SO AMERICAN | max verstappen

thirtyfour.

Things were starting to really feel normal again.

I'd only been back on the circuit for just about a week now, but things were changing quickly. I no longer felt like I was walking on egg shells while I was there.

I could coexist with my exboyfriend and be fine.

We still hadn't talked at all, but I didn't feel like I was going to burst into tears or die every time I saw him now. I would say that's growth.

A plan had even been made for Lili to spend the day with me and Ella tomorrow during FP1 and FP2. I might've shed a tear or two when Charles told me the plan. Apparently, Lili had been begging for time with me ever since I told her to ask her Dad.

"How's our almost 22 year old?" Lando playfully kissing the top of my head brought my attention back to the conversation at hand.

We were all slowly showing up for what they deemed my 'birthday dinner.' Today's Thursday and my birthday isn't until Tuesday of next week, but Ella and I are flying back to America after the grand prix on Sunday – taking a red eye – because we always spend Labor Day with our families at the beach house. It became a tradition when I was 8 or 9, I can't remember. Our families decided that since Labor Day and my birthday usually ended up being the same weekend, that we should make a holiday out of it. So here we are over 10 years later and still doing it.

I was hoping to bring him this year, the thought had crossed my mind a while back, but obviously it isn't going to happen this time around.

Maybe next year?

I smiled at the Brit as him and Ella took the final two seats at the table. Charles and Charlotte had shown up first, followed by me and Arthur, and then Ella and Lando rounded out the crew. I think we planned to meet up with some other drivers for some drinks later... I'm not sure.

"Well, considering my birthday is my second favorite day of the year, I'd say I'm in a pretty good mood." I laughed, taking a sip of the drink I had asked the waiter to surprise me with.

I earned a table wide laugh for that.

Charlotte giggled, taking a sip of her own drink. "What's your favorite day of the year then?"

"Christmas, obviously."

Another round of laughter.

Conversation carried on throughout our meals, the food being some of the best I've ever had. Why did I not know that I'd like the food in the Netherlands?

I'm glad I have my little crew around me, rounding out my 21st year of life. I always  liked to spend this time with the people I loved, the first week or so of September always being my favorite. For some reason, the anticipation leading up to my birthday always made for the best days.

"I think you should hear him out." Charles blurted out of nowhere.

I dropped my fork, it clinking against my plate and earning a few stares. When I glanced around the table I was the only one who looked shocked. We all knew who the 'him' was he was talking about. Why was no one else protesting?

"I don't think–"

"Ri, trust me." Charles reached over to hold my hand. "I was beyond pissed at him for hurting you... but then he made us listen to what he had to say and it's not what you think. Just hear him and make your decision after."

Us.

Had they all let him explain himself?

I looked around the table, hopeful to have at least one of my friends advocate for me, but they were all muttering about how they agreed with Charles. When the fuck did this all happen? Were they conspiring with him behind my back?