Karting Days

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I woke up the next day exhausted. I had slept in until 10am because I was late going to bed, unable to stop thinking about our conversation on the rooftop.

I had just brushed my teeth, washed my face and combed my hair when I heard a knock on my door.

I knew it could only be one person.

"Tatum, look, you're the one who left me-" I froze mid sentence.

It in fact was not Tatum. Nope. Much worse.

Looking at me in the hallway with a huge smile of his face, was Charles. He was wearing a cream hoodie, black jeans with some Nike sneakers. He had a bandana on his head and was wearing glasses, and the glasses just made him look way more attractive. If that was even possible.

"Oh. Hey Charles. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for your surprise. Surprise." Was all he said.

I looked down at what I was wearing. An oversized tshirt and some running shorts... embarrassment shot through me.

"Oh uh. Okay... let me just get dressed." I said as I almost shut the door in his face. Then I realized that I couldn't leave him out in the hallway.

I opened the door back up.

"Wanna come in while I finish getting dressed?" I hesitantly asked.

He paused for a minute before answering.
"Uh yeah. Are you sure that's okay with you?"

He didn't want to cross any lines, and I was grateful for that.

"Im sure. If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have offered." I smirked as I quoted him from the first time we met.

He grinned as I held the door open for him and he walked in.

Luckily, there was a whole sitting area separate of my bedroom. So he went in there and made himself at home on the couch, pulling out his phone to entertain himself.

I threw on a pair of ripped sky blue jeans, a dark grey oversized linen button up that I half tucked in, and paired it with my white converse high tops. I left my hair down and in their natural waves, and threw on some mascara.

I walked into the sitting area where he had laid across the couch, scrolling on his phone.

"Okay, I think I'm ready. However, im not sure if I dressed appropriately. Since you won't tell me where we are going." I glared at him.

"You look great. Don't worry, I pinky promise we're going to have a lot of fun."

______________________________

He was right. This was so much fun.

We were currently racing on a local karting track, and we were the only ones here.

We just finished our third race, and he won all of them. Not surprisingly.

Of course I had googled him after I got home last night. I needed to find out all that I could about him. Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc. Born and raised in Monte Carlo. 3x F1 World Champion. And I was currently racing him on a karting track.

"I hope you know, I let you win." I told him. Before taking off my helmet, I pulled my phone out and got Charles to take a picture of me to remember the experience.

Chuckling, he replied, "Yeah, okay

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Chuckling, he replied, "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say."

"Seriously, that was so much fun. I can't believe you started karting when you were seven years old."

"Actually I was eight years- wait a second. Did you Google me?" He asked.

Dammit. I just got caught.

".....no.... It was a lucky guess..?" I gave him a fake smile.

"Oh you definitely googled me." He saw straight through my lie.

"Well. Okay. I kinda, sorta, googled you... But it didn't get me very far. All it told me was how many world titles you've won so far, when your birthday is... ya know. All of the superficial stuff. It didn't tell me anything about you." I stated. Which wasn't a lie. I truly didn't care about any of those things, I was just curious.

"Then it's only fair that I get to ask you questions about yourself now." He shrugged.

"Fine. Ask away." I started chewing the inside of my cheek. He was right, it was fair. But I hated talking about myself.

"Any restrictions?" He wanted to make sure he didn't cross any boundaries.

"No restrictions." For whatever reason, I really trusted him. And I wanted him to get to know me. I wanted him to have someone he could just be himself with.

"How many tattoos do you have? I saw the one on your shoulder at the club the other night."

"Wow. You're not wasting any time are you?" I laughed. He smirked at me in response.

"I have two." I lowered the neckline of my top to where he could see my left shoulder.

"This one says 'aut viam inveniam aut faciam'. It's Latin. It translates to 'I will either find a way or make one.' It was my first tattoo, I got it as soon as I got out of my parents house." He looked at it closely.

"It's beautiful." He murmured.

Shock filled me as I felt his finger faintly trace over the cursive writing.

"One day maybe I'll tell you the reason behind why I got it... but I'm not quite ready to talk about it." I explained. He only nodded his head in understanding.

Dropping his hand, I fixed the neckline of my shirt.

"This second one, is in my own handwriting." I showed him the inside of my ring finger on my right hand, revealing "MORE" on it. "I got it as a reminder- that I am more. More than my past. More than who my parents are. More than my last name. More than 'just a nurse'. It's my reminder, and it's also motivation. To be the best version of myself everyday."

And that was the truth. The raw, vulnerable truth that I have never told anyone else before. And here I was, telling this guy that I had just met earlier this week the deep meanings behind my tattoos.

I look up from my hand to find him not looking at my tattoo at all. But looking at me. And not just looking at me. Looking at me. Like he saw the real me.

Unable to break the silence, I just stared back at him.

His phone started ringing, causing us to break eye contact. He reaches into his pocket and answers his phone. He mouths to me "work" before walking away for some privacy. All I can hear is him speaking in- Italian, I think?

I pulled my phone out and opened Instagram, since I have been on it all day. And the first picture on my feed made freeze.

How could she?

Tatum had posted the club picture that she made me take on her feed. The caption said, "finally got @blakeriv out of the house for once ;) doesn't she look stunning?!" And she tagged Monte Carlo as the location.

I was going to hurt her.

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