Fast pacing | Charles Leclerc

Chapter 5: Just a memory from the weekend

I felt a ray of sunshine pass across my face and it woke me up. I opened my eyes and didn't realize what was happening. The last thing I remember was dancing with Charles. We were in the middle of the dance floor. I looked around me. I was in my hotel room. My phone was next to me. I looked at the time - it was almost noon. Since no one had looked for me yet, it wasn't time to leave already. I sighed and closed my eyes again.

I woke up to the ringtone on my phone. I looked at the screen and saw my sister's name written on it. I didn't even try to sit up in bed because I felt a huge weight on my head. Apparently I had had too much to drink the night before. "Sis, how are you?" said Francesca a little worried. I took a deep breath and assured her I was fine, "Don't worry, I'll be fine, but maybe tomorrow." She sighed and laughed lightly, "If you only knew how many questions I got from Mom at breakfast." "Fran, I don't know what happened last night at the club myself. Last I remember Charles. What happened with him?" I heard my sister sighing on the other side. "He helped me get you here and only left after making sure you were okay." Horrible! I can't believe he saw me in that state. "Come on, straighten up and get your bags. We'll be flying home in 2 hours." she said and hung up on me.

I threw my phone somewhere on the bed and put both hands on my face. I felt so ashamed. I couldn't drink much alcohol, it didn't feel good for me and yet I did it yesterday. What does he think of me now? I must have made him desperate. I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready. Before that, though, I called room service to get me coffee and a croissant. There was no way I was going to run into my mom's issues later on an empty stomach and without caffeine in my bloodstream.

I gathered my things, put on a comfortable outfit and put on glasses to hide the shame that read in my eyes.

I went down to the lobby to the others. Again they were waiting only for me. "Honey, did you get enough sleep?" dad asked, giving me a hug. I nodded and smiled at him. At that moment, I felt the disapproving smack coming from my mom's mouth. "Sophia! I wasn't exactly expecting that kind of behavior from you!" she said and crossed her arms. "Mother, please, let's not have this conversation now." I begged her and she fell silent.

We loaded our luggage into a van that would take us to the airport. I couldn't wait to get home. This weekend had been fun and made me relax like never before. However, it was time to get back to reality. Where was Charles? I didn't wonder why he hadn't called me - so he didn't have my number, and why would he? We were just having a little fun, and that was that. At the thought of him a small smile broke from my mouth. My dad seemed to notice this and said, "Next weekend the race is in Austria. Sweetheart, you just say the word and we're going." I smiled at him, but when I saw my mother's piercing gaze, the smile fell from my face. What was wrong with her? I stared out the window and wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

As soon as I got home and turned on my phone I noticed 10 missed calls from Marta. She knew I was coming back today, but maybe something had happened for her to call me that many times. I immediately dialed her and went into my bedroom. "If you had told me we were going to a party with sexy Formula One racers, I would have come with you to Spain." she said immediately. "Wait a minute, how do you know?", I startled. "There you are in one of the pictures with Charles. Look at it, I sent it to you." I took the phone off my ear and opened my chat with Marta. There I saw the picture.

"I can't believe this news is spreading so fast," I sighed. "Sophia, this is Charles fucking Leclerc. Anything to do with him spreads fast." "Yeah, maybe you're right." "Is it me or do you have something to tell me?" hissed Marta. I laughed lightly - she never missed anything. My lack of response was answer enough for her. "Right. I'll be with you in a bit." she said and hung up the phone.

After nearly 30 minutes, Marta came into my room and hurried to hug me. I was very happy to see her, mostly because I would be able to tell her what happened with Charles. She sat down next to me on the bed and began to braid my hair as I told her everything, sparing no details. "I can't believe you came back a still a virgin!" was the first thing she said. I punched her lightly on the shoulder and we both laughed. "Soph, honey, you look changed to me. But I can't figure out what exactly. It's like your eyes glow differently." Marta shared with me, sounding sincere. I shrugged, "I don't know, I feel different." "I think that confidence in you suits you very well. Keep it up." she smiled at me and then continued "Now tell me what are you going to do with Charles. When are you going to see me again?" "See him again? Maybe never. There's nothing between us." "From your story, it doesn't sound like nothing to me, Sophia." "If it's meant to be, we'll meet again." I said calmly, laughing slightly because I knew how much Marta hated relying on fate. In her mind, one had to act, not rely on some unseen force.

Our conversation was interrupted by my mother's voice calling out, "Girls! Dinner's ready, we'll expect you on the porch."

We all had dinner together and updated Jules and Marta with any details about the race. It was getting late and Marta had to head home. I sent her off and went up to my room. I wanted to lay in my own bed and get some sleep.

In the morning I woke up quite rested. I stretched and got up, straightened up in the bathroom, then went downstairs and went into the kitchen. Strangely, it was very quiet. "Is anyone here?" I called out. I got no answer and shrugged. Ah, it was Monday - apparently everyone had already gone out somewhere, each to their own tasks. I was happy because I was finally going to get some real rest. I made a coffee and went out on the porch where the sun was shining on my face. I enjoyed the moment. I heard a tone from my phone signaling a text message, I picked it up and saw it was from an unknown number. Strange.

Bonjour, Cheri. Comment vous sentez-vous ?

The French was enough to tell whose number it was. I didn't want to answer him. Nothing was going to change anyway. He was going to Austria, then to other countries because of the races, and I was in Italy. I didn't see the point in getting into sweet talk on the phone. I left my phone on the table next to me and sipped my coffee.