Page 89 of Away We Go

My gaze switches from the track to the giant screen in front of us as the cars disappear around the bend and out of sight.

“Serena…” I crush her hand in mine and use the other to point at the leaderboard. Nicky’s name, which had been at the top, is tumbling down the order.

Her eyes grow wide. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But—” When this happens, it usually means something has happened. Something bad.

“Just listen.”

The commentators are in a frenzy, stumbling over their words as they narrate what they can see and we can’t.

“Nicky Dimitrios has hit the wall into turn two…we’ve got a red flag.”

“Serena?”

I turn to her in a daze, not knowing what to do next.Nicky crashed his car? Nicky is injured? Nicky is hurt…or worse?

“We don’t know anything…” she repeats in a voice filled with dread.

I look back at the leaderboard now showing Nicky’s name in dead last and swallow a sob.

It looks like my premonition of something bad about today had been right. And watching all nineteen cars minus Nicky’s return to the pit lane, I wonder just how bad it will be.

CHAPTER 18

Cherry

“Why aren’t they showing us the crash?” I cry, staring at the screen and silently begging it to show me an image of Nicky walking away from his car.

Serena links her arm through mine. “You know they won’t show anything until the driver's status is confirmed.”

My eyes bore into hers. I know this; I know they won’t broadcast anything that could be catastrophic.

The ringing in my ears intensifies and I lean into my friend. “Serena…”

She looks at my face and pulls on my arm. “Come on.”

Together we race down to Nicky’s garage, skidding to a halt a few steps away from where Jack, Paul and the rest of the race crew are huddled together.

“He’s okay,” Paul calls when he sees me. “He’s walking out of the car now.”

I slump against the wall behind me, my shaking legs no longer holding me up.

“Is he hurt?” Serena asks, her gaze trained on me.

Paul’s eyes flash to meet mine. “They’re taking him to the local hospital.”

I smother a moan. Usually, after a crash, drivers are taken to the onsite medical centre at the racetrack to get the all-clear. If they’re transporting Nicky to the hospital, they must be concerned about the extent of his injuries.

James bursts into the space and pulls me upright, using his thick arms to shepherd me out of the garage. “Cherry, let’s go.”

I turn back to Serena, who’s covering her worry with a weak smile. “I’ll call you,” I yell over my shoulder.

“He’ll be alright.”

I take her words with me, chanting them over and over as James guides me to his car.

“Try not to worry,” he says, his rough tone belying his words. He’s concerned too. “Nicky’s tough. This isn’t his first race crash.”

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