***
Her head hurt.
In front of her, steam lifted itself skyward until it was sucked into her nose as she inhaled. The crisp scent of coffee went to battle with the lethargic slug that was her hangover.
The slug won.
Shay gritted her teeth in anger. This, this was a fight she could win. Bringing the piping-hot mug to her mouth, she slurped down some of the liquid, providing reinforcements.
The caffeine hit her like a sledgehammer, so hard that Shay thought she could actually feel her pupils dilate.
“Whoa,” she muttered into her empty mug, setting it down carefully as her hand began to shake from the sudden infusion of energy.
Around her the world seemed to cast off its cover of gray, color returning in a vibrant wave that threatened to lift her mood out of the black hole it currently resided in. In front of her, she eyed the scattered papers again, wondering if she now had the strength of spirit to go through them with the fine-tooth comb that would be necessary.
Shay would, there was no doubt of that in her mind. She had to. Hidden somewhere within them was what she sought. Another race, another stop on one of the several low-level circuits that she frequented that would give her a shot. Another attempt at rising back to the level she had once known. The only question, was where?
The chair across from her squeaked as someone pulled it across the floor, then groaned as the person sat.
“I didn’t see you come in,” she said as Dan pulled himself up to the table.
He snorted. “You were face-deep in your morning wake-me-up. I doubt you would have noticed a dinosaur wandering past.”
Shay smiled. She liked Dan. He was a good man. Rough around the corners and with a short temper, but honest and generally oriented on doing the right thing. That was why she employed him.
Like now. He was right; she was wrapped up in her coffee and the papers in front of her. Sitting up a little straighter, she looked around, taking in the little coffee shop as if for the first time. It was small, buried right in the middle of the pit itself, only several dozen feet from the track. Around her, other racers or their crews sat in small clumps at the black-and-white checkered tables, their own wire-mesh chairs pulled up close.
The difference was that they would be looking at race data and discussing changes to be made for the next day’s actual race. Shay was looking at another race. Any other race, really.
“I finished assessing the damage with Mikko,” Dan said at last.
Mikko was her chief mechanic. Well, really her only mechanic. Dan knew his way around the cars and was a big help, but Mikko was the one that made it so that she could actually go out and race.
“And?” she asked hesitantly as another racing crew came through the door, the little bells chiming their entrance. One of them caught her looking and nodded respectfully at her. She nodded back, then turned her attention back to Dan.
“I think we can get you back on the track,” he said.
Shay knew him. If Dan said he thought it could be done, it could be done. That was great, except…
“Dan,” she began.
“Don’t say it,” he said immediately, holding up his hand to forestall any further words from her mouth. “You’ll be fine. We’ll proceed to the Tusco, and you’ll qualify, and it’ll be fine,” he said firmly.
Shay shook her head. Oh Dan. Always so positive, her own personal cheerleader, never willing to let her get down.
“We’re not going to Tusco,” she said softly.
Dan frowned. “Why not? It’s the next stop. We have three weeks to get everything in top shape before then.” He smiled. “Come on Shay, it’ll be fine. We’ve been through worse.”
Despite herself, she smiled, though it wasn’t a happy one. “Dan,” she said, her spine straightening.
His eyes narrowed as he saw the change in her body language and the tone of her voice registered. “What is it, Shay? What aren’t you telling me?”
“This was it, Dan. They sent me a letter. If we didn’t qualify today, that was our third in a row.” She sighed. “We’re done, Dan. They shut us down.”
Dan sat back into his chair, thoughtful.
She eyed her empty coffee mug while waiting for him to gather his thoughts.
“Okay,” he said at last. “So we shut it down. Retool. Resume our search for a sponsor maybe, and we hit the ground rolling when next season starts.”
Shay smiled, but shook her head. “Dan.” She caught herself, feeling her throat tightening up with emotion as she tried to speak.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
The pattern repeated itself several times until she felt confident the next words would come out without her breaking down in tears.
“You’re great, Dan. It’s been a pleasure to have you on the team.” Shay sighed. “But I can’t afford to keep you on anymore. Our funds are gone. I’m broke.” Her heart shattered into pieces as she watched him process the implications.
Shay was effectively firing him and the rest of her small team, even if she didn’t have a choice. It was a terrible thing to do, but there was no other way around it. She thanked her lucky stars that her entire crew was sought after by other drivers, and would not spend very long unemployed, if they even spent any at all.
“Oh.” That was all he said at first. They had been working together for five years now. He didn’t need to say any more than that to convey his feelings. Then, “What will you do?”
“I thought I’d find somewhere else for us to go,” she said with a nod. “That was until I looked at the bank account. Now?” She laughed, a shaky, nervous thing. “Now I don’t know.”
Dan frowned. “Why don’t you go find your father?”
Shay almost said no without thinking, but something made her hesitate. For several months now, her missing father had been weighing on her mind.
You don’t even know if he’s missing. He could just be going through another one of his uncommunicative streaks. It’s not like he hasn’t done that before. Like, oh I don’t know, the first eighteen years of your life? What’s six months without an email?
It was nine months now, including the three she had been thinking about going to find him. It wasn’t quite that simple though.
Shay had never really had a relationship with her father, a man who had been an enigma for most of her childhood. Even now, the past five years had been filled with sporadic visits and even more random email updates.
“Maybe,” she said at last, hedging her thoughts carefully.
Dan just smiled. She hated how he could often know what she was going to do before she did it.
He’s who I wish my father had been. Big beard and even bigger booming laugh, and he carefully looks out for me while trying not to appear like he is.
“Thank you,” she whispered, accepting his approval of her choice.
“I’ll tell the others,” he said. She smiled, gathering up to give him a hug.
“No, Dan. They’re my team. I’ll tell them,” she said, though she was appreciative of the offer.
“So,” he asked as she tossed the sheets together into a pile, putting down some change to cover her cup of coffee as well. “Where do you start?”
Shay frowned. “The last email he sent mentioned something about a place called King City and a possible interview as a Group Protection Plan member, whatever the hell that means.”
Dan smiled, putting his arm around her in a familial gesture. “It’s going to be good for you,” he said. “You’re going to have fun. Trust me.”
She hoped he was right.