"You what?" Charles asks in disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows at me. "Emilie, I told you no. No means no. No doesn't mean do whatever you want anyway. I am not taking another child all the way to America. You need to tell her that she can't come." He adds, clearly angered about this situation.
"But I told her she can." I mutter, looking down at the floor and sighing slightly. He sighs and shakes his head.
"And I told you no." He states, holding his arms out to the side. "Tell her that she can't come anymore." He adds.
"Fine." I sigh, pulling my phone out of my pocket and texting her.
Me :
'I'm sorry, Charles said that
you can't come to the race
anymore.'
Olivia :
'Oh, that's ok. I'll see you
on Tuesday then. Have fun.'
"Done." I state, sighing and putting my phone into my pocket.
"Thank you." He sighs, sitting down in the sofa and taking a breath of relief. "Fucking hell. You can't just invite people to races." He adds, staring at me.
"Well I've told her she can't come anymore, so stop complaining about it." I state, walking out of the living room and upstairs. Charles put my door back on at the weekend because apparently he was proud of how well I raced.
"Put the clothes which you want to take to Miami, in my room." He calls after me. I hum in response and walk into my bedroom, closing my bedroom door behind me. We're leaving later tonight. A few hours later, Charles opens my bedroom door.
"Come on, put your shoes on." He says, carrying the suitcase downstairs and taking it out to the car, putting it in the boot. I groan and stand up, slowly walking downstairs before sliding my shoes on my feet and following him out to the car.
"Is it a sprint weekend?" I ask, opening the car door and getting in. He sets the alarm in the house and locks the front door behind him, getting in the drivers seat beside me.
"Mhm." He hums in response, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway.
"I hate sprint weekends. They're so pointless. It just ruins the race weekend." I state, leaning my head against the seat and sighing.
"When I think about it, same. The race weekend is supposed to be fp1, fp2, fp3, quali, race. Not fp1, sprint quali, sprint, quali, race." He says, driving towards the airport. I'm so tired I swear to god. I just want to go to sleep.
"Yeah." I agree, closing my eyes briefly and yawning.
"Stay awake. When we get on the plane, you can go to sleep. It's a 6 hour flight." He says, glancing at me while driving down the road. It's about 6pm right now, so the streets are beginning to get busy as the clubs and casinos start to open.
"I'm tired though." I whine, slouching in the seat slightly so I'm more comfortable.
"I'll put the air con on if you keep falling asleep, and I'll roll the windows down." He says, smiling at me as we stop at some traffic lights. I groan and he laughs quietly. "Don't fall asleep then." He adds.
"I'll try not to." I sigh, leaning my elbow on the inside of the car door and resting my head on my hand, closing my eyes.
"Em." He says, a small laugh leaving his mouth as he squeezes my knee gently. I hum while pushing his hand away and moving my leg towards the other side of the seat.
"Hey." I whine as he rolls down the windows, slowly lifting my head up and glaring at him. The cool breeze and loud noise of engines prevents me from trying to sleep. He turns the air con on, full blast. It's noisy as well as cold. "I'll freeze to death if you keep that on." I add, furrowing my eyebrows at him.
YOU ARE READING
Racing is life
Fanfiction"I was on pole position, and my best friend crashed into me. I couldn't finish the race, and my dad was so angry. I was upset, but he was really, really upset, and he left me at the track. I had to go to my uncle's house to sleep that night." ******...
