Pole Position - a Charles Leclerc love story

Chapter 3

"Hi, it's Charles, the guy who helped you find toilets in Spa. I was wondering if you'd like to go out for drinks?"

He reread his message a few times. It was no literary masterpiece, but it wasn't embarrassing either. Short, to the point. He'd be happy with a message like that. He'd be happy with any message if they came from her, he thought. He shook his head. He was starting to wonder if he'd romanticised her in his head. He was sure she was beautiful and sexy, but maybe his brain had made more of it than there really was. He decided to push those thoughts aside and hit send. He'd see what she was like when they'd go out for drinks. That is, if she says yes.

Charles was not a patient man. How could he be? He was a Formula 1 race car driver, for God's sake. His team would tell you he needed some more patience when it came to training, practicing and overtaking other drivers. He was working on it, but not right now. He'd already checked his phone five times to see if she'd responded already. He decided to put his phone away so he wouldn't be checking it constantly, when the screen lit up: text message from Marlo. He took a deep breath before opening her message.

"Ah, my knight in red suit! ;) I'd love to. Where and when do you want to meet up?"

A big, stupid grin appeared on his face. He knew she was joking, obviously, but he liked how playful she was. It made him feel safe to joke with her.

"I don't suppose you live in Spa?" He sent back right away. When the message went out, he realised he seemed way too eager. He also felt way too eager.

"I don't think anyone lives in Spa :). I live in Antwerp. Have you been there?", she answered.

He had to check his phone to figure out where Antwerp was and if he'd ever been there. He visited so many places in different countries, he wasn't exactly sure. He found he hadn't been there.

"I haven't! I have until Thursday before I have to leave for the next race. So whatever works for you, is fine by me. :)". He crossed his fingers, hoping she'd find the time to meet.

"Tomorrow? I know a cute cocktail bar", she answered right away.

"Great, just text me the address and time ;)". Charles threw his phone on the bed and let himself fall backwards on the bed too. He wanted to go outside and see some of the other drivers, but he was afraid he wouldn't get that stupid grin off his face. Maybe he could pretend his delighted mood was because he won the GP. That was part of it, of course, but winning races never made him as giddy as he was right now. He grunted, plopping a pillow on his face. He knew Pierre would see right through him.

An hour later Charles had finally found the courage to show himself to his colleagues, slightly confident he wouldn't look like a teenager in love. He wasn't in love, he thought, but it was ridiculous how this girl he had only seen for a few minutes occupied his mind. At least I realise it's ridiculous, he thought.

He was wearing a pair of grey joggers and a white t-shirt, some with Puma's underneath. He walked between the huge motorhomes, looking for Pierre's. He found Pierre in front of his luxurious trailer, sitting at a small table. He joined his childhood friend and plopped down on the other chair. Pierre looked up from his phone: "Belle victoire, mon ami.", he grinned while holding out his hand to Charles so he could shake it. Charles shook it and answered in French: "Merci, you drove well, too."

"Took you a while to come out of your motorhome," Pierre said. "Were you sleeping because you were soooo tired of your victory?", he said with an exaggerated deep voice and laughed. Charles shook his head. "No, I..." he trailed off. He was about to make up an excuse when he could feel the damn smile creep up his face again. It caught him off guard and he was distracted from what he was about to say because suddenly he was thinking about her again. Pierre started laughing. "Wow, who is she?", he chuckled surprised. If Charles had been drinking anything, he would've probably chocked on it. He still coughed, despite the lack of beverage. "It's been a while since I've seen that stupid grin on your face.", Pierre added. Charles combed his fingers through his hair, trying to find something to say, any excuse really, but Pierre just laughed louder.

The door of the next trailer over swung open. "What's so funny out here?!" Daniel Ricciardo exclaimed, fake-angry waving his fist. He stepped outside and made his way over to Pierre and Charles.

Charles quickly prayed Pierre wouldn't say anything, but he knew it was in vain.

"Charles is in looooveeee." Pierre teased, switching to English. Charles groaned. Daniel raised his eyebrows. "In love? You?" He was silent for a little while before bending over to give Charles, who was still seated, a hug. "My young friend, finally back in the game!", he exaggerated. Charles burst out laughing, the Australian accent always got him. "I'm not "in love"", he said, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. He felt defeated, he knew the teasing would not stop anytime soon. Pierre alone would bug him for hours, but now that Daniel had joined him, Charles didn't think he ever hear the end of this.

Pierre wiped away a tear that escaped from laughing so hard after seeing Daniel congratulating Charles with the embrace: "Okay, okay, we believe you..." Pierre said while catching his breath. "But who is she?"

Charles sighed and told them about the girl he had met and how he was seeing her tomorrow. They kept teasing him, but he knew they came from a good place. It was true, he hadn't been this excited about a girl for a long, long time. And although he was excited, he would be lying if he said it didn't also scare him.

When he went to bed in his trailer that night, Charles decided to be firm with himself. He had to stop his mind from making such a big thing out of little things. It was nothing like him, and he had to remind himself of that: she was just a girl. There were millions of them. Maybe this one was something else, and maybe she was nothing special. Maybe they'd have fun tomorrow and maybe he'd wish he had never texted her. Either way, he had to stop constantly thinking about Marlo, who he'd only seen for a few minutes and had a brief exchange of a handful of text messages with.

He needed to calm down. And calm down he did. He was pretty good at being at peace, since he needed to relax before every race. He knew how to breathe and how to keep his mind from racing, ironically enough. Before going to sleep he distracted himself by thinking about next week's race at Zandvoort. It worked and it made him forget about Marlo for a little while. He thought about Max' home race and he already knew everything and everyone would be orange. He groaned and before he closed his eyes, Charles decided he would never admit it to Max, but Dutch fans were something else. 

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A/N: Thank you all so much for reading <3. 

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Again, thank you for reading, it means the world to me. I know this part is a bit slow, but hey, we're going on a date in the next chapter ;).