Double Sided Tracks

I'd like to marry you

2014

17 year old Max Verstappen DNF'd in Silverstone, it was humiliating. His dad had given him the look.

Where he just knows that he's going to be lectured like crazy, being called names, and all other rituals that he thinks best for his morals. He chose the furthest bathroom, and chose to use the public one instead of the one reserved for drivers. He needed to buy some time from his dad, no matter how small it was.

Then he met Nora.

"Is your dad a driver too?" she asked.

"He was an F1 driver."

She made an ooh sound, "was he any good?" she asked.

"Not really." He said, trying to hold his smile. "I got a podium in Nurburgring." He added, mostly to himself but liking the way it made her smile. "Yeah, I got a podium in Nurburgring!" he repeated, she just giggled.

"So, you're beating him. He should shut up." He laughed, then he cried. Nora just stared at her, not in a mean way. "I know you're going to be one hundred times better than your dad when you get to F1." she said with certainty.

Max's chest feels all warm and content, funny how one encouraging sentence can send a shock to his body. Max smiled, "I will invite you to my garage."

"I'll wait, Verstappen." She had said and pointed at his race suit where 'Verstappen' embroidered beside the small Netherland's flag.

"Give me 2 years?" he asked.

"Sure." she said, again with confidence. "It's Nora, by the way. So you can write my name down on the guest list."

2015

17 year old Max Verstappen DNF'd in Australia, it was not humiliating this time because everyone said so. His dad was waiting back in the garage and for the first time he wasn't afraid of taking off his helmet, because it was an engine failure, and it was not his fault. His race was still notable because he was only 17 years and 166 days old, and he is a Formula 1 driver.

He stopped one of the hospitality personnels, feeling awkward all of a sudden. "Hey–"

"Hey, Max! I'm sorry about the race," Max nodded, "just doing a garage tour for our paddock guests," she said kindly. Max nodded quickly and offered the guests a small smile. They offered him one back too, he's not that famous now. Only in Toro Rosso, no one would scream for his name like they would for Hamilton, Vettel or hell– Daniel.

"Melissa, did.. Did Nora pick up her guest pass?" he asked timidly.

Melissa gave him a confused look for a split second, then, "uh, no." is all she said. Later on she found him in his motorhome and said, "Max, here it is. An extra pass, if you want to keep it for keepsake." She had explained to her that it's difficult to hand her the pass if Max didn't give her a picture, because then she can't make her a VIP pass where she could leave it at the credential centre. Max only nodded, though he asked her if she could put one aside for Nora again.

"Max–" Melissa started.

Max cut her off, "How many passes do I have each race, Melissa?"

"Tehcnically two extras, you are still a rookie, I'm sorry Max. But– I'll keep one extra for her, okay?" she said. Like it's not a big deal anyways, because she will not turn up.

But Melissa is wrong, of course. Nora will turn up. She will. It just won't be Australia, Malaysia, China, Bahrain, Spain, Monaco, Canada, or Austria.

But this is Silverstone, where he met her. Where they met. If she was from Silverstone, she would surely be here and she would remember the promise they made last year, right?