Page 4 of The Fast Track

“Hello. Justine, right?”

I whirl around.

Dietrich Lange is standing two feet away. Up close, his eyes are ten times bluer than they look on TV.

“H-hi!” I choke out. “I’m your new mentee!”

The corner of his mouth twists into a half smile. “I know. Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” I say automatically. “Mingling and networking are so much fun.”

The truth is, as much as I love racing, I feel the oppositeabout the off-track obligations. Schmoozing with sponsors, charming the press—all the stuff that’s strenuously exhausting when you have the charisma of an unsalted potato, like me. I grin and bear it because I have to (as Mom makes clear every time I try to get out of an event), but I’d rather listen to three hours of my Uncle Jun’s dad jokes than make small talk with sponsors like a used car salesman.

Dietrich chuckles. The way he lights up makes me feel like he can see right through my lie. And I know instantly that behind all the glitz and talent and blue eyes, there’s a person I could really like too.

Unlike someone else I met today.

As if summoned, Cameron materializes along with Georgios and Pat McCombe, the third driver on our F3 team. They squeeze in between Dietrich and me, jostling to get closer to him.

“How’s the car feeling this year, Dietrich?” Cameron asks. He stands at his full six foot one, chest puffed out like Dietrich is some girl he’s trying to impress.

“Good so far, I guess.” Dietrich shrugs. “But you never know until the first race.”

“Of course, one never knows. Absolutely,” Cameron says. Next to him, Pat and Georgios nod like those bobblehead toys people stick on their car dashboards. “How was your offseason? Frank mentioned you were mostly back in Heidelberg. That’s where you grew up, right?”

“Good memory.”

Cameron shrugs in anaw, shucksway. “Well, I reckon we should know the basics about each other. We’re all part of the Orbital family, after all.”

Ick. Regurgitating HR catchphrases is so corny. I can’t believe I was almost into him for five minutes. It also does not escape me that knowing every inch of Dietrich Lange’s personal life but not being able to identify me when I’m literally standing in front of an F3 car shows just how part of the “Orbital family” I am to Cameron Evans.

“Did you get to spend time with your girlfriend?” I jump in, eager not to be boxed out of airtime. “She’s from there too, right?” Take that, Cameron—you’re not the only one well versed in Dietrich Lange’s personal life. Thank you, F1 TikTok.

Dietrich stares at me, a crinkle on his forehead. “You mean Hannie? We’re not together anymore.”

Damn you, F1 TikTok.

An awkward silence ensues, broken only by the sound of Pat slurping on his piña colada. Before I can pretend Roz is waving at me to escape this humiliation, Britt saves me. “Dietrich, the vice president of Jump Media is looking for a word.”

Dietrich gives a resigned sigh, then nods at the four of us. “If you’ll excuse me.”

We watch as he leaves with Britt, turning heads the entire way. I take an extra-large sip of my fizzy drink. That’s 0 for 2 today when it comes to important industry people I should be impressing and not embarrassing myself in front of. Not the most promising start.

“If it makes you feel better,” Pat says, “I heard it was a pretty tame split.”

“Nah, mate.” Georgios shakes his head. “Carolina told me she showed up in the lobby and had to be escorted out by security.”

“Way to bring the mood down, Kwong.” Cameron snickers.

I can’t believe I ever thought this guy was attractive.

“Come on, let’s get another drink,” Georgios says.

The boys saunter off, leaving me standing alone. I watch as Cameron orders his drink, leaning into the bar. The model-gorgeous bartender, who’s at least two years older than us, preens under his attention.

I sigh. Cameron looks like what everyone expects an F1 driver to be: glamorous, dashing, just as at ease at a fancy cocktail party as at a circuit. Meanwhile, no one would pick me out of a lineup for snowplow drivers, much less F1.

But that’s the thing about expectations: They can be broken. Today was definitely not the most auspicious start, but we’ll be hitting the track soon, and I’ll get a chance to prove I can keep up. That I can go toe-to-toe with the big boys.