"Sit there, don't move, don't speak to anyone." Charles states calmly, too calm for my liking. Max just screamed at me for hitting his dad, and Charles kept quiet throughout the whole thing. He does look like he could kill someone though, and that will probably be me if I argue with him.
"I'm sorry." I apologise, looking down at the ground and sighing slightly.
"That's speaking." He states, sitting down on his chair in front of his computer and logging in. I roll my eyes and sigh again. "If you keep rolling those eyes, I'll carve them out of your head." He adds, glancing over at me and giving me a disapproving look.
"That's mean." I mutter, looking down at the floor and crossing my arms over my stomach. I hate the way my stomach looks, and if I cross my arms like this, no one can see my forearms.
"You're still speaking." He says, staring at me. Carlos had to go to an interview so he isn't here for me to talk to, which is sad. Max went back to the RedBull garage to talk to his dad about what happened.
"You're speaking to me." I groan, throwing my head back and holding my arms out to the side in disbelief.
"Emilie, stop." He states, raising his eyebrows at me. I shake my head and let out a slight laugh, standing up off the chair and starting to walk out of the garage. "Where are you going? Sit back down." He adds, standing up after me.
"No. Like Max's dad said, you're not my dad. So you can't tell me what to do." I state, continuing to walk out of the garage.
"If I'm not your dad, then I won't take you to the karting race next weekend. And I won't sort out the shit you're going through at school, and I won't protect you from the dangers of the world. Is that what you want?" He says, following me out of the garage.
"I want you to stop acting like you're in charge of me. It's annoying. I'm almost fourteen, let me do what I want." I argue, raising my voice as I speak.
"I let you do what you want most of the time. This is different. You hit Max's dad. You're lucky he didn't give you a slap back. I would have." He states, grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.
"He deserved it." I say, pulling my arm out of his grip. He shakes his head and looks down at the floor while laughing slightly in disbelief.
"Sit back down, Emilie. I won't ask you again before you go and sit in my drivers room for the rest of the day." He says, pointing towards the garage.
"I'm not sitting down on a chair in the middle of the garage and staying silent. That's ridiculous." I state, furrowing my eyebrows at him.
"If you think that's ridiculous, you can sit in my drivers room. Come on." He says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him. I try to drag my heels to stop him, but he easily over powers me. "Stop it." He adds firmly, pointing his finger at me and stopping in his tracks.
He bends down slightly and lifts me up with his arm across the back of my thighs, putting me over his shoulder. I grab the back of his tshirt to stop myself slipping.
"Get off!" I shout at him, kicking my legs slightly and thumping my fist on his back.
"Emilie, stop it." He almost shouts, grabbing both of my wrists in one hand and holding them in a tight grip. He carries me through the garage, earning multiple weird looks from all the mechanics and engineers.
"Get off then!" I shout, trying to grab his shirt again to support myself. I pull my hands out of his hold and grip his top, my hand slipping as he continues to walk towards his drivers room.
"Stop shouting at me." He says firmly, walking into his drivers room and placing me down on the floor. I stay stood up and look at him with anger in my eyes.
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." ******...
