GREENE | CS55

34 - Cruel and Unwavering

Pierce spent the entirety of her Monaco race weekend avoiding Carlos Sainz Jr. like she never before has avoided another living person in her whole life, nearly driving herself to the brink of insanity.

Before Thursday morning, Pierce had herself convinced it would be easy. Things could just go back to normal. Just like it was before brake failure sent her spiraling into the side of Carlos, sending the two of them spiraling into a blazing inferno off-track.

Her justification behind her avoidance changed by the hour. Selfishness, self-preservation, or just plain succumbing to the convenience of avoiding the wound and hoping it wouldn't grow and take over her entire being overnight. Was she being strong, the bigger person, or was she nothing more than a wimp? She couldn't decide. Even worse, Pierce couldn't give a damn if avoiding Carlos made her a wimp. 

It wasn't ideal, nor was it easy, but it got her through Media Day. The same mentality powered Pierce through the first two rounds of Free Practice in Monaco, through Quali the following day, and brought her to the track in one piece for the all-encompassing Sunday.

Every time Pierce had the luxury of entering the cockpit of her number 15 Haas, she melted into the custom-made seat and voluntarily strapped in to the one and only thing that could take her away from the mess her and Carlos had found themselves strapped in to. 

It wasn't wrong for her to want her space. After what happened with Carlos, their heated discussion outside of the club last weekend, she simply needed more time to sort through her thoughts. Thoughts that were, admittedly, at the bottom of her list of things to sort through this particular weekend.

It was actually, Pierce decided, where they would stay until she knew what Andretti had planned for her next year.

So Pierce drove as though her life depended on it, whether it was a Practice session or for points. Keeping up the bravado, smiling complacently when necessary, and ignoring any unwarranted comments from journalists about her position next year, her plans for next year, any statement, really, that ended in the words 'next year'.

If Pierce wasn't in the car, she was training. If she wasn't in either of those situations, Holden was briefing her on the data and different driving modes set by the engineers based on the data. Which corners caused the most strain on the brakes, when it was optimal to push versus letting the battery have a moment to charge up. Not once did Holden question her sudden motivation, or her obedience, though Pierce knew he wouldn't, whether he was curious about the new occurrence of evenings ordering room service with him, or not.

It wasn't Pierce's first choice. While she craved a moment alone in the bluster of it all, Pierce also realized that being alone meant having a quiet moment to ruminate. To let her thoughts stray to evenings with Carlos. To the scent of his shampoo, his haircare routine meticulously packed into travel-size bottles because he couldn't stand hotel shampoo and conditioner. The morning after they'd spent the night tangled in each other when Carlos joined her in the shower, finishing her off before carefully soothing her hair into a lathered crown of bubbles.

If she inhaled now, she swore the scent lingered, weeks later.

There's the insanity. 

Pierce shook herself out of it, stifling the self-derogatory remark running through her own mind and bringing herself back to her current reality. The one that lacked any ounce of Carlos, the image of him melting back into the disappointing image of her manager. 

Angrily, she flicked the silken strand of freshly washed hair from her face so quickly, Holden startled. Pierce grumbled, flipping the jolted set of notes back to the page she was on before tying her hair back into a poor excuse for a bun.