Chasing You

Chapter 12

ADDIE

I think the Australian airport is the most I'll see of the land this weekend. Because from the look on Benedict Crumb's face, he does not look pleased with me.

"In Italian, 'sogno' means dream. And I think that's what you need to know about Scuderia Astoria", he reads the first sentence of my article. Joshua next to me frowns as he shakes his head in disgust, yet Crumb says: "Wait, it goes on." And then he keeps reading: "It all started with a couple's dream. Emilia Astoria had wished to see the world. Yet money was lacking, and her husband decided that if he couldn't bring her in the world, he would bring the world to her. So Francesco Astoria designed a car that would fulfil his wife's dream. Little did he know that car would become what it is today. Astoria is more than a car, it is a legacy. A dream that never stopped. A dream to share the passion for racing. And this dream spread. Fans from all around the world come wearing red, the colour of passion, to cheer for their favourite drivers fighting for this dream. And...", Crumb stops, not wanting to do this anymore. "What did we send you over to Astoria for, girl?"

"To find dirt", Joshua answers for me.

"And what did you do?", Crumb shouts now.

"Wrote them a fucking love letter, that is", Joshua again.

"I'm sorry", I feel the need to say. "I just couldn't fight any dirt. You wanted me to write something, this is what I did. I am sure we can find another way to get Espen's reputation up and running. We could..."

"I don't even want to hear what you think is best for my team", Crumb interrupts me. "You're fired. Effective immediately. Go cry at your little dreamers. I've already sent my decision to your mentor. Ms. Greene will inform you about how your future path with Formula One shall look like. As far as I'm concerned, you are to not come at Espen again. Did I make myself clear?"

I'm not really sure I'm even nodding, my head is spinning to hard. Benedict Crumb means to leave, Joshua already on his tail, as he turns around to me one more time. "And just out of my generosity, and because you're still young and untrained, a piece of advice. Rules are meant to be followed. Unless you have the power to break them. You. Don't."

All I hear is a banging door.

~

"Why did you do it?", Johnathan asks me as I'm back at the Espen garage to pack my stuff. In one of my hands, staring at me, is my dismissal from the program. There are ten teams in Formula One. There are ten spots on the program. As soon as a team fires you, as Espen just did to me, one apparently gets kicked out from the program. Harper, Cindy and Gina came to offer me their farewell and tears-filled hugs a few minutes ago, before they left to attend the tour of the Sydney Opera House they had booked.

I lower my headphones around my neck and turn to look at him. "Because it was the right thing to do."

"It is not how things are done", he counters.

"But it was the right thing to do."

He sighs, helping me put a framed picture of me and Harper into the cardboard box. "Are you going to leave right away?", he asks me.

I shake my head. "I have the hotel paid til tomorrow. Tomorrow, the program found me a flight. I can't afford another hotel, so I'm heading straight home after that."

"And how far is your home?", he asks me.

"Kansas City", I let out a short forced laughter.

"So, far away", he concludes for me. I only nod.

Johnathan keeps helping me put my stuff inside the box. The small Harry Funko Pop. My coloured pencils. My laptop. I can't believe I am already leaving, when I haven't even started. I literally just got to experience two races.

At least one was won by Astoria.

Maybe it's exactly that way of thinking that had me fired in the first place.

"Do you think we could meet up sometime?", Johnathan asks after a while.

I shrug, really hoping I can get a clean cut from this and leave it all behind. "I don't know. Do you ever see yourself coming to Kansas City?"

"Yeah, you're right", he thinks about it. "What about you coming to another race?"

"Highly unlikely."

"You could be my guest", he offers. I still. He must have noticed, for when he speaks again, the question comes out edgy: "If someone from Astoria would be the one asking, would the answer sound different?"

I refuse to give any sign of either yes or no.

"I don't get what people see in them anyway", he chuckles, mostly to himself. "They don't shit rainbows or something like that."

It's my turn to laugh. "You're right. But then again, you never know."

Neither of us says anything else. And at one point, Johnathan leaves.

It's the first time ever since what happened happened that I'm alone with my thoughts and realise the graveness of what I just did.