Chapter 1
It was a random Saturday at the start of the year when Tanja decided to do something completely out of character—attend a go-kart race. She had never found racing particularly interesting, nor did she ever feel the rush that motorsports enthusiasts talked about. But that day, boredom won, and she found herself standing by the track, surrounded by the roaring sounds of engines and the scent of gasoline in the air.
And that was when she saw him.
His name was Allen. She didn’t know it yet, but she knew she couldn't take her eyes off him. Number 17. That’s what she would remember him by. He moved with a quiet confidence, his focus entirely on the race ahead. The way he maneuvered his kart, the determination in his stance—it all fascinated her. For the first time, she wasn’t just watching a race; she was feeling it. Every turn, every acceleration, every move he made filled her with excitement.
But just as quickly as he had entered her world, he was gone. She never spoke to him, never asked for his name or his number. Life went on, but every now and then, the memory of number 17 resurfaced in her mind. A fleeting thought, a what-if left unanswered.
One Year Later
Another race day was approaching, and Tanja heard about it. The moment she did, something clicked—she still remembered him. Not by name, not by voice, but by that number. Seventeen.
That night, she went to bed with an unshakable feeling in her chest. Excitement? Anticipation? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she would be there, standing by the track once again, hoping to see him.
The next day, the sun was warm, the sky clear, and her heart… calm. It wasn’t nerves she felt as she walked through the pit area; it was joy, pure and simple. And then, as if fate had planned it all along, she saw him.
He was in his racing suit, adjusting his gloves, completely unaware of the way her breath hitched at the sight of him. His brown hair tousled slightly in the breeze, his green eyes focused, his expression soft yet determined. He hadn’t changed at all, and yet, he seemed even more captivating than before.
This time, she wouldn’t let him slip away.
She followed him, staying close without being intrusive. Every time he passed by, her heart raced just a little faster. She sat as close to the tracks as she could during the race, watching his every move, holding her breath at every turn.
After the first heat, they finally spoke. It was brief, shy, filled with small smiles and nervous glances. But it was something. The kind of something that hinted at the beginning of more.
When it was time for his second heat, she followed him up to the very last point before he had to step onto the track. A part of her wanted to hug him for good luck, to feel even just a moment of closeness, but shyness got the better of her. Instead, she raised her fist in a small, hesitant bump. He met it with his own, a knowing smile playing at his lips before he walked away.
The second race ended, and as he returned to the pits, she stood among the crowd, waiting—not for just any racer, but for him. And when he passed by, she reached out for a high five, her heart soaring when his hand met hers.
The day was slipping away, and with one race left, she knew this was her last chance. She barely gave him time to catch his breath before she blurted out the words that had been burning on her tongue all day:
"Can I have your number?"
For a split second, he looked at her—surprised, amused, and something else entirely. Then, with a smile that sent warmth flooding through her chest, he gave it to her.
The final race came, and Allen took the track one last time. She watched, holding onto the phone with his number like a promise, and when he won, she wanted nothing more than to run up to him, to share in his excitement. But instead, she kept herself calm, managing only a soft, "Good race," as he entered the pits.
And then, the day was over.
Allen lived in another town, and as they parted ways, there was an unspoken uncertainty between them. Would this be the end again? Or was this the real beginning?
That night, the first message came. Then another. And another.
They weren’t sure what the future held, but one thing was certain—this time, they weren’t letting go. And the two grew more love for each other than one could've imagine.
