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I turn to Elle and place my helmet on the seat of the car.
“He heard, didn’t he?” she questions. I nod. “Shit,” she mumbles.
“Listen, Drake is all talk and no bite. You know this,” I assure her, attempting to assure myself.
“But he looks desperate. Desperate people do strange things,” she responds as the announcer brings us to attention for the national anthem. I shrug my shoulders and listen to the singer.
When that is over, I grab my helmet and jump into the car. Saint appears and tightens the seatbelts. “I’m doing the safety checks today,” he states. I figured he would. He has that alpha vibe about him—in a good way.
“Mic check,” Bud says into my ear. I hear Eric acknowledge, and then I acknowledge. “Very well. Let’s try and have a better showing today, missy.”
“I’ll try my best like I do every race. Give me a good pit strategy,” I counter.
“Drive faster than 150, and I’ll do the rest,” Bud mutters back.
Eric attempts to break up the tension. “Alright, Haisley. Control is stating we will have two laps prior to the green flag. Make sure your switches are where you want them.”
“10-4,” I respond.
“Let’s have a good race.” Eric signs off for the moment. Saint flashes me a thumbs up, and I respond with my own. We’re ready to rock and roll.
The cars file out in single file order from pit road. The pace car is taking us down the front stretch which has a minor turn in it before the track throws us into a sharp left turn and then into a couple of wishy-washy type turns through two and three.
There’s a small straightaway between five and six before we enter the slight turn on seven and the sharp right turn on eight. The back straightaway is a passing zone and potential area to gain places and speed before dropping drivers back into an almost Y-shaped nine, ten, and eleven. The start/finish line is shortly after turn eleven before opening back up on the front straightaway.
It’s an interesting course to say the least. Lots of areas for speed and passing, and lots of tricky corners and braking areas. I’ve only raced this track once in the lower series, but I felt good during practice. I hope we can get good positioning during the race.
“Alright, Haisley, we are going green on the next lap,” Eric radios over the mic.
“Roger that.” I scroll quickly through my screens, familiarizing myself with what I need. The cars start to settle into starting positions on the back straightaway; two by two we line up. I qualified twentieth, which will require a lot of strategy to gain any major spots. A few accidents will be helpful.
I watch the pace car veer off to pit road and the cars in front of me accelerating. I follow suit and shift through the gears hitting about 180mph before turn one. Eric is in my ear letting me know where we are, and where the other cars are in relation, as I navigate through turns two through five. I open up the car passing one more person before braking into turn six.
Tight turn radius with other cars next to me, I press on. I hear Bud barking into the radio, which I ignore for most of the first ten laps. A caution on lap thirty allows us to pit early and gain two spots. “Thank you, guys. Awesome pit,” I tell them as we realign for the restart.
Another late race accident pulls out another caution and moves us up another two spots into thirteenth. The remaining race, about ten laps, doesn’t do me any favors. We ended up fifteenth when all was said and done.
I pull into pit road for final inspection, and the crew meets me at the car. I climb out and remove my helmet, waiting for media. I tend to be a focus after the last couple of races. Rookie woman in the series. It makes me wonder what else they try to find stories on. I’m not the first woman to race in INDY—nope, that was already claimed by several others.
Saint and Mac approach, and Mac holds open his arms. “Bring it in, rockstar,” he says as he pulls me into a hug.
“Thanks. I’ll take top fifteen,” I reply as he loosens his grip on me.
“Each course, you’ll get better and better,” Mac assures me as he excuses himself to meet up with the rest of the crew and handle whatever it is that they do.
Saint is still standing in front of me. “Yes?” I question as I look for Elle.
“Nothing, good driving today. Car felt good?”
“For the most part. Little tweaks next year might help for better consistency. You can only learn so much on the simulator,” I explain as some of the media outlets approach asking for an interview. Saint bows out quietly as I answer questions and fulfill those requirements.
***
Later that night
Elle and I are on the private plane headed back to North Carolina. Both teams are on the flight, so it’s busy. I took the seats in the back with Elle away from most of the pit crew guys, and the furthest away from Drake. I’m not sure if Saint had anything to do with it, but all of our crew sat in the seats in front of me like a body barrier from captain asshole.
“You want to talk now?” Elle whispers.
