Johannes dismisses me with a wave of his hand, quickly changing the topic to a restaurant he thinks we should visit whilst we are here. He talks a good game about how he’s gonna whip my ass next weekend and I join in the mutual ribbing because it takes my mind off what Jackson and Kian might be doing back at the hotel.
He said he was going to FaceTime his sister, but that could have just been a cover. They could be shagging right now, sweaty clothes on the floor, a tangle of limbs on Kian’s bed.
Okay, so maybe Johannes isn’t doing a good job of taking my mind off the other pair.
‘You’re so spacey today.’ I blink and Johannes is standing up and starting to check his phone, our empty drinks cleared from the table.
‘Sorry,’ I tell him. ‘Think I might need an early night. I’m knackered. Why don’t they do Montreal and Miami back-to-back? Why make us go to Europe for Monaco and Spain only to drag us right back over here?’
Obviously I’m not going to say I’m stewing over my teammate shagging someone who’s not me.
‘Kian’s really is rubbing off on you if you’re going to bed early. You gonna give up drinking, too?’
I nudge his shoulder as we leave the coffee shop.
‘Dickhead. It’s you that’s turned into a boring old fart. Can’t believe you didn’t even join me at the casino in Monaco.’ Johannes had been somewhat MIA in Monaco; I couldn’t even get a hold of him for a couple days.
I want to pry, but I know he’ll talk to me if there is something bad going on.
‘Been there, done that – last year, while your sorry ass was still down in lower tier.’
We continue in that vein until we get back to the hotel. The fans outside the hotel are noisy and the crowd has almost tripled in size since we left this morning.
I’m glad there’s some security and they’ve lined the path with rope barriers to keep the hoards back, but it doesn’t stop them flinging things at us to get our attention. One woman going as far as throwing her bra at me.
I peel it off my shoulder and laugh. ‘Sorry, love. This does nothing for me. You’re barking up the wrong tree.’
She takes it well, since I make the effort to return her underwear.
‘Worth a try,’ she replies with a saucy look, and I can respect that.
God loves a trier.
Soon, Johannes and I are laughing along with the fans, and they seem happy that we stop to sign shirts and programmes instead.
Jo and I part ways at the lift, making plans for tomorrow.
Except I don’t see him again until qualifying. He looks tired when I catch a glimpse of him and his tech team on the track getting him into the cockpit.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned. Radio silence from Johannes isn’t the norm, at all. He always has his phone in his hand, quick to jump on a plan for the day if he isn’t busy.
Seems like he’s been incredibly busy.
I don’t let it throw me off though – I never let these things get to me on the track – and I manage to smash out some fast times.
This plays to my advantage in the Hendersohm team meeting because Anders is hyped up about today. There are bonus points available in Montreal because there’s a sprint race the day before the main event. Hendersohm is currently in a too-close-to-call battle right now to be top of the Constructors’ Championship against the Swedes in the McLaren team. We need every possible point to give us the edge. Anders lays on the pressure, and I lap it up like it’s gonna turn me into a diamond. Kian looks serious – no change there – and doesn’t glance at me once.
I’ve already qualified in P4, but I love the sprint races – it’s where I get to really show off what I can do – and it also gives me a chance to secure a higher position on the grid for tomorrow.
I can see why it’s the favourite track for so many drivers. Whilst there’s a lot of stop-start in some of the corners, the low downforce of sector three allows for us to be quick and flowing. And then there’s the millimetre precision necessary to avoid splatting my brains out on the Wall of Champions. You have to hit the previous apex just right, but when you do, it feels like pure magic.
After the meeting I run through checks with Ash and my tech team, and then I get into the cockpit. A flash of nerves gets my adrenaline pumping. I’m almost more nervous than an actual race day. This is just a snapshot of a race. Twenty-two laps instead of the seventy we’ll perform in tomorrow.
Then Ash comes into my ears. ‘You’ve got this one, Harper. We’ll monitor the car, just push when I tell you. Eyes on the prize.’
I can see how Kian and Cole have become so symbiotic, as Ash’s words perk me up and reassure me that I’ve got this.
And I do. It’s lights out and I’m burning rubber.
