Chasing You

Chapter 1

ADDIE

I watch as the cars drive rounds around the circuit, the sound of the tires scratching the ground and the engine roaring beaming through the air. Oh, how I love Formula One.

Truth to be told, it didn't even start like this. I never wanted this job first. Two years ago, I was still trying to finish my studies in journalism, part-time working at a lifestyle magazine. I had my blog, a nice apartment in Kansas City, and enough money to support my coffee addiction.

Looking at it now, I still can't believe that used to be me.

I don't know whether I miss that life or not.

"Are you excited for Bahrain?", Harper asks. Her blonde curls dance in the air as she turns to meet my gaze.

I let go of the red car that had my focus until now, and fully face her. "Yeah", I answer.

"Oh, come on, Addie", she continues. "Best opportunity of your life and you sound as if you're heading to your funeral."

I force a chuckle, although she does not know the amount of caffeine and Harry Styles I had to ingest to fully be able to get through the next few days. "No, I am excited", I lie. Well, half a lie. I really am excited. I just don't know how I'll be able to meet certain people again.

"Adeline Clarke, you listen to me", she tugs on my hand to get my full attention. "In less than 24 hours we'll be on a plane heading to Bahrain, to spend one whole Formula One season as a media intern for a team. Not only are we going to see the world, meet hot-ass men who can drive and spend our nights clubbing in some of the most select bars to exist, but we've also spent the last few weeks locked in a library studying to pass our exams. So, may I remind you that you deserve this? And that we are going to have the best time ever?"

It's true. She does have a point. This next F1 season is one of the reasons I chose to apply for this program. One year of studying theory of journalism and the history of Formula One. Followed by a whole season of attending the races and getting an insight perspective by being part of the media team of a Formula One team. All expenses covered by them. Meaning no money struggles for food and a roof over my head. Meaning no repetition of the years I've just had.

It sounded perfect.

Even if I knew the risk it would mean. Even if I knew the risk of meeting him again. He's been living rent-free in my head ever since that one night we met, and we didn't even fuck. Damn, we didn't even kiss.

But whatever he did that night, had me under a spell.

I thought meeting him again would be no problem. No, I convinced myself it wouldn't be a problem, just because I wanted this job so much.

I am meanwhile facing the consequences of seeing him again soon.

Yet I can almost see the look on my Dad's face, if he only knew his little girl is going to Formula One. My father used to love it. Every weekend meant the red shirt on and the TV streaming the current Grand Prix.

If not for me, I have to do it for him.

That doesn't exclude the few shots to get me through the night.

"You're right", I tell Harper, looping my hand through hers as the race ends. "We'll have a blast." I take a pause, flashing a smile. "Are you done packing, or do you have a lot left? Join me for some shots at Macy's?"

"Fuck, you know I can't say no to that", she already grins. Then, looking over at the stands: "Let me get the girls."

~

There are ten teams in Formula One. Our program has only ten spots. We used to be fifty at the beginning, yet the exams were set to qualify who gets to go on the F1 season, and who doesn't make the cut.

Harper has been my roommate this whole time. She used to fantasise about working with Astoria, Apollo or Espen. The 'Big Three', as they are usually called. The teams always scoring poll, always winning the races. There are good teams. And there are legends. They would be the legends.

All my life, all I used to know was Astoria. My Dad's favourite. Each team has a different focus. Espen's is to win. Apollo's is to innovate. To be better than before, to learn and to evolve.

Astoria lives by the motto of loyalty.

Performance is important to them, but the team stays in focus.

My Dad would cherish that most. He was a teacher, so he would always be busy, but in the few days we'd get together, we would usually watch the races. Dad would take out his red shirt, the team's official colour, and we would cheer for the drivers on screen. One Christmas, I gathered enough money from my job at a coffee shop in my hometown that I got him an Astoria official merchandise shirt. You would only see him in that during the weekends. I would wear my red Summer dress or red sweater, and the friendship bracelets I made with the team.

As the drivers changed, I was already moved out and on my own. Yet I got him a new shirt with the new number. At first, I would still drive from the uni campus to our place during the weekends to watch the races with him. Yet the more I had to study, the rare become my visits.

Until our lives changed, and we found out about the disease, and I would spend hours by his bed hoping his next breath isn't the last one.

I wouldn't care when I last eaten, or if I was missing classes, or if my boyfriend broke up with me because I didn't have much time left for him. All I cared was seeing that this one person, the only person who ever stayed, was still alive.

And he was. The treatment was going well.

Until it didn't.

I take the shot hoping the alcohol burns away the tears and memories, but it doesn't. It never does. I tried it at first, the first few weeks after Dad died, but it didn't work. I gave up soon after.

"Why isn't Addie happy?", Cindy asks. The redhead is along with me on the program. We are four girls in total. Harper, Cindy, Gina and me. We befriended each other more and more, knowing that we'll have a bunch of time together in these next few months.

"She hasn't seen the Pinterest board yet", Harper answers. She takes out her phone and opens the app, showing me the board they added me yesterday in. "See. We even made different sections. One for each of us how we envision ourselves as a F1 wag. And one for all the cool things we'll do in our free time."

"Bungee jumping in Australia, food coma in Italy, skinny dipping in Brazil...", Gina daydreams. I swear, that girl gets high on adrenalin.

"Shopping spree in Monaco, bike tours in the Netherlands...", Cindy continues.

"Becoming F1 wags, hello", Harper doesn't let it go.

The girls chuckle, I'm the only one who has to swallow hard at that.

"Addie", Cindy must have noticed it. "Have you not seen the drivers?"

"They are all married", I point out. Although I know they are not. I know a particular one is not.

"Only a few. Actually, only Walker, Briar, Cunnan and Dyer. The rest are only dating."

"No", I stop her train of thought.

"And the rest of them are single...", she keeps it.

I sigh starting to rub my temples.

"TAKE ME WITH YOU TO THE F1 PARTY, I'LL GIVE YOU SKITTLES."

A red car stopping at the margin of the street. Chocolate eyes and brown hair, the prettiest man I've ever seen.

"Skittles you say?"

I am knee-deep in shit.