Driven For You - A Charles Leclerc Story

033 | Chapter Thirty One

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If avoiding people was an Olympic Sport, I would have been place somewhere around the top of the pack. And it's not like I was actively trying to avoid Charles at all costs, it just so happened that when he walked into a room, I walked out. Completely coincidental.

Besides, if I were actively removing myself from his presence at any given point, there would have to be a very good reason. For instance, (and this is completely off the top of my head), I could be avoiding him in hopes that not being in his presence would kill whatever swirling feelings lay rent free inside my entire body.

But I wasn't avoiding him on purpose. It was all just coincidental.

Even during the Singapore GP, Tommy had pulled me aside and said I was being really stupid if I thought my attempts to evade my teammate were, in any sense, subtle. He made a comment about how I was only making my 'crush' more obvious and how avoiding it was very immature. Needless to say, I wasn't happy with him, but I also knew he did have a good point.

So, upon the dawn of the Thursday in Japan, I did make the effort to go up and talk to Charles. It was a very stale chat with lingering silences of awkward tension, but I powered through for a good ten minutes before I made my getaway. Tommy sent me a mockingly proud look and placed a hand over his heart. I just flipped him off. It got my message across.

Lacroix had yet to show his face this weekend, but after the crash last week where Perez went into a wall after 'unidentifiable problems' with the car, where I had a sneaking suspicion he was behind it, I doubted he would show his face again this weekend. Call me psychic, call him predictable, but I just had a feeling he would be too busy going over his latest field test results. That's what normally happened I had noticed: Someone would crash, and Lacroix would be MIA the next race week.

At least I didn't have to worry about his cruel eyes watching over me like an eagle to its prey.

Still, it wasn't nice watching one of my fellow drivers go into the barrier and knowing that he couldn't have done anything about it. But I also couldn't do anything least my secret gets out. And I wasn't in the mood to let the world know who my father was.

But speaking of the man who left us, he did message me after my own crash two races ago, asking if I was okay, but I had left it on read. He didn't have the privilege to know whether I was okay or not.

Now with the day slowly turning over to Friday, I left my hotel decked out in my Ferrari gear and unwavering determination for the day. However, that willpower I had mustered up, came crashing down when Charles once again ambushed my ride and joined me in the car.

"Mind if I grab a ride with you?" He asked, but before I could decline he had already hoped into the passenger side of my rented Ferrari F40 and buckled up. "Thanks."

"Wha-? Ugh, by all means hop aboard." I replied sarcastically.

I started the car and drove out of the under-building parking garage of the hotel in complete silence. Even when I joined the busy roads of the country, not a word was spoken, we just exchanged awkward aruras.

Charles broke first, however "So..." He began but trailed off just as quickly.

"So?" I pushed, hoping he could start a conversation so the ride wouldn't be so unbearable.

"So, how's things?" He asked.

I looked at him briefly before returning my eyes to the road up ahead, "Things are fine. You?"