GREENE | CS55

11 - Confidence and Confusion

FEBRUARY 2020 | CIRCUIT de BARCELONA-CATALUNYA

"Bring the car in. That's 104 laps. Thanks Pierce."

Pierce let her breath out in a slow stream, steady. Consistent. Like she had tried to keep herself in the car the entirety of today, constantly reminding herself that it was just testing. This was about data, not racing. Don't start the season off with another fuck up. Don't fuck this up!

"No problem. Coming in."

It hadn't been a bad first day back for Pierce in her Haas. Romain had arrived for press duty in the morning as the two unveiled the VF-20 for the first time. After that, Pierce ducked into Haas hospitality until the garage had the car ready for her to stomp out on track.

The nerves made her heart flutter like it was her first day back at school. The feeling of being back in a race suit, hearing the tools in the garage spin nuts and bolts into their positions. Pressing her foot down on the pedal, releasing the clutch, and being pushed into the seat by the g-forces; it made her head rush and the hairs on her arms stand just thinking about it.

However, maybe that wasn't the only thing that had her excited to be back.

Her eyes searched the media pen around her, hoping to catch a brief glimpse of orange. Pierce quickly discerned that he wasn't here. A flash of brightness in her peripheral momentarily distracted her from her interview, until she realized it was Renault's new driver Ocon. Disappointment pitted in her stomach as Pierce carried on with her rehearsed response.

The same response that she'd give to the next person, and the person after that; that the car felt good and incited new hope in the team that this season would be better than next.

It was a much different response than she knew she could give her Team Principal back in hospitality.

"So, tell me, how does the car feel?"

Pierce pondered for a moment, humming to herself as she stared back at Gunther. Her unimpressive but also not unlike her placement of nineteenth on the grid with a fastest lap that was two seconds down from Hamilton at the top would argue the car was just as bad as it's black and gold counterpart last year.

But, and maybe this was wishful thinking, Pierce could have sworn that the car felt more planted. More responsive. The car stuck to the track when it needed to, with no large amount of understeer that she'd have to compensate with by taking corners odd and braking earlier than her driving style would want her to. It was a bold consideration to make after just 104 laps on a perfect day weather-wise, but truly, nothing could be worse than last years car.

It left a lot of room for improvement when the only way to go was up.

"I only spun once."

Gunther let out a laugh, raising his brows at his driver. "Turn 9, I saw. I held my breath, but you didn't hit the barrier!"

"I didn't hit the barrier!"

She smiled up at him as their hands met in a double high-five. Although the two were joking, that not hitting the barrier wasn't normally something to celebrate, Pierce felt good about the way the car felt on track today.

Gunther could feel the confidence radiating from his driver, whether she'd admit to it or not. He watched as she bantered on with the engineers, analyzing where the car could use some tinkering to suit the way she drove. Crunching the brake numbers, deciding what parts could change there to give Pierce what she needed to do better.

This year, she had to do better. Gunther had to make sure of it. People were watching; Jim was watching.

Pierce was thrilled she was able to squeeze by last year. And the year before.