Driving Miss Catherine
Australia
Kevin tapped his foot against the railing he was sitting on. His head was hung and he stared blankly at his red shoes. ‘Red,’ he thought with a sneer. ‘A color I never thought I’d wear on the track.’ He sighed and lifted his head when he heard his name being called. He hopped off the railing and followed his physio back to the caravans for a pre-race massage. Turning a corner, he was still staring at his shoes, and ran smack into someone.
“Oh my God, sorry-” she started
“No, its my fault…hey,” he looked over the girl he’d just run into and a thousand distracting thoughts he didn’t need ran through his mind. “That color really looks good on you,” Kevin finally said.
Cat looked down at her red Ferrari polo and matching red shorts. “Thanks! It’s so nice to wear shorts in the middle of the winter! Gotta love this Australian weather.” She started to continue walking but stopped to turn back to a still gaping Kevin. “Didn’t you come in second here last year?”
Kevin blushed; it was probably just from the heat, or at least that’s what he told himself. It certainly wasn’t because Cat’s shirt was unbuttoned enough to clearly show off her Ferrari bikini top. He stopped himself from wondering if she was wearing the matching bikini bottoms under those short, low riding shorts, and shook his head back into focus. “Yeah, well, I came in third, but Ricciardo got disqualified, so I was bumped up to second.” He concluded with a shrug, trying to seem modest, yet he really wanted to brag to her. He wasn’t the bragging type, but something about Cat made him want to show off a bit. He mentally resigned as he reminded himself that Cat’s boyfriend had four world championship titles and that his meager second place win could not stand up to that. He lowered his head and avoided her cheerful stare.
“Sweet,” she nodded, not fully understanding. “Maybe you can do better this year.” She patted him on the shoulder as she walked around him and continued walking toward the garage. He couldn’t keep his eyes from following those red shorts, and mentally slapped himself. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the the caravans, although at this point, he would need much more than a pre-race massage to get his head back in focus. Maybe a cold shower. Or a bucket of ice water to dump over his head.
Across the paddock, Kevin’s teammate was noticing the same outfit on Cat, but with a different outcome. Seb slapped her butt as she walked by, earning him a shocked, girlish, gasp from Cat. She smiled and hid her face behind her clipboard.
“Sebastian, I have work to do,” she tried to say seriously, but failed and ended up giggling.
“Cat, come here,” he said and drew her into a hug. “You can’t wear that kind of thing around here, you’ll distract the mechanics.” He whispered into her ear.
“Oh really? Just the mechanics?” She kissed his cheek and drew out of the hug, trying to get back to the checklist on her clipboard.
“Is that ‘Ferrari Red’ lipstick you’re wearing?” He asked, wiping the smudge off his cheek.
“It is. It came with the bikini I’m wearing, and this shirt, and shorts, and this other pair of heels that I didn’t want to wear, so I wore some filp-flops I already had. I’m not really a high heels kind of girl,” Cat scrunched her nose as she showed off her footwear.
“I still think they look just as sexy.” Seb replied.
“Hey, none of that,” Cat stepped back and put her index finger over Seb’s lips, stopping him. “I need you to win this race for me.”
“You want me to win?” He laughed incredulously and his mood changed in a flash. “Cat….”
“What? A girl can hope, right?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t raced in a year, and it was this race that ended things for Kimi, so,” he shrugged, and added quietly, “I wouldn’t expect much. You saw how qualifying went. I’m three places behind Magnussen, and I’m not used to this car. This track… I have history with this track, and I can’t-”
“Vettel.” Cat held her hand up to his lips and. “Hush. You’re going to be fine. Right now, you are Sebastian Vettel, four time world champion. Go win this race for me. Or, at least don’t come in last, okay? As long as you don’t come in last, I’ll be happy.” Cat smiled and patted him on the back. “Darling, you do what you do best, and don’t worry about the results. It’s only your first race back, we’re not expecting perfection. Just try your best, dear.” Cat smiled and tried not to sound condescending. She meant it, and she hoped it showed. Cat wanted Seb to do well, so the doubters would have nothing to comment on, and his withering fans would have something to rally behind.
Seb nodded, though his mind was far away. He was warding off thoughts of the fiery crash that nearly took the life of his best friend. He tried to keep his mind away from those memories as he sat in his car in P14 waiting for the light to turn green, starting the race. His first race. He was the new Seb; the Ferrari Vettel. He was the man who had driven a marvelous young woman to and from class this spring and fall, the one who’d picked her up after she had been tricked by Heikki. He was the one who had fallen undoubtedly, and wholeheartedly in love with the girl he was instructed to call ‘Miss Catherine.’ And he was still a Formula 1 driver.
Red light. Red light. Green.
The familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach came back. It was a mix of adrenaline and ambition, mixed with the slight sensation of being turned on. The thrill of the race, the fight of competition: it’s what’s made his heart beat for so many years.
Until he met Cat. He had a new reason to wake up every morning. He had a new passion, a new love. Racing came second, and Seb wasn’t sure what to do with this. He’d spent his whole life chasing the podium, and now the podium was in the shadow of this amazingly smart and fascinating woman. Cat had somehow overtaken the love of his life, and now he was working tirelessly to keep her in the lead, as racing crept up from behind. He had to keep the balance between Cat and racing, so that one love fed the other.
Cat had never seen anything like it. She sat in the garage with her headphones on, poised to take notes on her clipboard as the race started. But as soon as the cars took off, she could think nothing but of the safety of her Sebby. ‘He’s going too fast, right?’ she thought and looked around, but no one seemed to be reacting. The engineers said something, but she didn’t understand what it meant. All she saw was her boyfriend tearing around the tight corners at unspeakable speed, passing his fellow racers with inches to spare, and tearing down straightaways like he was about to take off.
Nothing could have prepared Cat for this. She’d seen Seb and Kevin practicing, but it was just them and the track. Now, with many drivers on the track, actually racing for a title, the stakes were higher, and the end result was all that mattered. She slowly sunk further back into the garage and listened to the correspondence on her headphones, most of it slipping right over her head.
Hours later, it seemed like, Seb and Kevin returned to the garage. Cat hadn’t even paid attention to who had won, she just mindlessly went about filling out her checklist: how much fuel was left, how many stops each car had made, and other things that might be relevant to her final project. Her head was somewhere else, trying to be focus on Seb and his 9th place finish. Was 9th place good? Cat didn’t know. Kevin had come in 7th, and that seemed okay, but was 9th okay for Seb?
Cat hung around near the back of the garage as Seb and Kevin got out of their cars. Kevin glanced her way and made an attempt at some sort of contact, which Cat responded with a half smile. She was worried. Was Seb going to be mad? Was he content with 9th place? She didn’t know what to expect from a post-race Seb. She wanted to hug him, cuddle him close, and comfort him in his loss. 9th place surely was not good enough for Sebastian Vettel, right?
He climbed out of his car and walked over to the scale, like he always did. After being weighed, he took off the HANS device, removed his helmet and smiled. Seb thanked his engineers, gave a hug to his physio who had diligently watched the race and stood uncommenting at the back of the garage with Cat until the end of the race. Unzipping his overalls, Seb tied the arms around his waist before turning to look at Cat. He gave a hint of a smile before retire to his caravan.
‘Is that all?’ She thought. ‘After everything we’ve been through, I get a half smile?’ She sat down next to the car and finished up her notes. She got whatever information she could get from the engineers about the car before she sulked off to some corner and filled in the rest on her own. She wandered through the halls of the Ferrari caravans hoping to run in to her boyfriend, and maybe then he would show some kind of affection towards her.
She sat down in the hall near his door. Maybe when he came out he would notice her. Fifteen minutes passed, and someone came out of the room, but it wasn’t Seb. Five minutes later, someone else came out, and it wasn’t Seb.
But he sat down next to her. Close enough that she could feel his heart beating.
“You can take your headphones off, you know,” He said and reached over to help her take them off. Cat didn’t move and let him take her Ferrari issued headphones off and place them by her feet. He was quiet a moment, and Cat knew he wanted to say something else, so she let him.
“He’s in the other caravan, you know,” Kevin said, glancing over at Cat’s face for a reaction.
She shrugged. “I can never find my way around. After all, it’s only my first race.” She was feeling sorry for herself, and she wasn’t sure why. But she was going to relish the attention even though it wasn’t what she was looking for. She wanted to make sure Seb was okay, yet her head was still spinning with the race.
Kevin was quiet. He didn’t say anything else. He wanted to, there was so much he wanted to say, but this was not the place. Instead, he placed his hand near her foot, which Cat had curled up and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her nails were painted red too; Ferrari red.
“H-how was the race?” She whispered, barely turning toward Kevin.
“Weren’t you watching?” He teased, and when she didn’t return his humorous reply, he responded, “It wasn’t bad. I guess you saw, but I came in 5th.” He laughed, but again, Cat responded as if she were at a funeral. “I know it’s not that 2nd place I managed to get last year, but 5th is still good. And at 9th, Seb has made a decent entrance back into F1.” Kevin could sense Cat grow tense at the mention of her boyfriend’s name and he sighed, again feeling that his efforts were futile. He stood up and helped her up too. “Come on, I’ll show you to his quarters.”
“Thanks,” Cat managed to whisper as Kevin led her over to Seb’s quarters. He glanced back a few times to make sure she was following, and tried to catch her eye, but her gaze remained fixed firmly on the ground in front of her, never once acknowledging Kevin. It was not until they were outside of Seb’s door that she looked at his face.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. Even though it was fake, it lit up his night. Kevin knew he had a lonely hotel room to return to, but this smile warmed him enough.
“No problem,” he smiled, and slipped away unnoticed.
Cat had turned toward the door and Kevin was practically invisible to her. She knocked on the door and waited for a reply, not noticing her guide had departed. Cat took a deep breath as she prepared her thoughts for Seb. But what does one say after a race? She didn’t know. And she didn’t know if he was upset, or pleased with the results. She couldn’t judge the half smile he’d given her as he exited his car. Was he mad? Cat would find out.
“Oh my God, sorry-” she started
“No, its my fault…hey,” he looked over the girl he’d just run into and a thousand distracting thoughts he didn’t need ran through his mind. “That color really looks good on you,” Kevin finally said.
Cat looked down at her red Ferrari polo and matching red shorts. “Thanks! It’s so nice to wear shorts in the middle of the winter! Gotta love this Australian weather.” She started to continue walking but stopped to turn back to a still gaping Kevin. “Didn’t you come in second here last year?”
Kevin blushed; it was probably just from the heat, or at least that’s what he told himself. It certainly wasn’t because Cat’s shirt was unbuttoned enough to clearly show off her Ferrari bikini top. He stopped himself from wondering if she was wearing the matching bikini bottoms under those short, low riding shorts, and shook his head back into focus. “Yeah, well, I came in third, but Ricciardo got disqualified, so I was bumped up to second.” He concluded with a shrug, trying to seem modest, yet he really wanted to brag to her. He wasn’t the bragging type, but something about Cat made him want to show off a bit. He mentally resigned as he reminded himself that Cat’s boyfriend had four world championship titles and that his meager second place win could not stand up to that. He lowered his head and avoided her cheerful stare.
“Sweet,” she nodded, not fully understanding. “Maybe you can do better this year.” She patted him on the shoulder as she walked around him and continued walking toward the garage. He couldn’t keep his eyes from following those red shorts, and mentally slapped himself. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the the caravans, although at this point, he would need much more than a pre-race massage to get his head back in focus. Maybe a cold shower. Or a bucket of ice water to dump over his head.
Across the paddock, Kevin’s teammate was noticing the same outfit on Cat, but with a different outcome. Seb slapped her butt as she walked by, earning him a shocked, girlish, gasp from Cat. She smiled and hid her face behind her clipboard.
“Sebastian, I have work to do,” she tried to say seriously, but failed and ended up giggling.
“Cat, come here,” he said and drew her into a hug. “You can’t wear that kind of thing around here, you’ll distract the mechanics.” He whispered into her ear.
“Oh really? Just the mechanics?” She kissed his cheek and drew out of the hug, trying to get back to the checklist on her clipboard.
“Is that ‘Ferrari Red’ lipstick you’re wearing?” He asked, wiping the smudge off his cheek.
“It is. It came with the bikini I’m wearing, and this shirt, and shorts, and this other pair of heels that I didn’t want to wear, so I wore some filp-flops I already had. I’m not really a high heels kind of girl,” Cat scrunched her nose as she showed off her footwear.
“I still think they look just as sexy.” Seb replied.
“Hey, none of that,” Cat stepped back and put her index finger over Seb’s lips, stopping him. “I need you to win this race for me.”
“You want me to win?” He laughed incredulously and his mood changed in a flash. “Cat….”
“What? A girl can hope, right?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t raced in a year, and it was this race that ended things for Kimi, so,” he shrugged, and added quietly, “I wouldn’t expect much. You saw how qualifying went. I’m three places behind Magnussen, and I’m not used to this car. This track… I have history with this track, and I can’t-”
“Vettel.” Cat held her hand up to his lips and. “Hush. You’re going to be fine. Right now, you are Sebastian Vettel, four time world champion. Go win this race for me. Or, at least don’t come in last, okay? As long as you don’t come in last, I’ll be happy.” Cat smiled and patted him on the back. “Darling, you do what you do best, and don’t worry about the results. It’s only your first race back, we’re not expecting perfection. Just try your best, dear.” Cat smiled and tried not to sound condescending. She meant it, and she hoped it showed. Cat wanted Seb to do well, so the doubters would have nothing to comment on, and his withering fans would have something to rally behind.
Seb nodded, though his mind was far away. He was warding off thoughts of the fiery crash that nearly took the life of his best friend. He tried to keep his mind away from those memories as he sat in his car in P14 waiting for the light to turn green, starting the race. His first race. He was the new Seb; the Ferrari Vettel. He was the man who had driven a marvelous young woman to and from class this spring and fall, the one who’d picked her up after she had been tricked by Heikki. He was the one who had fallen undoubtedly, and wholeheartedly in love with the girl he was instructed to call ‘Miss Catherine.’ And he was still a Formula 1 driver.
Red light. Red light. Green.
The familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach came back. It was a mix of adrenaline and ambition, mixed with the slight sensation of being turned on. The thrill of the race, the fight of competition: it’s what’s made his heart beat for so many years.
Until he met Cat. He had a new reason to wake up every morning. He had a new passion, a new love. Racing came second, and Seb wasn’t sure what to do with this. He’d spent his whole life chasing the podium, and now the podium was in the shadow of this amazingly smart and fascinating woman. Cat had somehow overtaken the love of his life, and now he was working tirelessly to keep her in the lead, as racing crept up from behind. He had to keep the balance between Cat and racing, so that one love fed the other.
Cat had never seen anything like it. She sat in the garage with her headphones on, poised to take notes on her clipboard as the race started. But as soon as the cars took off, she could think nothing but of the safety of her Sebby. ‘He’s going too fast, right?’ she thought and looked around, but no one seemed to be reacting. The engineers said something, but she didn’t understand what it meant. All she saw was her boyfriend tearing around the tight corners at unspeakable speed, passing his fellow racers with inches to spare, and tearing down straightaways like he was about to take off.
Nothing could have prepared Cat for this. She’d seen Seb and Kevin practicing, but it was just them and the track. Now, with many drivers on the track, actually racing for a title, the stakes were higher, and the end result was all that mattered. She slowly sunk further back into the garage and listened to the correspondence on her headphones, most of it slipping right over her head.
Hours later, it seemed like, Seb and Kevin returned to the garage. Cat hadn’t even paid attention to who had won, she just mindlessly went about filling out her checklist: how much fuel was left, how many stops each car had made, and other things that might be relevant to her final project. Her head was somewhere else, trying to be focus on Seb and his 9th place finish. Was 9th place good? Cat didn’t know. Kevin had come in 7th, and that seemed okay, but was 9th okay for Seb?
Cat hung around near the back of the garage as Seb and Kevin got out of their cars. Kevin glanced her way and made an attempt at some sort of contact, which Cat responded with a half smile. She was worried. Was Seb going to be mad? Was he content with 9th place? She didn’t know what to expect from a post-race Seb. She wanted to hug him, cuddle him close, and comfort him in his loss. 9th place surely was not good enough for Sebastian Vettel, right?
He climbed out of his car and walked over to the scale, like he always did. After being weighed, he took off the HANS device, removed his helmet and smiled. Seb thanked his engineers, gave a hug to his physio who had diligently watched the race and stood uncommenting at the back of the garage with Cat until the end of the race. Unzipping his overalls, Seb tied the arms around his waist before turning to look at Cat. He gave a hint of a smile before retire to his caravan.
‘Is that all?’ She thought. ‘After everything we’ve been through, I get a half smile?’ She sat down next to the car and finished up her notes. She got whatever information she could get from the engineers about the car before she sulked off to some corner and filled in the rest on her own. She wandered through the halls of the Ferrari caravans hoping to run in to her boyfriend, and maybe then he would show some kind of affection towards her.
She sat down in the hall near his door. Maybe when he came out he would notice her. Fifteen minutes passed, and someone came out of the room, but it wasn’t Seb. Five minutes later, someone else came out, and it wasn’t Seb.
But he sat down next to her. Close enough that she could feel his heart beating.
“You can take your headphones off, you know,” He said and reached over to help her take them off. Cat didn’t move and let him take her Ferrari issued headphones off and place them by her feet. He was quiet a moment, and Cat knew he wanted to say something else, so she let him.
“He’s in the other caravan, you know,” Kevin said, glancing over at Cat’s face for a reaction.
She shrugged. “I can never find my way around. After all, it’s only my first race.” She was feeling sorry for herself, and she wasn’t sure why. But she was going to relish the attention even though it wasn’t what she was looking for. She wanted to make sure Seb was okay, yet her head was still spinning with the race.
Kevin was quiet. He didn’t say anything else. He wanted to, there was so much he wanted to say, but this was not the place. Instead, he placed his hand near her foot, which Cat had curled up and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her nails were painted red too; Ferrari red.
“H-how was the race?” She whispered, barely turning toward Kevin.
“Weren’t you watching?” He teased, and when she didn’t return his humorous reply, he responded, “It wasn’t bad. I guess you saw, but I came in 5th.” He laughed, but again, Cat responded as if she were at a funeral. “I know it’s not that 2nd place I managed to get last year, but 5th is still good. And at 9th, Seb has made a decent entrance back into F1.” Kevin could sense Cat grow tense at the mention of her boyfriend’s name and he sighed, again feeling that his efforts were futile. He stood up and helped her up too. “Come on, I’ll show you to his quarters.”
“Thanks,” Cat managed to whisper as Kevin led her over to Seb’s quarters. He glanced back a few times to make sure she was following, and tried to catch her eye, but her gaze remained fixed firmly on the ground in front of her, never once acknowledging Kevin. It was not until they were outside of Seb’s door that she looked at his face.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. Even though it was fake, it lit up his night. Kevin knew he had a lonely hotel room to return to, but this smile warmed him enough.
“No problem,” he smiled, and slipped away unnoticed.
Cat had turned toward the door and Kevin was practically invisible to her. She knocked on the door and waited for a reply, not noticing her guide had departed. Cat took a deep breath as she prepared her thoughts for Seb. But what does one say after a race? She didn’t know. And she didn’t know if he was upset, or pleased with the results. She couldn’t judge the half smile he’d given her as he exited his car. Was he mad? Cat would find out.