„He is an idiot."
„You too."
_-_-_-_-_
Haydée and Arthur.
DeeDee and Artie.
You can say it how you want but it still has same meaning. It's always these two, brunette girl and brunette boy.
Since her birth they know each other. They were their first...
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~•~
Luckily, Arthur had left as soon as Alex appeared, so Haydée had the rest of the day to herself. That is, if you could call it peace when your lap is occupied by a golden furball that, when moved beside you, climbs back onto your lap. Plus, Charles had invited his brother Lorenzo over for dinner, so the apartment was filled with laughter and the smell of food, although it was healthy since Charles had to watch what he ate.
Haydée knew them well—she was familiar with the entire Leclerc family—but even so, she felt like she shouldn't be at that dinner. Arthur should have been there, not her, but for some mysterious reason, Arthur had skipped it. So Haydée had dinner with Charles, Alex, Lorenzo, and his wife Charlotte.
Saturday also flew by. Haydée did her best to avoid Arthur as much as possible. They saw each other occasionally and exchanged a few words, but for most of the day, they each kept to their own tasks, ignoring each other. Or at least, that's what Haydée did. Arthur, on the other hand, would glance at her and smile when he saw her having fun. He knew she didn't like fast cars, so he reassured himself by making sure she was perfectly fine. He also knew she sometimes suffered from anxiety when there were too many people around—another reason she didn't attend races. He didn't want anything to happen to her, so he kept a discreet eye on her.
And then there was Sunday. The race that could decide everything, since Charles had secured pole position in Saturday's qualifying. Everyone—his family, fans, and the entire Ferrari garage—knew about his curse when it came to his home race. Haydée genuinely wished for him to win, mainly because they were friends, and who wouldn't want their friend to win, right? But also because she wanted him to show everyone that he wasn't cursed. That he had what it took to win. She might not like fast cars and wouldn't watch the race much, but that didn't mean she couldn't root for someone and hope they would win.
"Are you ready for today?" Alex asked when she spotted the brunette in the kitchen, spreading butter on toast with strawberry jam ready beside it. Haydée wasn't on a diet; she never really watched what she ate or worried about her weight—as long as she was happy with how she looked, she never fretted over eating too much or indulging in something unhealthy.
"And why are you asking?" Haydée replied, "Are you asking if I'm ready for fast cars or for Charles to finally win his home race?"
"Both?" Alex answered with a question of her own.
The funny thing was, Haydée considered Alex to be older, even though they were the same age. Both were born in 2002, but it seemed to Haydée that Charles's girlfriend was much wiser than her. As if Alex had lived on this earth for many more years, because she always knew what to say and what to do. Haydée, on the other hand, never really knew what to do. She just existed and got by.
"I'll manage, Alex, you don't need to worry about me," Haydée chuckled, moving on from butter to jam. "Maybe I don't like fast cars and still don't understand why anyone would voluntarily drive at such speeds on strange tracks and battle for positions with nineteen other drivers, but I'll manage. I've always managed, so today won't be any different."
