I turn to the other side, moaning because my wrist still hurts like hell. I try to go to sleep, at least for an hour, so I can be more rested as I have a very important race tomorrow. It feels like only a second since I’ve closed my eyes, and the alarm clock is already ringing. I groan sleepily, and fumble for the clock to turn it off. I sit on the edge of the bed, and rub my eyes. I reach for my phone, checking if Ella has called or left any messages.
Nothing. Not a damn thing.
“Shit,” I curse, and stumble toward the bathroom. I’m going to call her after the race. We have a lot of things to clear up. I have a few days off after the race, and I’ll go back home as I promised her. It’s killing me not to hear her velvety voice and her beautiful laughter. Perhaps, if we patch things up, I can convince her to join me at my next race. But right now, I have to put this aside, and focus solely on today’s very important race.
There were a few quick showers this weekend, but otherwise the weather held up. Currently, the sky is cloudy, it’s cold and a bit windy. We’ve just been informed about the temperature of the asphalt, which is lower than it’s ideal for racing, but the weather should be nice, dry, and with the occasional patch of sun. The temperature is 69 degrees Fahrenheit. I’m sitting in a spinning chair, wearing my leathers, and a baseball hat on my head. I’m listening to the last instructions before the race. I fix the sleeve of my leathers and breathe deeply. I got a shot for the pain earlier, and I’m feeling slightly better. I don’t feel the annoying pain anymore, and my wrist is mobile. I’m nervous, but it has less to do with the race, and more with Ella. I can’t stop thinking about her, about what she said. There are some stage nerves, which I welcome, because it helps me perform better. The members of press are walking around, and, smiling, I wave at some camera pointed at me.
The area around the track is full of people, from paddock girls to television crews and teams competing. I’m sitting on my bike with one of the paddock girls holding an umbrella above my head. It’s still cloudy, but the sun is starting to show here and there. They said it’s going to be a dry race, so I have slick tires on my bike. I pray the weather is going to hold up for another hour. I’m wearing sunglasses, and listening to my favorite song on my earphones. But it’s not as uplifting today as it usually is because Ella is constantly on my mind. Not just today, since Friday. I see people are starting to clear the track. Everybody heads to their designated places. It’s time for a warm-up lap. One by one, we start our motorcycles, I do a few zigzags to warm up the tires, and go around the track back to the grid. I had the quickest lap in qualifying, so I’m starting from the pole position again. My hands are gripping the handlebars, hard. I’m watching the red lights intently. As soon as they go out, I’m already on the track, and leave my competitors in the dust. Three laps in, I still am in the lead, but I hear a fellow racer breathing down my neck, trying to overtake me. I round the turns successfully, but I could ride better. I’m making too many small mistakes that could cost me dearly in the end. We’re on our fifteenth lap, and I notice a raindrop on my visor. I curse quietly. In front of me, I see a white flag being waved at the flag marshal post, which means we are allowed to change our bikes - the race has just turned into a wet one, but I decide to ride with this one few more laps. The track doesn’t look too wet yet. The majority of the riders pull into the pits and change machines, and yet, I still hold on to the hope that it won’t start raining harder than it is. On our twentieth lap, it starts pouring. I can feel the tires of my bike skidding from underneath me, but I manage to maintain the balance. I’m still in the lead. When I go into the left corner, my bike goes into a skid as I hit the curb at an awkward angle. I try to find the balance again, but I don’t succeed. I’m thrown over the motorcycle, and I crash to the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I see my bike sliding toward me full speed. There is no way I can move before it hits me. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and I widen my eyes as I extend my hands in defense in front of me. The next moment I feel the motorcycle collide with me. The impact is so severe, I’m instantly enveloped in darkness.
Ella
Even though I told Jake it’s over between us, I’m kicking myself for being so stupid. I finally love someone with all my heart, and in moment of selfishness, I broke things off. Yes, I was only thinking about myself, and the pain I felt when Josh died. So I broke up with him, instead of having to go through something similar again. I didn’t even take his feelings into account. I know he loves me, he has showed it to me a million times, but I let my fear of loss overpower our love for each other, and now I’m regretting it. I should’ve ignored the feelings that overwhelmed me when Jake had an accident and put my fear aside. It has been two days since I told him to live his dreams and forget about me. Two long days. I’m sitting on my couch, eating ice cream from the container, and waiting for the beginning of the French Grand Prix to start. I’m listening to the commentators that are talking while waiting for the race to begin.