Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 32

please comment throughout!

~***~

Qualifying Results Spain:

P1 VAN, P2 LEC, P3 VET, P4 VER, P5 RAI, P6 MAG, P7 GAS, P8 ALB, P9 KVY, P10 OCO, P11 GRO, P12 SCH, P13 SAI, P14 NOR, P15 STR, P16 RIC, P17 HUL, P18 RUS, P19 LAT, P20 ARC*

*after penalty

~***~

It's not very often that a Formula One car has a full electrical failure, however it's what happened to me during the second session of qualifying. To say I was annoyed was an understatement. The lack of radio connection from the failure meant that it took longer to establish what had caused the failure, and therefore it took longer to figure out what needed to be fixed. In the end, my poor Mercedes required an unscheduled full power unit change meaning that I'd receive a ten-place grid penalty for the race. This was revealed to me just before I left the Mercedes building on Saturday evening, putting me in a foul mood when I went to meet up with Max for him to take me back to the hotel.

No one dared to approach me as I leaned on the railing outside of Red Bull, my arms folded tightly across my chest and a permanent frown on my features. I wanted to know who I pissed off in a past life to warrant this kind of misfortune. For the second race in a row, I have been handed a penalty that puts me on the back foot for the race. I hated started from the back of the grid because it increases my chance of getting wiped out by some lap one collision.

"Someone looks happy," Christian's clear sarcastic tone brought me out of my trance. I forced a smile as I looked up at the Red Bull team boss, trying not to let my bitterness show, however it seemed like he could clearly sense that. "Lost?"

"Sorry," I stood up a little straighter, "that failure I had during qualifying... for a moment I thought I was driving one of your cars. These are common occurrences for you, no?"

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humour."

"I'll never be too grumpy to make fun of you guys, don't worry," I reassured. "It's one of the things I look forward to in my day."

"So, anyone in particular you're here to see?" Christian's raised eyebrow made me suspect that he knew about Max and I. I couldn't assume that Max had told his boss; I hadn't even told Toto yet! Instead, the safest option was to just play it cool. It's not uncommon for drivers to be friends off-grid and get lifts to the hotel together if they're the same location.

I smiled. "Max - he gave me a lift in this morning so he's my ride back, too."

The corners of Christian's smile tugged even further upwards. "Oh? I can't help but notice that he spends a lot of his free time with you."

"That's true. Honestly, I can't get rid of him," I joked, letting out a small chuckle.

"Anything," he cleared his throat and leant a little closer, "anything going on between you two?"

"I'm sure he'd let you know if there was. You are his team boss, after all."

Christian hummed, his suspicions clearly not going down despite my answer. For a moment, I thought Max may have mentioned something to him and this was just a test, but then I realised how crazy that would be. I'd like to think Christian likes me. He stood up for me on multiple occasions last season, and the only reason I've ever given him for not liking me is retaking the championship lead from his driver after the Zandvoort race.