Page 27 of Away We Go

Nicky has just won the Japanese Grand Prix, and he’s currently standing on the top step, his trophy in one hand and hisVortex Motorscap in the other. Today’s race went a lot smoother than last week, with Nicky leading from start to finish. Watching him up there now, he feels unstoppable, unbeatable.

It’s like he’s harnessed all the good luck in the world and is taking it with him over the twenty-one races in this year's calendar. At least, that’s what he alluded to in his post-race interview.

“Every race requires a lot of strategy and, of course, skill,” he’d said in response to the commentator’s question about the secret behind his hat trick success to kick off the year. “But there’s always a bit of luck that comes into it. Maybe this year, I’ve got a good luck charm with me.”

The crowd had gone wild as he winked at them with his signature smirk, and Serena had given me a predictable look. A look that screamed ‘he thinks you’re his good luck charm.’

Utter nonsense.

“We should go out tonight,” she says to me now as the podium celebrations die down and the top three drivers are whisked away to do more interviews.

I look at my watch. We’ve all been here at the track since the early morning and I know I should be tired, but the adrenaline from the race win is a high like no other and I’m keen to get out and celebrate the team’s victory.

“Count me in!”

We walk back down the pit lane and I snap a few photos along the way. These are the moments between moments; the mechanics wheeling away tyres and other car parts. The fans still sitting in the grandstand trying to soak in the last bits of the race weekend. The members of the press pack congregating to pull together their last-minute notes. It’s the culmination of the theatre that is an F1 race weekend, and it too deserves to be photographed in all its glory.

As it turns out, the followers of myCherry’s Cornerpage agree, seeming to respond to these photos the most. Well, after any photo of Nicky. For those, they flock in droves to press that love heart icon.

“Hey.”

Serena and I come to a halt in front of theVortex Motorsgarage. Nathan Jackson—our team’s biggest rival—is standing where Nicky’s car is usually parked when he’s not racing. Nathan is currently second on the driver’s championship ladder and he finished fifth in today’s race, crossing the finishing line twentyseconds behind Nicky. And he’s now standing in front of us, looking at us—atme—with intense interest.

“Hi.” My cheeks feel hot and I admonish myself. So what if this man in front of me is stupid hot? Most of the F1 drivers are. He is Nicky’s rival, his nemesis. He all but stole the championship from him last year. And so, he is not the man for me to admire, even from a distance.

“You’re Cherry, right?” My toes curl at his posh British accent. Who knew I had a thing for men speaking English with an accent? Between Patrick and now Nathan, I’m swooning for any man who doesn’t sound like home.

Well, except for Nicky. I’d swoon over him, even if he was mute.

“Yes?” I answer his question with one word that sounds like a question. Like I don’t know if Cherry is my name.

My face is now on fire.

“I’m just going to go…” Serena spears me with a look and walks backwards away from me, while I plead with my eyes for her to not leave me. “Meet me later?”

I nod in defeat. The girl will not save me from this conversation. I’ll just have to figure out my way through it.

“I’m Nathan,” he says now, his eyes bouncing between me and my friend’s disappearing back.

My lips twitch. He’s introducing himself to me? The man who won the World Championship last year and was voted the tenth sexiest sportsman of the year? I may have memorised his photo as well.

“I know.”

He grins, a smile so bright I have to look away.

We don’t like him. Remember that, Cherry.

“Great. Now that we know each other, you’ll have to tell me a bit about this good luck charm Nicky has with him this season.”

I peer up at him through my lashes. He’s beautiful to look at, with lightly tanned skin, dark blond hair and designer stubble. His eyes are the clearest shade of blue and right now they are looking for trouble.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” I move away from him towards the hospitality area and, to my dismay, he follows.

“Well,” he drawls. “Nicky seems to be on another level this year, and I’m just wondering if you know anything about it.”

“About his good luck?” I stop walking and face him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t mind a bit of good luck myself.”

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