𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮; oscar piastri ✔

PART SIXTEEN

So uh sorry not sorry for what's about to happen... let's just blame it on my heartbreak from Logan being kicked out of Williams mid season :D

Word count; 2,484

Addison

— July 6th, 2023. Bristol, England.

Two days since Claire's lunch and the mothers still hadn't let go of what had happened. Each time I went to the club - only twice, trying to convince myself there was some part of me that wanted to golf still, sick and tired of the same headlines, over and over - I was approached by some extended friend or acquaintance, asking the same question: how's Mel? The same people who would send us Christmas cards in the New Year after they received ours, who would rarely talk to our family unless it was to their advantage. Deserved, I thought; Ma did the exact same thing.

I climbed up to the treehouse, settling myself in the corner and I scrolled on my phone, waiting for Oscar to call. I couldn't help but read sport-forum articles, about me, about other players I had known, tackling the same predicament. I wanted to know if I wasn't the only one, though every title appeared sardonic and brashful; prodigies gone wrong, they would say. Wasted resources. Lack of devotion. As if they knew anything.

I swiped open the call, "Hello?"

"How's it going?"

"It's going." I answered. "How's it going?"

"It's going." Oscar mimicked. "What have you been up to?"

I told him, word for word; the gossip, the failed attempts at golfing, the critical website forums. In return, he explained the various PT and sim sessions, debriefs at the MTC.

"Lando's coming over later."

"Yeah?"

"We're having pizza."

"I could do with a pizza right now."

"What's for your dinner?"

"Can't go wrong with some instant noodles."

He laughed, a sound I adored. We spoke about different kinds of takeaway, our favourite orders, until somehow we ended up talking about cats. On and on, until an hour passed and the sky had darkened.

"Have you thought about Sunday?"

Naturally, I glanced across the garden as a door slid open, Da stepping onto the patio.

"I don't think so." I chewed on my inner cheek. "He doesn't care where I am when he's gone. Only when he's home."

"It's okay."

"Maybe next week sometime?"

"Yeah." He agreed. "I look forward to it."

"Me too." I watched Da wipe his hands over his cheeks, flustered. "I really miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Call me tomorrow? After practice?"

"Will you be watching?"

"Count on it."

"All right. Chat then." 

Da had registered where I was, making his way to the ladder below. My heart thrashed at my ribcage.

"Bye, Oscar." I put my phone in my pocket quickly.

"I thought you forgot about this place."

"I come here often." I said simply.