Page 13 of Formula Dreams
He drove like a world champion and is positioning Titans Racing to win it all at the end of the season.
Crown Velocity always finds a way to the front and Lex Hamilton took second.
And after him, Ronan Barnes came in third, just edging Reid Hemsworth out in the last lap.
He shouldn’t have made it there, not with that tire call.Not with that sector time.Not with that risk into 130R.
But he did.
He took the outside line with a half-second window and made it stick, flying by Hemsworth in a way that had everyone’s hearts in their throats.
Or so I’ve been told.
I was too far back to see any of it.
I shift my weight, thumb worrying a seam in the palm of my glove.
P13.
That’s what they’ll write next to my name.A completely forgettable number and completely out of the points.
There was no major mistake that had me dropping a total of six places from my start.Just a slow bleed of everything I should’ve done better.After that first lap, maybe I was too careful.Maybe I didn’t push hard enough through traffic.All I know is that when it counted most, I couldn’t close.
Not a failure.Just… not good enough.
Christ, it burns in a way I’ve never felt.What in the hell ever made me think I could compete at this level?
“Hey.”Carlos’s voice cuts through my thoughts, calm and familiar.
I turn to find him standing there, suit half-unzipped and a bottle of water in hand.His hair is damp at the temples, face flushed from the helmet.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt the pity party,” he says gently.
“I’m not having a pity party,” I mutter.
“Sure.Just standing dramatically in the shadows with your race suit on like you’re about to go hide in a closet to suck your thumb.”
Ouch… am I really conveying that?
That earns a dry exhale from me… almost a laugh.
He steps up beside me, resting his elbows on the barricade.We both watch the podium in silence as Nash raises his trophy.
“You did fine, Frankie.”
I cock an eyebrow.“Frankie?”
He nudges my shoulder.“My new nickname for you.Do you like it?”
“I hate it,” I reply truthfully.“And for the record, fine isn’t good enough for me.”
Carlos doesn’t argue and I’m grateful as I don’t have the energy to defend my disappointment.
“I know how much this meant,” he says carefully, perhaps afraid I might explode.“First race.All the pressure.You wanted to prove you belong.”I swallow hard, keeping my eyes pinned on Nash as he presses a kiss to the trophy in his hands.“Starting in the top ten and finishing thirteenth doesn’t exactly scream belonging.”
I turn to look at Carlos.“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
He grins.“You made it through the whole race.A clean run on an incredibly difficult track.You brought the car home in one piece and from what I can tell, you did everything the team asked.And you did that all in your debut race.That’s a win, Frankie.”
