Anti-hero ~ Max Verstappen

Last First Kiss

2011

Max's POV

My father and I had arrived in Brazil a couple of days ago so that I would not have distractions before the race.

What my father had not taken into account is that my distraction was going to follow me here, and that after this trip I wouldn't get her out of my head.

I really tried, I did, but what could they expect from a fourteen-year-old? I had started last year with international karting and I was damn good, I loved traveling even though I had my father following practically every step I took, and even if this was my second year in these categories I was winning, and I loved winning.

The first time I saw her I almost fell on my ass, and not figuratively because she was beautiful or anything like that, even though she was, but because she literally ran into me because she had the habit of running everywhere. My father, like the kind and pleasant human that he is, let the sarcasm be noted, went crazy because according to him, it was a technique to injure me. So from that point on, Avery Stroll was off limits.

But it seemed as if the more I avoided her, the more she crossed paths with me.

After six months of competing against her it seemed as if the universe wanted my father to kill me. She was in every hotel we stayed in, got on every podium I got on and was just so incredibly insistent on crossing paths with me.

Although perhaps, from a perspective of the future, it was not her who came across me but I who was looking for her everywhere.

"Remember, every race matters." I wasn't even in the fight for the title, this one had already been taken by Alex Albon, but my father couldn't conceive the idea of ​​racing for something that would not be winning.

And it may be that over the years I myself have picked up that same mentality, the highest step being the only goal. But that didn't make anything easy when I couldn't win. Because there are times when victory simply slips through my fingers, out of my control, with nothing to do to avoid it, just like that day.

"Every race matters" My father handed me my helmet and patted me on the back before walking over to make sure everything was okay with the kart.

I would start fifth, she would start third, perhaps her strongest point at that time was that they still treated her like a child, she was smaller than most of the boys she competed against, younger, probably weaker too. But she was so damn smart, always finding a way to overtake, she spent hours and hours behind the wheel, when it rained or most of the boys went to dinner she was still on the track. And since she always wore that innocent smile, they thought she was not a threat, that she would be an easy target. That mentality did not last long when they saw her crush everyone who got in her way.

The race started well, I didn't lose position in the first corner and I won one a few laps later but the first three were moving away from me. I managed to overtake the third when the worst started, the rain.

I wasn't a stranger to rain, having gotten used to it years ago at home, but that didn't take away the gut feeling that always appeared when I started to smell like wet earth. It didn't even last that long, barely fifteen minutes of rain but enough to fuck everything up.

I was trying to overtake the second but my vision was terrible because of the rain, I overtook him in one of the last corners but when I thought I had gotten rid of him he appeared out of nowhere, taking both of us to a puddle out of the race.

I was fine, just a little rattled after the crash and a little soaked too. The kart on the other hand had gotten soaked and the crash hadn't helped either, I knew I was in for a good scolding.