Lando asked.
"We aren't 'going out', he took me on a date, that's all. But, don't think so. His parents are richer than me, and he insisted that he pay for the entire meal at the restaurant; and it was very expensive. He also accepts that I won't talk about my life in F1, and he doesn't push for any answers."
"Do you like him?" Carlos asked.
"I don't know. He seems nice, but I think I'd have to go on a few more dates with him to be sure."
"It seemed like you liked him by how red your face was after he kissed you on the cheek," Alex laughed.
"Shut up," I scowled, feeling my face heat up, which only caused more laughter from them.
"I'm going to bed," I grumbled, standing up. "Goodnight, dickheads."
"Goodnight, Jessie."

I wiped the vomit from my mouth and flushed the toilet, wincing at my stomach that was still in spasm from heaving up my guts. Singapore really was taking a toll on my body. I'd qualified P14, and it had taken it out of me completely. The door swung open.
"Heya, honey. Are you okay?" Katie asked, rubbing my lower back as I was bent over, trying to take control of my breathing.
"I'm okay," I breathed, standing up straight. "It's just a bit hotter than what I'm used to."
"Oh, God, tell me about it. I've gone through half a can of deodorant so far."
"When are the post-Quali interviews?"
"You have a good long while yet," the woman said, checking her watch.
"Cool. I'm going to go and grab my phone and get something from the cafeteria. Care to join me?"
"Of course."
I retrieved my phone from my driver's room, and we went and sat in the air-conditioned area. I sipped on my freshly made smoothie, whilst Katie enjoyed an iced coffee. My phone buzzed and I checked the screen, smiling when I saw Julien's name on my screen.
"Ooooh, who are you texting to make you smile like a schoolgirl?" Katie giggled.
"Oh, shush."
"I bet it's that 'Julien' guy. Am I right?"
I looked over my phone at her.
"I'm right," she laughed.
"Let me text him back, for God's sake!"
Julien: Hey, well done for today.
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Jessie: Heya, thanks. I could have done better, though.
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Julien: It's tomorrow that counts, bellissima.
Julien: What time do you have to be at the track tomorrow?
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Jessie: Not until 3pm, why?
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Julien: I haven't been able to get you out of my head, would you like to have lunch with me? Perhaps, if you'd let me, I could do a photoshoot of you. I wouldn't post any of the pictures that I take of you without your permission, but you could put some on your Instagram.
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Jessie: I would love to.
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Julien: Perfect, I will pick you up at your hotel at 12, if that's alright?
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Jessie: Sounds good!
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Julien: Great! What are you up to at the moment, carissima?
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Jessie: Just about to run to media interviews, then I have debriefings.
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Julien: Ah, I see. I shall talk to you later, now that you are busy. If I don't text you tonight, I hope you have a good sleep and have sweet dreams.
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Jessie: Goodnight, see you tomorrow.
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Julien: See you tomorrow.
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