Born To Run: A Counterpoints Novella Read online

  I wasn’t going to let her off so easily. I was the instructor, she was the trainee. Besides, she did this really entertaining ‘pursing of the lips and looking down at her hands’ thing, that I found incredibly entertaining. Cruel I know, but it was too good to pass.

  “You’re sorry about what? Because you called me an ‘asshole’?” call me crazy, but I was actually enjoying being called that, particularly by a good-looking woman like Vera.

  I was a sick man, I had ‘asshole syndrome.’

  “Because I said it to your face,” she grinned and she got a chuckle out of me.

  She’s got guts and no reserves.

  What could I say? I liked a tough girl, but I had boundaries to preserve, so I just smiled a little and went on with my usual ‘first day speech’ to the trainee.

  “You’ll never call me that again, not until you start winning races, Championships. Then maybe, eventually, I’ll let you call me something other than Noah,” I kept my eyes on her, making sure she got the message. Making sure we had a deal.

  She nodded and looked down at her hands.

  Good.

  “Now, in the next couple of weeks you’ll do exactly what I tell you to do. You’ll eat what I say, you’ll sleep when I tell you to and you’ll exercise with me every day. We need to strengthen your body, your neck. You had no proper physical training before, am I right?”

  She nodded and I made sure to write her down for a beginner’s program.

  Time, we didn’t have much but we’d work with what we had.

  I made sure Vera understood me perfectly well, made sure she knew what was coming. When the time was right, I’d put her in a car, I’d let her use the simulator with the rest of the trainees but until then, she had to follow my every word.

  “I don’t have time to waste, I hope that’s clear,” I said, letting her know I was giving her two weeks to show me she was worth it, that she was worthy of the Academy.

  Vera was sitting on a hot seat, she needed to show me it was hers or someone else would come along and snatch it from her.

  “Can I just say something, Mr Laurent?” she asked me, walking fast on the treadmill.

  I nodded and almost laughed in her face.

  “You can’t go from asshole to Mr Laurent. Call me Noah.”

  “Okay Noah. I am not here to waste your time. Not at all. I want you to know that I will put all my energies into this. Being here is a dream come true, nobody ever took me seriously and I am not going to throw all of this away,” she paused and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “What I am trying to say is that I won’t let you or Christopher down, but I want a fighting chance at this. I want to be taken seriously and I don’t want to be treated differently from the other drivers. I am sick and tired of being treated differently, that’s why I snapped before and I am really sorry. But you must understand where I’m coming from. I’ve been told most of my life I’m never going to get anywhere with this, I’ve been called names, ‘the Bitch’ just because I am a woman. I don’t want to be called anything, but race driver. I want people to see me for what I can do, not for what I look like. And I am not going to let people tell me what I can or cannot do. Are you going to take me seriously?” she asked at the end and I took a good look at her.

  Motivation was there, no doubt about it. But was Vera tough enough? Was she determined? Was she good enough?

  “You do know why Christopher assigned me to you, right?” I said and didn’t wait for her answer. I knew she did. Because she was a lost cause, just like I had been back in the day.

  “He believes you can do this, so I am giving you a shot, but I am not going to go soft on you. And I won’t lie to you, never. It won’t be easy. If my career was all uphill, yours is full of bumps, scary bends and obstacles along the way. And some obstacles you won’t be able to jump. They might stop you.”

  Vera straightened up, eyed me to the side but kept her pace on the treadmill. Her eyes went to the mirror in front of her, to her reflection, then back at me.

  I knew my words had hit her, the truth nothing but the truth. I never lied about these things.

  Breaking the rules was my speciality, but there was one rule I never broke and that was being upfront and honest. Always, no matter the price. I didn’t give a damn if my words hurt someone, the truth always hurt anyway. But eventually, my honesty would hurt less than lies.

  “What should I do then? Give it all up? Not even try? Let people stop me?” she spoke the words like they hurt her mouth. Vera frowned, her jaw twitched.

  “I didn’t say that, either. But I want you to put up a wall, a shield, don’t let things get to you. You need to be tough, not just physically but emotionally, if you want to succeed here.”

  “I will,” she nodded. “I can’t give this up.”

  “Why? Why can’t you give it up?” I pressed on.

  I wanted to hear it, hear her motivation. Why was she ready to put herself through all that?

  Nobody was going to make it easy on her.

  “Because it makes me feel alive. It makes me feel indestructible. I feel like a predator when I am behind the wheel. I want to be the fastest, the most aggressive and competitive one of them all. I want to breathe the excitement of finishing the race first. This is what I want to do. Should I let others decide what I can or cannot do? Tell me, did you let others decide about your future?” Vera’s voice almost failed her in the end because she knew, she knew who she was talking to.

  I had been a fighter too, never had taken shit from anyone. When the problem had been money, I had found the sponsors to support me, showing that I was an ace. That I deserved to be there. I had pushed my way into the sport, with insolence and determination. And I never apologized for wanting it all, for being who I was.

  And Vera wanted the same thing. She didn’t want to apologize for what she was, for what she wanted. She didn’t care if racing was traditionally just for men.

  “I want what’s mine,” she said then, pressing stop on the treadmill. “I want to race for a top team one day, that is what I want. My future. Are you going to help me with this or not?”

  I stared at her as she rubbed her small, delicate face with a towel and smirked.

  That angel face, she was no angel. She was a predator.

  “You had me at Bitch,” I said and she laughed.

  Vera

  When Noah said he wouldn’t go easy on me, he wasn’t kidding.

  After just two days of training, my legs hurt like hell. I had cramps every night, no matter how many food supplements I took but I kept quiet, never said a single word about it. He kept pushing me, one step further every day and I never complained. I’d asked him to treat me like any other driver, I could do it.

  I can do this, I told myself whenever I felt like stopping.

  “Race driver Vera Evans,” I said every morning, hand up waving to the imaginary crowd, just before our usual jog around the facility.

  Noah gave me a funny look each time.

  “What? I am working on my entrance,” I said to him one morning. “A girl can dream right?” I grinned and kept my legs up, my feet steady during the run, repeating those same words in my head. Again and again.

  He laughed and shook his head, like I had just made a funny joke or something.

  “Oh my god, I made you laugh. He knows how to smile. He knows how to laugh, it's a miracle!” I teased and Noah chuckled, but he quickly regained his natural composure. Back straight, no more laughing, no more joking around. I mimicked his serious face but he didn't catch me playing.

  “I laugh, only when it's funny,” he told me, as we started our warm up.

  “You think, I am funny? Thank you,” I smiled.

  “I meant your face, your face is hilarious when you do that victorious entrance bit,” he grinned and I cursed under my breath.

  Asshole, I snickered.

  I didn't care what he said, what anyone said. I kept repeating those same words in my head every day.

&
nbsp; Race driver Vera Evans, Race driver Vera Evans. It sounded absolutely amazing.

  Every morning, I arrived on track at six am sharp. Not one second later, sometimes earlier but no matter how early I was, Noah was always there before me, same concealed expression on his face, like he couldn’t care, like nothing in the world bothered him.

  Under that cold façade, I wondered if the Noah I had heard about in First Category Racing – the one that slammed his helmets everywhere when things went wrong, the one that shouted, the one that snapped at journalists- was still there somewhere, hiding or if life had simply changed him.

  He was thirty-six, he'd been away from races for over two years and still he had the body and energy of an athlete. Noah was there, side by side, jogging with me every morning, cycling uphill, going through all the cardio effortlessly.

  I was ashamed and I would’ve never admitted it but I was having a hard time, trying not to check him out. Tall, slender and muscular, short dark brown hair, sharp jaw and steely eyes, slightly greying at the sides. How could I not look?

  Hot, until he opens his mouth and then he’s a douche all over again, I snickered.

  Douche or no douche, I had been a bad girl.

  During our morning cardio, I’d checked him out. I kept telling myself his charm had to do with him being a race champion, but I had been naughty and lingered one too many times at his arm, his strong chiselled arm.

  He kept exercising, I realized staring at two drops of sweat, running down his shoulder.

  He was fit. I was the one struggling, but I kept my mouth shut and didn’t give him any hints.

  Think about the training. Focus. The training will pay off, I thought, pushing the hair out of my face.

  “Today you’ll join the group I am training at the simulator,” Noah announced while we were stretching.

  I looked up, my hands still tight around my ankles, and smiled, my face must have been so bright I saw Noah’s expression change. He seemed content.

  I straightened up immediately and took a deep breath, the excitement was palpable. Seven days had gone by since I had set foot in the Academy with Christopher’s blessing, seven days of training alone with Noah – no driving, no tests, no simulator, just physical activity and loads of theory.

  Check, check, check. I had done everything right without complaining but he’d asked what was on my mind a couple of times.

  “So, when can I like drive? You do know this is the reason I am here, right?” I'd said to him and laughed a little, wrinkling my nose.

  “When I say so,” he had told me again and again, holding back a grin.

  Torture, yes it was torture seeing the other drivers race on track, go to classes and use the whole facility for their training.

  But Noah had explained to me one very important thing: unlike me, those drivers were used to being trained.

  “They have been trained since they were six or seven, most of them anyway. You need to strengthen your legs, your neck. Who trained you?” he had made his point.

  “Well,” I had scratched my head a little. “My dad at the beginning, when I was ten. But then I did it all on my own,” I admitted.

  Nobody had really told me what to do and for how long. I had just watched the other kids and tried to do what they did. I ran a lot, cycled, tried to make my arms and legs stronger. During races and training on track, I had learned how to fix my kart thanks to my dad. That was all. Nobody had told me what to do, so I had done my best. Always tried at least.

  “Really? I can use the simulator with the guys?” it was the first thing I asked, my face so expectant Noah was quick to nod.

  “Yay,” I grinned and untied my hair. I let it dangle down my shoulders for a second before fixing it back up in a neat ponytail.

  Noah looked away, his eyes were back on the glass building, and cleared his throat.

  “If you progress over the next week, I will put you on that course. We will still exercise early in the morning, to catch up with the rest. We’re setting up a tournament in a few weeks,” he told me for the first time.

  My head snapped in his direction immediately.

  “A tournament?”

  Noah nodded.

  “Christopher sets them up, he invites everyone he knows in auto racing and a few drivers are selected to join minor categories. Two of our drivers went into Third Category Racing last month.”

  Third Category Racing, my head was spinning. Oh my god, yes.

  I swallowed hard, as I thought of what the tournament would be like and what it would mean for me. My first chance to be spotted by someone- scouts, managers.

  Managers will be there, oh my god.

  I could feel the butterflies in my stomach already. My chance, this was my chance. I knew it. All I needed to do from that moment on till the tournament, was train. No going out, no parties, nothing besides racing.

  We walked into the building, side by side and in silence, I was lost in my own little world. I knew the tournament would be the only thing on my mind for the next week. That and the fact that I wanted to beat them all, the other drivers. I wanted to shine, show everyone how good I was.

  We stopped just outside the door of the simulator and Noah took me by the shoulders, looking down at me. I felt a shiver run down my arms, as we locked eyes.

  “Put your walls up, put your shield on,” he said out of the blue.

  “What?” I stared at him, a little off guard.

  “They will ignore you, they’ll say you are not good enough. Remember who you are, remember who you are,” Noah said but in that moment, I didn’t know what he was referring to.

  The other drivers? The tournament? The managers or the journalists?

  I didn’t ask what he’d meant, but I didn’t have to wait so long to find out. His words made perfect sense to me the moment we stepped inside the simulator.

  “Hey, we finally get to see a grid girl,” one of the drivers said and the room filled with laughter.

  Wankers, all of them. I frowned.

  Chapter 3

  Vera

  Noah was talking, his back to the simulator, and I wish I’d been listening. I pretended I was, but out the corner of my eye, I saw them. The twats, snickering and staring at me like I was some sort of a joke, a freak straight from the circus.

  Ignore the little jerks, I thought to myself but still I looked their way a couple of times and Noah caught me staring.

  “Alright, you two. Out,” Noah grunted and pointed to the door, his deep voice so unexpected I jumped.

  He was glaring at the two idiots and they weren’t laughing anymore.

  Fun is over.

  They were walking out of the room, mumbling something, trying to talk their way out of the situation.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Noah snapped and they went quiet. “You are wasting my time, go laugh outside. And grow the hell up.”

  I grinned and waved a little at the guys, just as they closed the door behind them.

  Sod off.

  Then Noah turned to the rest of us and his piercing eyes searched the room. Nice and slow.

  “Anyone else here wants to join their friends outside? Anyone?”

  Nobody was breathing. Nobody dared to make a sound.

  Noah was demanding. He was cold, he was strict and bloody serious about his job. He didn’t scare me or put me off, I was serious about being there, too. I was no joke.

  “Now, Vera has never tried this before, so I want her to watch you guys do it first,” he went on, giving me a side glance.

  I nodded and watched carefully as the other drivers took their turns at the simulator. One by one, they all completed their tasks, taking turns and waiting for Noah’s feedback at the end of each session.

  It was my turn, I was up next and my legs started to shake when Noah called out my name.

  Slowly I walked over to the simulator, brushing the seat with the tip of my fingers before sliding in. It was like a car, it resembled the perfect First Category race ca
r.

  I eyed everything meticulously, like I was exploring some sort of forbidden treasure.

  I am sitting in a race car, well a mock-up of a real race car.

  “I want you to take it slow, Vera. You’ll have two warm up laps, then you have a fast lap,” Noah explained to me, kneeling down as I adjusted the straps over my chest, fastening them tight to the seatbelt.

  I nodded, as he went on explaining how everything worked. I never interrupted him, made sure I listened, my throat had suddenly gone dry, my hands were a little shaky on the wheel.

  Everyone’s staring at me in here, everyone’s waiting for me to fail, I realized feeling all those eyes on me.

  “Are you okay?” he lowered his voice and I turned his way.

  “Everything is fine,” I whispered, my eyes softening. “You didn’t have to protect me like that before,” I started to say. “But thank you.”

  Noah nodded and tapped his fingers on the side of the vehicle.

  “You’re welcome. Now, don’t be nervous,” he murmured again. “It’s like driving on track, only you get to try out different things at once. You’ll do fine, remember what I told you outside.”

  And I did, every single word he’d told me.

  Forget they are watching, forget they want you to fail, shield up. I am alone. Nobody is watching, I shrugged off the uneasiness and gripped tighter on the wheel.

  “Ready?” Noah asked, snapping me out of my haze.

  I pushed every silly doubt out of my head.

  “I am ready,” I glanced at him with a nervous smile on my lips and watched him nod.

  “Do your best, don’t stress. It’s your first time,” then to the rest of the group he said “We all know what it’s like the first time, don’t we?”

  They all mumbled something, I didn’t understand and I didn’t really care.

  I was in a simulator, I was practicing set ups and tracks like a pro.

  Race driver Vera Evans.

  “Which circuit would you like?”

  “Can I choose?” I turned and smiled at him, my heart in my throat. “Cannes, please,” I didn’t even hesitate.

  Cannes was my dream, my favourite race track, my favourite race of the year.