Page 40

Indian place, telling them how I’ve recovered and am cleared for racing again, and asking if they might still want to meet

with me. Kelsie and I had this whole plan of going out to a club and drinking all night to distract me after I sent it, but

before she’d even finished doing her makeup, they e-mailed back.

And they offered to meet with me, next Tuesday.

“What?” my mother says thinly.

My father looks shocked. “They’ve offered you a job?”

“Well—no.” My cheeks color. “I just reached out to see if they would meet with me.”

“Oh.” My mother settles back in her chair. “Well, darling, that’s very nice of them, but that doesn’t mean they have a job

for you.”

“I know that,” I say tightly.

“You should’ve reached out to Porteo, if you wanted to race again,” my father says. “But now they’ve signed that Brazilian

kid, they won’t have a seat for you. I spoke with Carl a while ago, he says he’s the best racer they’ve ever had.”

Kelsie’s head snaps up, her expression indignant. She holds up the “Unreasonable” note and taps it furiously.

“Why are you talking to Carl?” I snap. Carl is the team boss at Porteo.

My father frowns. “Carl is an old friend. He reached out to see how you were doing.”

Oh he did, did he? I grind my teeth together. I guess he didn’t bother mentioning they’d turned me down.

“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t get your hopes up,” my father says.

“And are you really well enough to race?” my mother adds. “I think you’d find it a lot harder than you realize, getting back

in a car after what happened to you.”

“I’m not scared of racing. The crash was shitty luck—”

“Please don’t swear.”

“—but what do you want me to do, go around being scared the rest of my life? I could get hit by a bus walking out of the apartment

tomorrow, or get cancer or something. I want to race.”

“Yes, well, so do a lot of people,” my father says. “Sometimes you have to adjust your expectations in life.”

I press my knuckles into my forehead. There’s an awful pressure in my head, like someone’s put a tight elastic band around it. “Great advice,” I say shortly. “Thanks. Either way, even if the Crosswire meeting goes nowhere, I’m staying in London.”

“Darling—”

“I’m twenty-three, mom,” I snap. “What do you think I’m going to do, live at home forever?”

“You’ve been injured...”

“Yeah, and I’m better now.”

“You need someone to take care of you.”

I don’t need Kelsie waving the “Unreasonable” note around. I know it is. “No, I don’t,” I say firmly. “I’m an adult. I’ll

be fine.”

“You’re an adult,” my father repeats acerbically. “An adult would recognize how hard it is for your mother to watch you try to put your life at risk again, just to chase after an impossible

dream.”

I throw my hands up. “So, what? You want me to make all my life decisions based on how you two feel about them?”

“No. That’s not what I said.” Two angry patches of color have appeared on my father’s cheeks. “But I do expect you to be considerate

of your mother and me, especially after all the money and time we’ve poured into your career.”

My mother is looking away from the camera, shaking her head slightly and waving her hand in front of her face, as if she’s

bravely holding back tears. I’m trying to remember if she’s always been so theatrical. My anger wanes, replaced by impatience.

I want to tell her to grow up.

“I do appreciate everything you two have done for me,” I say in a voice of tight, forced calm. “But I’m staying in London,

and I’m going to try to get back into racing.” I take a steadying breath. “I’m sorry if you’re upset, but I’m not going to

argue about it anymore.”

Kelsie gives me two thumbs up across the table. My father is red-faced. My mother is still shaking her head in disbelief.

“What about your things?” she says finally. “All of the things in your room.”

I put on a very thin smile. Kelsie and I made a plan for this. “I thought you and dad could come visit. There’s probably only

one or two suitcases of stuff in my room, you could bring it over with you. And that way you can see the apartment and everything.”

I initially wanted to ask them to mail all my stuff, but Kelsie suggested this instead. And she promised to be there for moral

support the entire time they visit.

“You won’t even come home to get your things?” My mother’s voice wobbles.

“I just thought, it’d be more convenient—”

“More convenient for you ,” my father says.

“And what about Paul?” my mother asks. “He and Candace are coming for dinner this weekend. I already told them you’d be here.”

It takes a lot of effort not to roll my eyes, because why exactly would she tell them that? I never said anything about going

home this weekend.

“I have my meeting with Crosswire on Tuesday.”

“If you came home tomorrow, you could spend five or six days here and still make it back in time.”

I glance up helplessly at Kelsie. I’m desperately hoping she’ll hold up the “Unreasonable” note, but instead she shoots me

an apologetic grimace and lifts the “Reasonable” one.

I take a deep breath and briefly close my eyes.

“Fine,” I say through my teeth. “I’ll book a flight now.”