Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Belgium, Post-Race

SUMMER BREAK, HERE WE COME! - @JessicaBond57

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BELGIUM
AFTER THE RACE
JULY

Where the hell is he?

I shuffle past Red Bull mechanics, searching outside their hospitality unit for Max. He agreed to go with me to the airport - because we're taking his jet again - to go straight on our break. After faffing around with Liam and the group, we have a date and we've paid for our booking at the chalet, but Max wants me to see his place first.

I push past a larger person and as I hear him speak, panic hits me. I've just shoved aside Jos Verstappen. I turn with shock on my face, but I keep walking, right into Max. I feel his hands on my shoulders. I can hear him laughing and playing it off as me being typical Jessica.

But I can see that disgust on Jos' face.

"Sorry!" Sometimes, anxiety can be useful. A nervous smile has broken out on my face as the people-pleasing impulse takes over, trying to smooth this out. "I get all stuck in my head when I'm trying to get through a crowd."

"Dit is haar? De reden dat je de afgelopen vier weekenden je telefoon voor iedereen verborgen hield?" I don't know what he's saying, and I don't like his tone. He looks at me with a partially raised right brow, as if he's inspecting me and deems me to be inadequate. The way he spoke wasn't exactly nice. It held that same layer of disapproval. Like he was possibly trying to quietly insult me. Or he was openly doing it because he rightly thought I wouldn't understand him.

Max isn't speaking. I turn to him, one hand on his chest. It's a big show, I know. It's risky. We're around people. But I think I know what might be going on here. Jos doesn't like me, and Max and I have spent a lot of time together lately. It's the classic: I don't think this person is good enough for my child. It has to be. That look is the same one my dad gave my first boyfriend.

"We're gonna be late! Liam says he's sorted out the catering for the whole week, we just have to be there on time or we lose out on dinner." I'm lying out of my arse. Facing Max makes it easier to do, though. I can smile at him, raise my brows in a follow-my-lead gesture, and his father can't see that I'm talking a load of bollocks.

"Uhhh— right! Right." His chuckle is riddled with nerves as he lets his arms fall to his sides at last. "We should get moving!"

I turn around, seeing that expression of disgust hasn't gone away. Time to put on my best smile. "Sorry again! It's just Liam booked everything and I was late with our plane tickets and it's all chaos. I don't think we've met properly before? I don't really come over to the big boys' club that often: Hi! I'm Jessica."

My hand is out for a shake. He has to accept. I do my best to make my handshake firm, just as he does to judge me. I already know his name, and as he says it, I just smile like a silly little girl with air between her ears. The less threatening I seem, the more it all looks like it was my mistake and I accept it without having to be told, the more he might feel inclined to brush this little moment aside.

"Lovely to meet you, so sorry about nearly pushing you over." I didn't. Not by a long shot. But I'm going to continue to lay it on thick and make myself appear entirely passive. "We've got to get to the airport like... half an hour ago."

There's another twitch in his expression; the corner of his lips pull, to turn his expression from general disapproval to a sneer. I get it: he already has a view of me. I don't care. I've been nice. For Max's sake. I'm already pushing my luck by being so me. He's not the first person to have a dim view of me. He won't be the last.

"Let's go, c'mon!" I start pulling at Max's arm gently, to encourage him to just disengage from this. Whatever was said, whatever is going unsaid, we're not about to make it become a public spectacle.

I assume Max is saying goodbye to his father - I should really learn Dutch instead of working on French - before following me out of the paddock. I'm itching to ask him what his father said about me - because it had to be about me - but I don't want to put him in a position where he feels more uncomfortable. So I stay quiet, until we get to the car he's renting for now.

He's silent as well, all the way to the exit of the track grounds.

"I'm sorry about that." He finally says, eyes firmly on the road, hands tightly holding the wheel.

"Don't apologise to me. It's alright. I might not speak the same language as you two, but I know a disapproving dad stare when I see it." I might as well try to relieve the pressure. He won't have to translate, and he won't have to lie either. "My dad gave that same look to the guy I dated in school who turned out to be an absolutely useless boyfriend."

I watch his eyes, his body, for any sign of relief. He remains tense. Was more said during the weekend? Before this weekend? Did I screw up by trying to be nice? Shit, did my underhanded attempt to make it clear I wasn't intimidated make things worse?

"He's always been tough on me. He wants and expects the best."

He expects too much of you.

I don't say it. I let the thought exist, and let it go away. Honestly, I don't know what to say to help here. I only have instinct to go on. My hand reaches out to his thigh, resting there lightly. "What you want matters more, in my opinion. But I'm a biased source, so you probably shouldn't take my word for it."

He laughs quietly. It's a small victory. I look ahead to the road, but my eyes end up back on him again. I don't know why. I tilt my head as I watch him, watch the tension slowly leave his body, and strangely I feel it leave me too.

"I was thinking, since I'm not allowed to touch your setup, we could play some other games? I'll probably suck at a bunch of them, or we can play different games and just hang out?"

The way he smiles makes my shoulders drop; I hadn't realised I was still holding some tension in them. "We can do that."

-

Translation(s);

Dit is haar? De reden dat je de afgelopen vier weekenden je telefoon voor iedereen verborgen hield? - Is this her? The reason you hid your phone from everyone for the past four weekends?