FORMULA LOVE

Mental face palm

2 days before the race, great!

I groan as my alarm set for 6:30am rings in my ears. I don't even try to look up to find the alarm clock. I simply just smash it with my hands to get it to shut up. The ringing noise finally stopped and I smiled to myself. That clock really does give me so much trauma from when I was at school - nearly 6 years ago. Trauma doesn't have a time limit.

I sit myself up, propping myself up against the mattress staring into the abyss of my room. Well not completely, it was July time and it was starting to get light outside. I just managed to make out silhouettes of tables and wardrobes in my room. My blinds on the window onlooking the row of houses opposite me were still up. I must've not closed them yesterday.

Although the waking up part is hard I really do love just watching the sky in the morning. As it turns from its pitch black state to a yellowy - red colour and then to blue. That's it's good days though, during the winter you see nothing but grey in the mornings.

My phone sounds from my nightstand, I don't spare a minute as I pick it up and look at the top notification on my screen.

Coach: meet me at the gym in 30

I roll my eyes, I really could do without this today. I train 4 times a week already. I eat everything I'm supposed to... mostly. And I'm always keeping active. Nevertheless, I pull the covers off of me and thank my lucky stars that it's warm this morning and not freezing cold. I sprint to my draw taking out my gym clothes, which consisted of grey shorts and a white Nike top.

I then catch myself staring into the mirror wide eyed for a good while. I'm not looking at my body, I'm looking at my arm. There were vibrant finger marks laid there, imprinted on my left arm just below my shoulder on the inside. There was 4 nail marks deeply embedded into my skin, the skin around it had turned to a purple-like state.

My first instinct was; fuck how do I hide this.

I went back and forth in my mind before turning back to my sports draw and pulling out a white -long sleeved top. This'll do I thought to myself.

It'll go by tomorrow, it's been here for a couple days already.

All night when we got home he had apologised to me countlessly. I knew that he knew it was wrong and he isn't bad at all. He just gets angry and impulsive sometimes. Yes, he may raise his voice at me or grab me but he'd never do it intentionally. Charles just wound him up, it was half my fault though so I guess I deserved it.

I checked myself in the mirror just incase there was anything else that was on my body that shouldn't be there.

Nope, nothing.

I quickly grabbed my phone and exited my bedroom. I march downstairs to the door and grab my car keys. Within seconds I got into my Bentley parked outside and hop in, quickly starting the loud engine. I wince at the noise, hoping no one heard it.

Yeah,  Sadie no one definitely heard that.

                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Give me one more Sadie!" Coach shouts in his french accent. Clapping as if that would motivate me even more to go once more.

With all my might I grab the bar underneath me, as I squat I attempt to pick the bar up. I hear him shout "yes" a thousand times as I managed to lift it before telling me to drop the bar back down. I comply and fall onto the floor, on my back, in a pool of sweat. I had no idea what the weight of that was but whatever it is, it's definitely not what I've lifted for the past year or so.

"You know Sadie you can take your jumper off, you know." He laughs at me, I was sweating in this and he knew it. But I can't take it off and he can't know that. Or why.

"Nope I'm good Coach." I say as I jump to my feet dusting myself off and slicking back my hair with my own sweat. I gaze into the mirror behind him.

Wow I look like a beetroot!

He pulls me out of my thought, "alright then good luck for Sunday Brando! You'll smash it."

I wave bye to him before grabbing my stuff and walking to the exit of the gym. As soon as I'm outside and no one seems to be around I quickly slip off my jumper revealing my white sports bra, I take in a big gulp of air. I'd been holding in how much I'd been dying for the last 3 hours of my life.

Just as I thought i'd made it to my car without anyone seeing my arm or me for that matter I was incredibly wrong...

Lando was walking right towards me, looking down at his phone. Luckily I don't think he'd seen me yet so I do the smartest thing I'd ever thought of. I slowly retreat a couple steps before side stepping quickly but on my tip toes.

The second I put my fucking head to the side to check how far away the car is I look back and his eyes meet mine.

"Fuck sake" I mutter quietly to myself and hoping he hadn't just heard. Luckily he hadn't as he starts running smoothly towards me with a big grin on his face.

"Hey Sayd, ain't seen you in ages."

Now I know you lot are gonna hate me for this, and if I didn't have a mark on my arm to hide right now I'd completely be up for a hug right now. So as his arms wrap around me my right hand sticks firmly to my left upper arm, making sure I cover it, not hugging him back. He pulls away after a second or two as he realises I wasn't hugging him back.

A pang of guilt rushes through me. Damn I feel really bad.

His smile faltered a bit, it was no longer stretched to his eyes. More like a small smile now.

Now, the fucking idiot I was, felt so bad that I decided to comfort him...

With my right hand.

Why am I an idiot you may ask? My right hand was covering the mark on my arm. I mentally fist palm myself, I should've thought about this first. I play it off hoping he doesn't see as I rub his arm gently.

Has he been working out? Wowzers.

I think I've got away with it. I'm just about to retrieve my hand and-

Oh shit he's clocked it.

His eyes fall from mine to my arm. My injured arm. I don't think at first he registered it, he was looking at the wrong spot, I felt his eyes travelling up before becoming fixed on something. And right from that point I knew full well that he now knew.

I slap my hand back on my arm like he hadn't just stared at the nail marks on my arm.

His expression suddenly changes to concern.

"Say-" He starts, sounding worried.

"Gotta run see you Sunday!" I say to him as I run away. Sadie you are so stupid and you probably look stupid right now too. I mentally face palm myself again for the 4000th time as I swing open the car door and turning on the ignition before speeding off out of the car park.

I can't help myself but glance back at Lando in the front mirror. He was stood there, like he was paralysed, fixated on my speeding-away car. I couldn't tell his expression but I can guarantee it wasn't a happy one. He'd seen it and he'd probably realised those aren't my hand marks.

Like come on do you really think my fingers are that fat, considering how far the nails are spread out?

I quickly look back down paying attention to the road ahead again, before going back home to "rest and heal" for the race in 48 hours.

Where I'd be seeing Lando again.