𝘽𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍, max verstappen

chapter thirty-two.

the final few weeks of training at the red bull hq went by in a blur, camila was beginning to grow comfortable in the team, and her and max were able to remain civil.

well, by civil, that meant the two of them just didn't talk to each other. they were able to keep their distance, and maintain their complete focus coming to bahrain.

"camila! hey!" lando called out, grinning excitedly as he quickly made his way to greet his friend.

"lando! hi!" camila retuned the smile, the both of them wrapping their arms around each other in a tight embrace.

camila hadn't seen lando since the beginning of winter break — when she him and daniel all hung out, daniel and lando organising the gathering in an attempt to cheer camila up.

and by the radiant smile on camila's face, lando could tell she was doing much better — that made him happy.

"how's things at the enemy camp" lando joked, earning a playful eye-roll from camila.

"yeah — it's been good" she responded, while lando raised a curious brow.

"how uh... how are you and max?" he questioned, cautiously, as camila tried her best to show no change of expression on her face.

honesty honesty honesty. camila reminded herself constantly, it was one of the most important things sofia had told camila she needed to work on.

"it's been... interesting. still kind of awkward after everything i guess" camila shrugged, glancing around to make sure no microphones were picking up anything they were saying.

"max still has a fat crush on you, so i'm sure it's all good" lando grinned.

still has a what? camila erupted into a fit of coughs, her eyes bulging out of her head and her cheeks immediately going a dark shade of pink.

meanwhile, lando burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over as he clutched his stomach "oh my god, you should see your face right now" he squeaked, wiping the tears from his eyes as camila pushed his shoulder.

"lando! get back here please!" charlotte, his poor pr manager called out, as lando's face dropped, quickly saying goodbye to camila and sprinting away.

today was qualifying. practice went well yesterday, camila was comfortable with the car and managed to push out some excellent laps. the ferraris however, were also just as strong.

camila found herself praying she wouldn't have to spend much time next to charles on the podium.

he'd become a topic of discussion a few times during therapy sessions, and camila could almost 100% confirm that she wanted to be nowhere near charles.

over the winter break, camila had noticed charles becoming what was practically a self destructive playboy. almost every week, she'd find photos of him with a new girl at some club, drinking and partying must've become his new thing.

but he wasn't her concern, as long as she was standing at the top of podiums, what charles did now was none of her business — even if she had once considered them friends.

max tried his best to ignore camila's presence in the garage. his focus needed to be elsewhere. qualifying was about to begin, and he needed to be on pole today.

yet max found himself clenching his steering wheel with a force that startled him, hearing the sound of camila's voice and laughter from outside the car made a buzz fill his head.

once max was told he was able to come out of the pits, it felt as though he was finally being given permission to breathe, he wasn't sure he would last another minute of suffocation in the garage.