VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 32

[POV: Oscar Piastri]

"That was the most exhausting conversation of my life," Andi said, exasperated, "And I didn't even say two words!"

"How many times did he say it?" I asked, already having a number in my head as to how many times Andi's dad said 'lovely'.

"I counted 37, you?" She said, rubbing her temples as we walked towards the exit of the paddock.

"35. Should we settle on 36?"

"Sure. Although if we count how many times he said it mentally, it'd probably double," Andi remarked; she should've been as amused as me to hear the joke, but instead she stretched her arms by holding them out in front of her and bringing them up and around to the back. I laughed anyway.

"I've never been asked so many questions." I said, contrasting her lack of chance to speak. "And... why did he keep asking me if you were nice to me?"

Genuinely, it was constant.

'Was she really nice to you, Oscar?'

'Are you sure?'

'Really?'

I'm surprised she didn't snap back at him at all; I'd have expected more of a protest.

"He thinks I have a quick temper around other people." Andi replied quickly, probably since she'd been thinking it throughout her dad's countless questions.

"Pff— No! Not at all!" I joked with a grin. I then recoiled when she hit me on the arm, clutching the spot that was then sore and stopping us from walking.

"Is that sarcasm, Piastri?!" Andi retorted, raising an eyebrow, coming nearer to seem more threatening.

I looked at her with a face of both disbelief and bemusement, trying to communicate that she had just done exactly the thing that made her appear so hot-tempered.

She then took a step back and sighed, realizing she had inadvertently admitted to her temper. "Okay, maybe I do," she conceded, crossing her arms defensively.

"Well, anyway. I still think it's ridiculous that he only asked you questions," Andi continued, shifting the topic. We continued walking towards the exit.

"Didn't he ask you—"

"Asking me if I need a lift back to the hotel doesn't count, Oscar." Andi interrupted, taking the words out of my mouth. "Aren't dads supposed to be tougher on their daughter's boyfriends? Isn't he supposed to do a background check on you, figure you out, give you cold stares and then deliver the classic 'you'll never be good enough for my daughter' speech?"

Okay, I thought, quickly moving past the 'boyfriend' drop, though I couldn't help but straighten up and inhale, holding my breath for a second before shaking it off. "Maybe he knows," I said, clearly joking, trying to avoid the topic.

"Knows what?"

"That I'm not— really your boyfriend?" I suggested tentatively, checking her facial reaction.

Andi then gasped dramatically, placing her palms on her cheeks; she looked shocked, but not a real sort of shock, a playful and evidently exaggerated one. She turned towards me and she started to walk sideways, making sure I caught her theatrical performance. "Great heavens! He's onto us!" She put on a posh accent.

I was caught off guard momentarily; I hadn't expected her to be so expressive.

But then I copied her, placing my hands on my head. "What ever shall we do?!" I exclaimed, unable to resist joining in, continuing the charade.