Three Dumb Ideas | Formula 1 fanfiction

71: You did this to yourself

Maeve's point of view

I close the door behind me and he honks again.

'I'm here! Stop honking', I yell.

'Get in the car, we have to hurry', Verstappen says.

I step into his car. 'Drive'.

He pushes the gas and drives away.

'Okay, so today's the day. Ready?', I sigh nervously.

'Yes, are you?'

'I'm freaking nervous', I say.

'I can see that, you're biting your nails', he pats my fingers away. 'Stop that'.

I sigh.

'Where were you last night?', I ask.

'I had something to do', he clears his throat.

'Who's the lucky girl?', I ask.

He turns his head. 'How did you-'

'I figured that would be the only reason', I smile.

'It's someone I used to date, earlier. Met her in 2017, we just hook up if I'm in Silverstone. Last year she had a boyfriend and we both respected that, logically. But now she texted me if I was single so I went to her house', he explains. 'Her name is Sabré'.

'Sabré Cook?', I ask.

'Yeah, you know her?'.

'She spent one year at my high school, and stole my boyfriend', I laugh.

'Really?', he asks.

'Well, he wasn't really my boyfriend, and I later found out he slept with a lot of girls. I got an STD from that boy', I chuckle.

'Oh god, I better get tested', he jokes.

He turns up the radio, war of hearts starts playing.

'Oh my god, our song!', I smile.

'Our song?', he asks.

'This song always plays when we're together! This is a great song'.

I sing along and Max joins me.

I laugh as he messes up the lyrics.

'Don't mock me, Vettel'.

'I could never, Verstappen'.

We arrive at Cynthia's house and we knock on the door.

A redhead opens the door, she's very pretty.

'You must be Maeve and Max', she smiles.

'Hello Cynthia, we are indeed'.

'Well... let's finish this then'

She locks the door and walks with us to the car.

'You ready?', I ask.

'No, but I'm doing this for Matthew. I need revenge', she smirks.

'I get it'

'No honey, once you become a mother, then you'll get it. Sorry babe, but I have to do this for me', she says.

'Understood, no judgment here'.

I walk to the hotel room, number 291. Fuck.

I knock on the door and I expect the tall man to open, but a brunette opens the door.

'Hello, can I help you?', she asks.

'I'm sorry, who are you?', I ask nervously. Fuck, if he's not alone this plan is doomed.