My simulator times have been strong, a lot more so than Christian’s. I have him beat in endurance too, and analysis, which has always been easy for me. However, he’s physically stronger than I am, at least for the moment. Over the past few years, I haven’t focused as much on lifting weights as I have on every other category. Seeing Christian do better in it is infuriating, especially because he keeps bothering me about it.
“Finally, Tina, you have all the proof you need to see you’re weaker than me,” he said yesterday after Andrea told us our results. I rolled my eyes. “Now, what does that show you?” he challenged me.
“It shows me you suck at analysis, considering you came to this conclusion by looking at one data point, Sebastian,” I replied, pissing him off.
There is something that crosses his face every time I use a wrong name for him, and I’m convinced it’s a combination of anger and disappointment. Meanwhile, victory floods my features whenever I manage to knock the arrogance off his lips.
Today, Andrea is taking us to Extrema Kart, a Go-Kart race track near the academy. Christian has been uncharacteristically quiet all morning, and I enjoy the peace. Lucie and Haru try to tell me a story about what they did last weekend, but I only understand half of it because they keep laughing. He shoots her a longing look after a while, which she doesn’t seem to notice. No one does, except me. I see the way he smiles at Lucie as she beams at the chaotic time they had at the track during our time off. Eventually, she gives up and simply takes Haru’s hand. I grin to myself and can’t help but wish Gabriel was here.
It’s been two days since he left to go back to Monaco for work and family responsibilities. The last time I saw Adrian and James was at the event four days ago, and I miss them a lot. We text and call, but it’s never going to be the same: James and Gabriel just barging into my house, and Adrian always being home after training. I’m alone here, and, as excited as I am, it also brings back the lonely feeling I always experienced in LA.
“Alright, everyone, here are the rules for today. Ready?” Andrea asks, and we all answer with a ‘Yes, Boss!’. “Have fun, okay? You’ve been working hard enough this week. Take a break,” they add, and everyone cheers, except Christian. He’s been frowning the entire time.
The others and I move over to where the karts and helmets are, but Andrea calls me over to them. Christian is already standing beside them, a brooding frown on his thin lips.
“I have some news. This morning, I got a call from Lorenzo Mattia, the Ferrari F1 team principal,” they start, and I hold my breath. “He said one of you can go to Baku for the fifth race and gather some experience working with the team.” I take an involuntary step back, a nervous feeling spreading through my chest now. “I want you to take today’s race to prove to me you’re worthy of this opportunity, okay?” they ask, and both of us nod.
Andrea gives me a serious look, reminding me Christian is willing to do anything to win, that I should be careful.
“I’m going to grind you to dust,” Christian whispers in my ear as we make our way back over to the karts.
“You never have before,” I reply when all of a sudden, he places his leg in front of mine, tripping me. I lose balance, but, luckily, Lucie and Haru were watching the whole thing and catch me before I fall to the ground.
“Don’t fucking underestimate me,” Christian warns in French to ensure I’m the only one who understands him. Asshole.
“Are you alright?” Lucie asks, but I assure her I’m fine, the anger I feel for Christian fueling me now. My body was tired from training, but adrenalin replaces exhaustion. He can’t win, I won’t let him.
Andrea reminds us one last time to have fun and be safe before we get to drive around the track to get a feel for it. Then, we do a mock Qualifying to find out who will start where. Everyone simply takes one lap, and Andrea stops our time. Haru is fastest overall with me in second, Christian in third, Lucie in fourth, and the rest of the guys taking up places five to nine.
Our instructor stands at the side with a green flag in their hand, waving it when we’re allowed to finally start. My reaction time is slightly better than Haru’s, allowing me to overtake him in the first corner. I speed down the straight, breaking late to give me more of an advantage, but Christian is right behind me.
This race is only supposed to be two laps so that we can have careless fun after, but they are the longest laps of my life.
At the start of the second one, Christian bumps into the back of my kart, and I barely manage to keep it from swerving off the track. This gives him an advantage, allowing him to pull up next to me. I push ahead again, but he slams against me even harder than before.
My kart gets shoved into the barriers and off-track until I’m on a grass area where I’m thrown from it before it flips over itself. A stinging pain shoots through my left hand as I roll away from the vehicle. I distantly hear someone screaming my name, but my ears are ringing from hitting my head and helmet on the ground.
“Valentina,” the voice repeats, and I identify it to be Andrea’s.
They appear in front of me, a first-aid kit in their grasp. My hand starts to throb, and I lift my right one to hold onto it.
“Can you take your helmet off?” they ask, and I attempt to, but pain shoots through my left thumb.
I shake my head, and they remove it for me, the ringing finally stopping now that the pressure on my head is gone.
“What happened?” is the next question Andrea asks, and I look into their brown eyes.
“Christian, he—uhm, he—” I cut off, the shock confusing my mind.
“Did he push you off track?” I manage to nod before Andrea says something in Italian I don’t understand. It sounds like swear words. “It’s okay, Valentina, you’re okay. I have some medical training in cases of emergency like this. May I check you for injury?” they ask, and I thank them.
Andrea puts pressure on every part of my legs, watching my reaction to see if anything hurts. They move on to my ribs and neck, but everything else is fine. The only thing bothering me is my left wrist.
“Nothing’s broken, just bruised. It should heal in a few days,” they assure me, and I offer yet another nod.
“I’m sorry for this. I tried to keep control of the kart, but he hit it so hard, I had no control,” I explain when my brain clears up and sentences are forming again.
Andrea grabs me by the shoulders then.
“This was not your fault. I’m so happy you’re okay, Valentina, and I’m the one who is sorry. I didn’t think he would go this far to win the Baku opportunity,” they say, but I give them a comforting smile.
“Don’t worry, he would have done this whether you had told us about it or not,” I reply while they wrap my wrist and hand in a dressing to keep it in place.
“Can you stand?” I try to, but the shock hasn’t worn off completely, and my legs give in from shaking. “Okay, it’s alright. Take your time.”
This isn’t my first crash, but it was a lot scarier than any other I’ve been in. After a few more moments, I manage to walk back to the main area to sit down. Andrea gets an ice pack for me and a bottle of water so I can take some painkillers.
As soon as the other drivers return, Andrea storms toward them, grabbing Christian by the collar and dragging him out of his kart. They throw him on the grass area before the prince has any time to react.
“Are you proud of yourself? You could have cost Valentina her life!” A wave of fear spreads through my chest at the thought.
“I won, so, yes, I’m very proud,” he replies, and my fear is replaced by disgust.
“You’re an arrogant, spoiled, childish boy, and, let me assure you, it won’t get you far in my academy,” they spit, and Christian stands up to step in front of them.
“It’s not your academy, it’s Mr. Reiner’s. He is in charge, not you,” he replies, as smug as always.
“Trust me, child, it’s my academy. What I say goes, and you’re no longer going to be a part of it anymore.” Christian grabs them by the arm, making Andrea’s eyes go wide.
“It was an accident. How will you prove it wasn’t?” he asks, but our instructor realizes he’s right.
They can’t prove it, and neither can I. It’d be my word against Christian’s, and, speaking from experience, people tend to believe the royal man over anyone else.
“Pull that shit again, and I won’t need proof.” Andrea moves him out of the way before walking back over to me. They squat down, a sincere apologetic expression on their face. “I wish there was something I could do,” they say, and I smile.
“I know, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. He won’t do anything again if he hopes to stay in the academy,” I reply, trying to convince myself and Andrea. In reality, I have no idea what Christian is willing to do.
“Congratulations, Valentina, you have just earned yourself the opportunity to fly to Baku and work with the Ferrari F1 team,” Andrea announces to everyone, and my rival turns abruptly, anger all over his face.
“But she didn’t even finish the race!” he complains, balling his hands into fists. Andrea raises themself and turns to scowl at him.
“I said in order to get this opportunity, you have to show you’re worthy of it. That did not mean you had to finish first or at all. Valentina drove a clean race and suffered from your immaturity. She is more than worthy, you are more than not,” Andrea replies, their voice firm.
Christian storms off without saying another word. Satisfaction spreads through my chest, and excitement settles in my heart. I will get to spend an entire weekend gathering experiences with an F1 team. On top of that, I will get to be with my favorite people in the world. At least something good came from Christian’s immaturity.
“Go home to Monaco, Valentina, rest, and pack for Baku. I’ll see you when you return,” they say to me, and I let out a deep breath. Tears almost shoot into my eyes at the thought of finally going home.
It’s been too long.
“It’s okay, little champion, you’re okay,” Grandpa assures me as I hold my pinky and cry from pain.
He took us karting for the last time before we have to move, and one of the other people here accidentally bumped into me.
“Let me see,” he says, inspecting the damage, even though both of us know I’m not crying because of my stupid finger.
“It hurts,” I lie to cover up the fact that I’m weeping because this will be the last time in a while we get to be together.
“Val? Are you okay?” Adrian’s voice appears from behind, and he squats down in front of me too, wiping my tears and checking my face for injury. “What happened?” he asks Grandpa.
“Someone accidentally hit her kart, and she hurt her finger on the wheel,” he explains, and I nod.
“Who? I’ll make them apologize,” Adrian replies and stands up, but Grandfather places his hand on his arm to keep him here.
“Don’t worry, Valentina is going to be just fine.” My grandpa catches my tears with the back of his fingers and smiles. “When we Romanas crash, we keep pushing with our heads held high. The pain will fade, but the experience will stay forever. You’ll learn from it, grow from it, and, ultimately, benefit from it. Okay?”
“Okay,” I reply and smile back. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I assure both of them because Adrian is still looking at me with concern.
I move my finger to prove I’m not lying, and they each give me a proud look when I raise my head high.
“No one can ever take that strength away from you, little champion.”
He’s right because I won’t let them.
