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chapter twelve. i feel i'm falling in love with all my heart.
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Willa stares at the journal — for a second, it's like she's a seventeen year old girl with a crush on a stupid boy, a stupid boy who would probably ruin her life.
A stupid boy.
But he was not just any stupid boy — he was Charles fucking Leclerc. A boy who makes Willa look at the world differently.
Where Levi made her life bleak and miserable — he brightens it, where she saw grey and white with Levi, she sees reds and yellows and blues with Charles.
She likes him, there's no denying that.
She hated admitting it — she scribbled out his name in her journal. Levi Harrison — the name alone makes her want to gag.
She flips through the pages of the journal — her face scrunching into one of disgust at the mere mention of Levi. The journal smells like Levi too — his worn out leather and smoke with hints of tobacco and alcohol.
It reeks of Levi's Polo cologne, the cheap sample kind you get in a bathroom for 75 cents — Willa can't stand the smell. She wants to gag at the smell of it.
She studied the worn journal and tosses it into the trash can. This was supposed to be a fresh start for her. So it will be.
If anything, Charles was a symbol of fresh starts — she would treat him as such.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Willa stares at the calendar, it's October thirteenth and three days until Charles' birthday — Charles had just finished up the Japanese Grand Prix in sixth place.
From what she remembers, Augustine said the Suzuka track was a place of bad memories — starting with the crash that inevitably led to Jules Bianchi's death.
Willa's unsure if she should mention it or congratulate him — one thing is certain, she would get him a birthday present. It was only once that someone turned 22.
