Queen of the Grid

|Odette|

~~**~~

I shifted nervously from foot to foot as I watched the intense gray thunderclouds gathering above us. A familiar feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach. I felt like this before every one of my father’s races. We were in Spa, Belgium. Currently waiting for the final race of the 2014 Formula 1 season to start.

As if sensing my unease, my father, who had been talking to the team engineer, turned to look at me. His eyes were almost the same warm amber color as mine, they crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and just like that some of the dread I’d been feeling earlier melted away. That was the thing about my dad, his presence just instantly made you feel safe and at ease.

“What’s the matter my sweet girl, why do you look so sad?” His eyes twinkled, “Scared your dad doesn’t have what it takes to be the World Champion again?” He teased.

“You’ve been the reigning Champion for almost a decade now, Dad.” I smiled. “You’re the best driver in the world.”

He laughed, “Someday your kid will say the same thing to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m still racing go-karts, Dad,” I grumbled. “You already had F4 teams lining up for you to drive for them when you were my age.”

It was my second year of go-kart racing, and I was still the only girl in my league. I had managed to win six out of the twelve races this year, and despite his busy schedule, my father had shown up for each one.

“They will come when they are ready for you, my love.” He squeezed my chin between his thumb and forefinger affectionately, “Just remember, whatever you decide to do in life, whether it’s motor racing or something else, make sure you do it with passion. The minute you feel the spark die and your heart dim, that’s when you know it’s okay for you to walk away.”

“Dean Rhodes!” a familiar female voice called out. I straightened as I saw my mother’s lithe frame come into view. She wore a form-fitting maroon suit. As usual, her hair was slicked back into a bun, with not a single strand out of place. She held a microphone in her hand, her camera crew following close behind.

Her mouth thinned out in disapproval at the sight of me. The baggy gray sweats and worn-out Converse weren’t something she would approve of her daughter wearing at a public event like this.

Thankfully, she didn’t say anything. Her attention turned to my father, her ex-husband.

“Are you feeling confident about today’s race, Dean?” She asked in her silky smooth voice as the cut-throat reporter inside her took over.

“Of course.” My father answered with his signature charming smile.

“If you win today, it will be your tenth year as a world champion. You will go down in history as one of the greats. A decade-long reign is unheard of in this sport. You will undoubtedly become the king of Formula One racing.” She continued, “But this is the last Grand Prix of the season andFalken’sstar rookie Khai Sylvan has already managed to beat you in the last two races, if he wins this race your reign as the world champion will come to an end this year.”

I bristled at that. It was true that Falken Racing’s new driver had taken the Formula 1 world by storm. This was his debut season, and at just eighteen years old, he’d managed to win multiple races and break countless records. In his Rookie year as an F1 driver, he’d already become my father’s toughest competitor, which was impressive, to say the least. But Rookie of the Year or not, I knew Khai Sylvan was no match for my father.

My father laughed good-naturedly. “Winning is a nice bonus, I’m not going to lie, but at the end of the day, I’m just here to take part in a sport that I love.”

“Thank you, Dean.” My mother said in her usual cool tone. To the public, they’d had an amicable divorce eight years ago but the truth was that once the divorce was final, my mother had never looked back. She wasn’t a part of our lives, we barely even talked. She hadn’t even bothered fighting for custody of me, her only child. It was my dad who’d insisted that I spend a weekend with her every month. I jokingly called it ′the weekend of doom’.Jokes aside, that weekend somehow always turned out to be the worst two days of the month and I even though I felt guilty about it I almost always found myself hoping that my mother would be busy and end up canceling my visit altogether which to my benefit actually happened quite often.

“Hey, Ruth! Look who it is!” One of the cameramen signaled wildly towards something behind us.

I turned just in time to see Khai Sylvan stepping out of theFalkengarage. He was already dressed in his full kit with his helmet clutched in one hand.

I found myself taking him in. He was lean but well-built, and his raven hair fell in waves over his forehead. It was no secret that he was good-looking, but when you’d been around race-car drivers since you were in diapers, you kind of got used to their beauty and learned to just shrug it off—most of the time.

I watched my mom corner him as she practically shoved her mic into his face. I felt a pang of sympathy for him. He seemed to be a quiet person who kept mostly to himself, and from what I’d seen so far he seemed to despise the media or any kind of attention on himself altogether.

Not that I went out of my way to notice him or anything.

I watched his face tilt toward where we were standing as his piercing grey eyes settled on my father. My mother must have said something about him, I concluded. Suddenly, his gaze collided with mine, and I felt my breath hitch. I’d been caught staring, and my cheeks heated in embarrassment. His expression grew bored as he turned his attention back to my mother, and finally, I could breathe easily again.

He was just a couple of years older but he was multitudes ahead of me. Whereas I’d just started the seemingly long trek up the motor-racing mountain he’d already planted his flag at the summit. I would have been lying if I said it didn’t bother me. I was Dean Rhodes’s daughter, after all, competitiveness was in my blood.

“Dean, it’s time. You need to get changed and ready so we can get you on Grid.” The lead engineer responsible for overlooking my dad’s car jogged towards us disrupting my thoughts.

I followed behind them as they headed towards theAmaterasugarage.

Thunder boomed, this time it was so loud that I felt the ground shake.

The uneasy feeling from earlier returned.

~~**~~

The Umbrella I was holding up was practically useless as the rain pelted down in heavy sheets. The strong gusts of winds made it hard to keep balance. Even the sound of the engines was drowned out by the roar of thunder.

My heart raced as I caught sight of the familiar streak of red—my father’s car—blazing across the racetrack from where I stood behind the iron fence watching. I frowned when I noticed the glint of silver milliseconds behind him.

Khai’s car.

From the corner of my car, I saw Haru Saito, the team principal hurrying into the Amaterasu garage. A folder clutched over his head as he tried to shield himself from the downpour. I made a beeline for the garage myself.

The team mechanics were seated in their chairs their eyes glued to the race playing on the flat-screen television mounted on the wall in front of them.

“Did you talk to them? Did you tell them that the race should be stopped in this weather? What did they say?” I bombarded Haru with questions as soon as I stepped in.

Haru was in his late fifties with salt and pepper hair and kind eyes. Even though I was only 15 he always took me seriously and showed me respect.

He shook his head in exasperation making my heart sink

“I tried to explain to them how it’s not safe for the drivers to be racing in this weather but they kept insisting that there were only ten laps left.” He sighed, “When I tried to put some more pressure on them they told me that I was afraid that Sylvan was going to beat Rhodes and take the World Championship since he drives better on a wet track.”

I could feel raw unadulterated anger bubble up in my chest. “How dare they say that!” I spat out. “I was standing outside in the rain for half an hour. It’s raining so hard that it’s impossible to see a couple feet in front of you when you’re standing still let alone being able to make out a racetrack in a car moving 200 miles per hour!”

Haru gave me a sympathetic look, “I know. It’s sad how sometimes the federation just views this sport as a source of entertainment and forgets that there are actual people in those cars risking their lives on track every day.”

I was about to respond but suddenly there was a screeching noise. A noise I knew all too well, it was the noise tires made when they dragged over asphalt, then there was a beat of silence,deathly silence. Then suddenly the sound of an explosion echoed, shaking the ground.

At first, I thought it was another loud peal of thunder but the room had gone completely silent as all eyes remained glued to the television screen.

“There has been a horrific collision between the Amaterasu and the Falkenrace-cars!” The commentator exclaimed.

I felt like someone had just zapped me with a million volts of lightning. I couldn’t get my lungs to suck in any air. My eyes remained glued to the screen as I watched the silver Falken collide with the back of my father’s car. I watched one of the back wheels fly off and the car spin wildly on the wet track as my father tried to regain control.

“No,” I whispered.

My father’s Amaterasu swerved sharply to the right as it slid over the curb.

“Please no.” I breathed.

I watched paralyzed as my father’s car crashed into the concrete barrier. The sound of the explosion we’d heard earlier echoed on the television screen as I watched the car go up in flames.

~~**~~

My legs seemed to be moving on their own, I didn’t even register that I’d been running towards the barrier.

There was already a crowd gathered there, I pushed through. Thankfully most of them let me pass when they saw who it was.

They’d locked off the portion of the barrier closest to the crash but from where I was standing I could make out the firefighters spraying their fire extinguishers over the still blazing heap of metal that used to be my father’s car. The ambulance was positioned a couple of feet away, waiting.

There was some commotion and I dragged my eyes away from the crash site to see a group of paramedics holding back Khai Sylvan who attempted to rush towards the crash site.

“I can help!” He roared. “Let me help him!”

The man beside him whispered something in his ear that made him go limp, he sunk to the ground like every drop of life had been sucked out of him. He tilted his head up and his gaze met mine, for the second time today.

"I’m sorry.” He mouthed.

I turned my head away from him as I decided to let the numbness take over. I watched blankly as the firefighters attempted to put the fire out.

I’d seen my fair share of Formula One car crashes, and experienced observation had already told me what a crash of this caliber meant. It was a harsh reality that people who had loved ones involved in motorsport racing had to face too often.

In my heart, I knew that too much time had passed. A part of me realized what it meant but I couldn’t bring myself to come to terms with it.

“Odette!” I heard my mother’s scream but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

I felt her hands on my shoulders shaking me gently.

“Oh, Odette. I’m so sorry.” My mother whispered as she pulled me to her. I could feel her tears soaking my hair. I just stayed still in her embrace unable to move. Still numb.

The life I’d known before, died that day with my father.