Rush: Part One & Two (The Pitstop Series Book 3)

“Come on, Val, push,” Adrian yells, but I’m too exhausted. “The final corner, come on,” he reminds me, and I force my body to cooperate. This is the longest I’ve ever been in the simulator, and every single muscle of mine feels it. Although I have no sense of how much time has passed, I know I’ve never lasted this long. It makes me smile. “Yes, come on!” Adrian cheers when I pass the start and finish line and can finally relax. I take deep breaths to calm my heart, and my brother gives me a soft smack on the helmet. “How do you feel?” he asks as he helps me out of the simulator.

“Like a champion,” I reply, and he grabs my helmet, shaking my head out of excitement.

“As you should! Today you’ve truly worked out harder than I ever could.” This morning, I went for a slow run that he didn’t want to join me on, then we went on to do weights and our routine neck exercises, and lastly, the simulator.

My phone rings in Adrian’s pocket, and I frown when he pulls it out. “Oh, sorry, I thought it was mine,” he informs me innocently, but I reach out to feel his other pocket where his phone is. Adrian gives me an apologetic smile. “Oops?” I grab my phone out of his hand and laugh at my brother while answering the persistent caller.

“Hello?” I say as soon as I pick up.

“Hello, Ms. Romana? This is Colin Reiner. I am the head of the Ferrari driver academy,” he states, and I feel my heart skipping a beat.

“Yes, Mr. Reiner, thank you for getting back to me,” I reply, and Adrian whispers that I should put the call on speaker. We fight over it for a brief moment before he glares at me, and I cave in. Two days ago, when we returned from Bahrain, Adrian and I emailed Mr. Reiner because the Ferrari driver academy is the only one we had not contacted yet.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the news you were hoping for.” I want to punch a wall. Then again, I didn’t expect anything else. “We see great potential in you, but unfortunately, we are unable to take in new drivers at the moment. As soon as a spot becomes available, we will call you,” he assures me, but I only nod.

“Okay, thank you, I appreciate your call.” We hang up, and Adrian squeezes my shoulder. “They’re not going to call again, are they?” He simply shrugs.

“I don’t know, but let’s not give up hope yet.” I can’t help but be disappointed. They have put me on a waitlist, but who is to say they won’t ‘forget’ about me? Plus, I’m almost nineteen, most likely making me the oldest candidate, and I’m a woman. “Hey, it’s not over yet,” Adrian reminds me, but when tears stream down my cheeks, he wraps his arms around me.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

As much as I love my brother, I can’t help the anger I feel toward him at this very moment. He never struggled as I have. It was easy for him. He did his two years in a junior league, scored enough points, and was recruited by Alfa Romeo to race in Formula One. Adrian was never turned away. Instead, he got sponsored and driven toward success. The complete opposite happened to me, and I’ve worked twice as hard as him, something even he admits. Before I push him away, I remind myself that it is not his fault and wrap my arms around him for comfort.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asks, rubbing my back and kissing the top of my head.

“Will you cook dinner for once?” I say, and he chuckles while pulling out of the hug to look at me.

“I think it’d be safer if we order takeout or go for dinner,” he suggests, and I agree with a small laugh. He’s absolutely right. If we want to eat tonight, Adrian cannot be the one cooking. Even James would be a safer choice, and he’s set the kitchen on fire twice in my presence.

Adrian falls asleep ten minutes into our movie, but I can’t sit still. My body is exhausted, but the news from earlier prevents me from relaxing. It’s still early, and I write a quick note for Adrian to let him know I will be at James’. My friend is already waiting for me with open arms when I arrive at his house. I happily walk into them and sigh against his chest.

“Hard day?” he asks, and I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Hard fucking decade,” I reply, and we both burst into laughter. James leads me inside, where he hands me a cup of tea along with a piece of chocolate. I take both with a smile before sharing the news I received earlier. Obviously unsure whether or not it is good information, James leans forward on the counter to grab my hand.

“I have a good feeling about this. Be patient, and I’m sure something will open up,” he assures me, and for the first time tonight, I feel a bit of hope too. James is not often optimistic, and I’m glad he is this time.

“What should we do?” I ask after a while of silence, and a small smile creeps onto his lips.

“Something that’ll cheer you up,” he replies, and I almost jump up and down in excitement. There is no way he’ll do this with me to make me feel better. “Oh yeah,” he promises, and I smile brightly.

“Yes! It’s been forever,” I cheer, and James leads me into the living room, where he gets everything ready before handing me a microphone and letting me pick a song.

Neither of us is great at singing, but it’s not about our skill level. Karaoke is something I’ve always enjoyed very much, but Adrian and James have never cared for it. James, however, will occasionally, especially when I’m upset, pull out the karaoke machine he bought for me and cheer me up.

James’ voice cracks and hits all the wrong notes, but we end up laughing so much, my stomach hurts, and we’re on the floor. I choose one last song, but he, on purpose, sings even worse, and I can’t even manage picking up my microphone to join him. It was a good decision to go to James’ house. I already feel ten times better, and finally, my body feels tired enough to sleep.

“You better stay here, luv. I don’t want you driving when you’re tired,” he says, but I’m already texting Adrian to let him know I’m sleeping here.