Despite some good moments, Heather was getting anxious. Not seeing Rob was actually worse, because she knew that he was out there. Having Josie at the track didn’t make her feel much better, either. She was at work, and Josie couldn’t just hang around the entrance to pit lane all day.
Heather found herself getting nervous as the crowds of people grew into the late morning. The closer to race day, the more fans filled the stands. With eyes constantly scanning the crowd for Rob, Heather’s heart couldn’t calm down.
“You are not having a panic attack.” She faced the concrete wall beneath the stands, whispering the phrase on repeat.
The hand on her shoulder threatened to give her a mild heart attack. She spun around to see the driver backing up, hands raised in fear, eyes wide.
“Woah, I scared you. Shit. I’m sorry.” Chance’s eyes looked to the ground as he backed away.
Heather covered her mouth, maybe to stifle a scream that might escape. “Jesus. What is your problem?”
Shaking his head, Chance said, “I don’t know. I thought you heard me behind you. Sorry, really.”
Heather let out a curt laugh. “There’s cars out there screaming like pissed off banshees. I can’t hear a damn thing,” she said, pointing to the earplugs. Heather leaned back against the retaining wall and shook her head.
Chance stood for a few seconds. “Just wanted to see if you were alright after yesterday.”
Heather came to her senses. No, she was not alright, but like hell she’d admit that. “Yeah. He’s just some baggage I have to carry around.”
“Yeah, I can understand that.” Chance sat beside Heather. He left enough room between them for The Holy Spirit, and Heather had to smile at the small gesture toward making her feel more secure.
Heather remembered Josie’s idea. The negative side of the plan hit her. If Rob saw her spending time with Chance, he might fly off the handle. Heather didn’t know what Rob was capable of, and that scared her.
The smile fell from her face, and Chance noticed. “What’s up?”
After shaking her head, Heather looked to the ground. “Rob.”
“Rob.” He nodded, looking off toward the grandstands
She looked up, meeting his powerful eyes. “Have you ever made a big mistake?”
Chance’s smile shook Heather. She didn’t know how to take it. “Yeah, I’ve made my share of mistakes. I’d be a lot better off today if I had made a few different decisions”
“Like what? You’re a racing driver at the Indy 500. I bet you do just fine.” Heather was struggling pay check to pay check, swimming in student debt and only getting deeper with grad school on the horizon. Most of her two years of organizational psychology would be paid for through loans, and she found it hard to imagine Chance struggling with money with all of his racing.
Chance’s smile fell away. Maybe her voice was a bit too harsh, but his struggle wasn’t like hers. “Come with me.”
“I can’t leave my post.”
He rolled his eyes. “Walk twenty feet with me.” Chance started to head toward pit lane.
After looking around and seeing no race fans heading in through her point of entry, Heather turned to follow Chance. He walked all the way out to the concrete ledge that separated the pit crews from where the cars came to a stop for service.
“There’s sixteen cars down that way.” He turned and pointed up toward turn four. “And another seventeen on that side.”
“Yeah?”
“Half of the drivers, myself included, don’t drive in any other race. Half of those drivers probably don’t get paid. Not enough for a month’s worth of work, that is. And half of that half are even worse off.”
Heather didn’t follow. “Worse than not getting paid?”
“Yeah. There’s probably five or six drivers that actually pay the team for the privilege of driving,” he said, his eyes far away.
“Wait, the drivers pay the team? That’s not fair.”
With a chuckle, Chance responded. “Sure isn’t, but it’s the way the world works. They pay for a shot at stardom. This is one of the most unpredictable races there is. Someone can start from the back row and make it up into the top ten. That means some serious prize money for the team, and maybe even a steady drive for whoever bought the seat.”
Chance stared for a while, and Heather understood the tone in his voice. She spoke low, like they were in church. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
He just nodded.
“That must be so stressful.”
“For some it is. I had a ride at the end of last season, but those stupid mistakes I mentioned ruined that.”
Heather didn’t remember anything from his Wikipedia page about why he stopped racing. The subject felt a bit raw, so she didn’t pry.
“You’re only driving because of your friend’s accident, aren’t you?”
“Yup.”
Heather sighed. “How terrible. I mean, I can’t imagine how you can process that. You’re lucky because he’s unlucky. My blood pressure is soaring just talking about this. I couldn’t handle it.”
Chance started walking along the pit wall, and Heather joined him as he spoke. “The stress is there, for sure. They call us drivers, but we spend so little time in the car. That’s the most stressful part for me. When I’m in the car, everything else fades away, and I feel at peace.”
“Are you telling me that you feel at peace when you’re screaming around this place at two hundred miles an hour?” Heather raised her eyebrows.
Chance nodded. “You’d be surprised. Everything streaks by you on either side, blending into one blur that you forget about. The fans, crews, and all the problems outside.”
The two walked in silence past a few pit crews readying their cars. Heather had never looked at one up close. They passed a florescent green car with part of the engine covering off. Inside, she could see too many wires to count, gold-plated covers, and many other parts she couldn’t identify.
“It’s a little more complex than just turning left four times a lap, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “It gets a little more complex from time to time, but for the most part, we’re glorified taxi drivers.”
Heather jammed an elbow into Chance’s side, causing him to stumble. He played it up, pulling laughter from her, too.
Turning back, she saw that they had walked halfway down the pit straight. “Let’s turn around. I’m trying to earn a living here.”
Chance checked his watch. “Yeah, the final practice before qualifying starts in about ten minutes. I guess I oughtta make a few left-hand turns. I’ve got a pay check to earn, too, right?”
Heather gave him a sad smile as they began to head back to her post. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much did it cost you to buy your ride?”
She was about to retract the question, knowing it was none of her business, but Chance spoke over her. “It cost me everything I had.”