Page 24 of Drive Me Wild
“Yup!”
I locate Wes in the motorhome and the two of us make our way to the stands situated by the starting line. We trudge up the concrete metal steps, side-stepping strangers sitting shoulder to shoulder in their favorite Formula 1 team’s gear. I’ve always loved the camaraderie between fans—people who might not meet, otherwise connecting, all because they love the same team.
We find our seats and settle into the hard plastic. My feet tap against the floor, crushing discarded popcorn and smushed peanut shells as we wait for the race to start. A hush comes over the crowd as the gantry light start to flick on. The moment the final light goes off, indicating the race has begun, the announcer’s voice booms through the loudspeaker.
Theo shows great pace right away, and his launch is so good that he doesn’t even need the slipstream Blake’s car gives him. He aggressively nudges his way into the corner of the first turn, forcing Blake to pull back and concede the lead. The two of themduke it out for the next sixteen laps, pushing and pulling to take the front of the pack.
During lap twenty-four, a Catalyst driver cuts too close to Theo, forcing him to clip the curb with his front right tire. He loses control of his car and slams into the barrier, front-first. The screech of metal sliding against the barricade makes the hair on my arms stand up.
I’ve seen almost every Formula 1 driver crash. No matter how minor the crash is, my heart still skips a beat, my breath catching in my chest as I wait to find out if the driver’s okay. Theo’s crash isn’t the worst one he’s been in, but it’s not a good one, either. Not that there’s such a thing as a good crash.
The camera switches between Andreas in the pit garage, standing between engineers, and Theo’s car, metal pieces surrounding it.Shit. I adjust the volume on the radio earpiece I’m still wearing so I can hear what’s going on.
“Theo?” Andreas asks through the radio. “You okay, mate?”
“Well, I just got hit by a car going 170 kph,” Theo responds, his breathing heavy. “So I’ve definitely been better, Andreas, but your concern is appreciated. Almost makes me forget that it feels like someone just smacked my head with the back of a frying pan.”
“Safety car will be there shortly. Can you get out on your own?”
There’s a pause. “No. It’s like someone sticky glued my arse to the seat. I amnothaving a very good time right now. I’d like a refund for this ride.”
I snort in response. Theo’s radio recordings are legendary for how ridiculous they can be.
I watch the safety car swarm his wrecked car from the jumbotron. As soon as they get Theo out of his car, he swings his foot at the tire before bending over, his left arm gripping his right shoulder.These drivers don’t care as much that they’veslammed into a barrier as they do that their cars are ruined and their chance at a win is dashed. Now that fans know Theo’s okay, the screen switches back to the race.
I wait a few minutes before texting Ella.
Josie Bancroft
How’s Theo doing?
Ella Gold
He’s currently having a screaming match with Russell because he’s refusing to go to the medical center.
Getting Theo checked out after an accident is akin to getting a toddler to agree to a flu shot. It’s always a fight. The last time Theo went to the med center was when Blake was in a bad crash last season, and he was worried. Theo’s insistence that he’s “fine” after every crash is not only stubborn, it’s plain stupid. Formula 1 cars may have all the best safety features, but there’s no telling the internal damage a crash can cause.
Josie Bancroft
Sounds about right. Does his shoulder seem okay? He grabbed it when he got out of the car.
Ella Gold
He keeps rolling it back and grunting. I’ll have Blake talk to him once the race is over.
I sink into my seat and force my attention back to the race. I’ll just have to trust that Russell and Blake can convince Theo to take care of himself.
Slinking out of the cab,I power walk into the nearby hotel the party is being hosted at. Blisters form on my feet andmy Spanx are dangerously tight under my silky dress, making it hard to move my body, let alone breathe, but I have a certain driver to yell at.
Under Russell’s strict instructions, Theo is supposed to skip the event and take it easy tonight. Ice his shoulder, take some pain meds, and go to bed early. I know this because Blake grumbled about Theo’s bedrest all afternoon. He hates attending parties without his driving partner because it forces him to talk to McAllister’s sponsors on his own.
Thanks to social media and Theo’s inability tonotpost what he’s doing, I know he’s here and is already two drinks in.
The party planners go above and beyond for each Grand Prix gala and event, constantly one-upping themselves, and this one is no exception. The room is filled with the usual who’s who, but it’s easy to locate the Australian in question. He’s leaning against the bar, chatting with a few other drivers, who I’m sure are worshipping at his feet. Theo prefers to be the center of attention, so wherever there’s a crowd, he’ll most likely be in the center of it.
My heels click against the shiny floors as I make my way through the crowd. Gorgeous white marble stretches as far as the eye can see and crystal chandeliers glisten in the soft lighting, illuminating the glamour of the event. I grab a flute of champagne off the tray from a server circulating through the crowd, careful that the golden bubbles rising to the top don’t spill over the edge of the glass.
I take a swig of my drink as I approach Theo’s gaggle of admirers. “What are you doing here?” I demand. All four men turn to stare at me, their black dress shoes gleaming despite the soft lighting of the room.
