"And if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know?"
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Maya Beaulieu, born and raised in Montreal, has heard the stories about Lance Stroll, the boy who grew up down the street of where she lived. All the reason to stay...
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October 24th, Denver, United States of America
Opening Twitter again was a mistake.
Luckily, Lance's photos have lessened, not every account is sharing pictures anymore. But there are new ones.
Again, it contains Lance and Natalia visibly having a good time. But the captions are different now. Some accounts are asking openly if it is real, because neither Lance or Natalia have either confirmed or denied the rumors.
Other accounts stubbornly keep congratulating both of them on their relationship.
I make another mistake, and visit the website showing pictures of Lance and Natalia last year, also during the Austin Grand Prix, but they also show pictures of Lance entering the hotel, just a few hours after Natalia arrived in the same hotel.
With a heavy sigh, I shut my phone.
"Maj-ia sad?" Emily asks as she sits down on the couch next to me. "How do I pronounce your name?" She immediately asks after.
"I am just a bit heartbroken over a guy, nothing to worry about." And I continue to teach her how to pronounce my name.
My phone rings, and Lance's name shows up as caller ID. I hesitate, my heart aching. I smile and my sister before grabbing my phone and walking away from her.
Do I pick up now?
I wait too long, and the message of a missed call shows up, within a second following his second try to reach me. The number of missed calls are too much, and he's never going to stop calling me if I don't tell him to stop.
I swipe right, connecting the call, but the tears have shut my throat from making any sound.
"Maya?" His voice is soft, low— barely above a whisper. "Maya, please, listen..."
"I can't," I manage to get over my lips. "I don't want to."
"Please, it is not—."
"Given your history, I should have known better."
"Maya..."
"Don't call me again."
I hang up and throw my phone on the bed.
And Lance being Lance, he doesn't listen, and my phone starts ringing again.
I sigh heavily, at this point I am considering swapping phone numbers, but I don't want to do that. I want Lance to respect my wish to leave me the hell alone.
"Everything okay?"
I turn around and see Theo in the door opening, he smiles warmly and gestures to my ringing phone, "Is that the guy?"
"Yeah, he keeps calling me. Even though I told him not to call me."
Theo walks to my bed, and grabs the phone, "Can I?"
