Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Abu Dhabi, Pre-Race

I'm still crying as I type this. I cannot believe this is in my hands. - @JessicaBond57

@JessicaBond57 NO WAY. - @OscarPiastri

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ABU DHABI
22ND RACE WEEKEND OF THE SEASON
NOVEMBER

Lucy grins at me as I sit down at the light wooden table. It's my turn to get my Secret Santa gift. She starts recording, telling me the rules: I have to guess who the gift is from. I get two guesses, maybe three.

There's a plain brown envelope, A4 sized on the table. Next to it is a small-ish box, wrapped in green Christmas tree-patterned paper. I'm not sure where to start on this. After a few seconds, I decide to pick up the small box. It's light, very light. I gently shake it next to my ear, but no sound comes out.

"Hmm..." I try to find a way into the wrapping, but there's a fair bit of sellotape at the opposite ends. Lucy comes to my rescue, with a pair of scissors. She cuts a small flap for me so that I can get a finger in and tear into the wrapping. The box is white, about the size of my hands if I cupped them palms up together. With the wrapping aside, I gingerly get into the box, repressing a wince as my left shoulder argues with the small movement of my fingers trying to get the flap of the box open.

"Huh." The sound I'm making isn't disappointed. I'm confused. And curious.

The box contains a little plushie. A jaguar. Suspicion creeps in: my Secret Santa is not Mick. I've been wrong to suspect him. Is it Daniel? Was he trying to bait me?

"I get multiple guesses, right?"

Lucy nods, back behind the tripod.

"Hmm... I mean, this could be because har, har, I drive for Jaguar, but I don't think anyone on the grid would be that lazy— wait, scratch that. Charles would be. But I don't think it's him... Um... Daniel would do this, for a laugh."

"Nope!"

I pull my lips together, setting the plushie down as I go for the envelope. It's reinforced on one side. I have a brief moment where I wonder if it's Sebastian. Or Fernando. Maybe irony has struck in some way and it's Max?

The envelope contains a certificate. With my name. Confirmation of the adoption of a jaguar.

"It's Seb, isn't it?" I ask her, grinning at the other inclusions. There's a photo of the animal in question and information to track it through the charity's website. Lucy nods, and I pick up the plushie again. "This is pretty damn cool. I'm gonna go find him and say thanks!"

Or I would, if Mick didn't come over, holding a rather large box, covered in red wrapping paper. There's an almost childlike glee to his smile. He sets it down and then sits next to me, his legs jiggling as he tries to contain his palpable excitement.

"Open it!"

"Um..." I stare at him as I try to figure out if this was part of the plan. A glance at Lucy tells me it's not, but from behind the camera, she looks curious and excited at this twist to her day. She gestures at me to do as Mick says, and I guess I don't have a choice here. But at the very least, I do want to ask a clarifying question first. "Is this also from Seb?"

"No. It's from me. I was going to give it to you after the race tomorrow, but..." He hesitates, there's a flash of uncertainty that's quickly replaced by the resumption of his glee. "You should have it now."

I have to stand up because I'm still not allowed to bring my left arm above my chest yet. I start gently tearing into the paper, finding a brown cardboard box. With Mick's help, I get it open and—