Pitbabe S2, Chapter 10 pg5

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 10 pg5

   Dr. Chris… that’s his voice.

   But why did he sound so frantic? He doesn’t usually talk like this.

   “Charlie!”

   That was the loudest I’d ever heard Dr. Chris since we met, and it yanked me out of the deepest sleep I’d ever experienced.

   “Huh… what?” I blinked, trying to focus. The first thing I saw was his face, far more serious than the Dr. Chris I knew. “Chris…”

   “Your phone,” he cut in, his voice urgent. He was holding my phone, and his demeanor made my instincts scream that something bad had happened while I was out.

   “What’s… wrong?”

   My voice was hoarse, and my head felt heavy.

   “Babe…”

   

    BABE:

   Just one word, and my stubborn body snapped back to normal instantly.

   This morning, I told Charlie I’d stay home and read the new book I bought. (Yeah, I actually went to a bookstore, though mostly because I was tagging along while Charlie picked out books.) Charlie seemed pretty proud of my plan. He said it was good for me to relax quietly and try something new, that reading would help me focus and calm down. I’m not sure if there was some hidden meaning behind his words, but overall, it sounded like solid advice, so I was determined to follow through.

   But the results weren’t exactly satisfying. This heartwarming novel was way more boring than I expected. Honestly, I didn’t think much when I grabbed it—just saw it on the bestseller shelf, liked the pretty cover, and wanted to surprise Charlie by showing some interest in books. I figured it’d at least pass the time, like I’d blink and Charlie would be back. But nope. Every minute dragged on painfully, and I still had no idea what the protagonist was even trying to do.

   The whole time I was reading, I kept worrying about what I’d tell Charlie. I was sure when he got back, he’d ask, “How was it?” and “Tell me about it.” If I gave up and tossed the book aside, I wouldn’t have anything to say to Charlie.

   Suddenly, it feels like I’m cramming for an exam or something.

   Charlie said reading would calm me down, but it’s not working at all. I’m just getting more restless, annoyed by the main character’s endless whining and self-pity in this book. Every little thing turns into paragraphs of self-blame, even for stuff they had no part in. The more I read, the more I want to jump into the book, shake the guy’s head, and yell, “Blame someone else for once, you idiot!” then hightail it out of there.

   After tossing and turning on the couch for nearly an hour, my patience hit its limit. I slammed the book shut, tossed it onto the coffee table, and lay there staring at the ceiling instead. My mind was racing—what to do if I’m not reading? The first thought was to go racing. There’s probably a bunch of folks at the track today since Phii Alan texted the group chat last night about tuning Dean’s car. But then I thought, I just practiced yesterday, and honestly, I’m not in the mood to squeeze into a sweaty racing suit right now.

   But if I don’t go there, where else is there?

   Going somewhere new feels risky—Charlie would worry. Lately, that kid’s been twice as paranoid about me. Plus, even if I wanted to check out new places, I’ve got no ideas. My life revolves around the same few spots. Unless someone drags me out, I barely go anywhere. During the off-season, my life’s emptier than a retired uncle’s. I’ve got a boyfriend, sure, but he’s swamped with a million tasks and can’t hang out every day. I get it.

   Hmm… but I kinda miss him.

   Should I go see Charlie?

   The thought popped up out of nowhere. He’s got no plans to go anywhere today, just holed up in the lab all day. It’s not like he’s busy every second—there’s gotta be some downtime to hang out. A lab date sounds fine, right? He doesn’t have to ditch work, and I can watch him do his thing. At the very least, it’s gotta be less boring than this pointless book.

   Decision made. I sprang off the couch, bolted upstairs, and changed into something sharper. Sure, Charlie’s seen me in every state, but the lab folks only know me looking top-notch. I want them to see me and think, Wow, Charlie’s got impeccable taste, not, Oh, guess the honeymoon phase is over.

   It took just a few minutes to make myself presentable enough to leave. I grabbed my trusty car keys, and with my other hand, I scrolled through my phone to the last number I called (of course, it’s Charlie). I was about to call and tell him I was coming, but then it hit me—it’d be way more fun to surprise him. It’s not weird for me to show up at the lab, but if he doesn’t know I’m coming, it’ll at least startle him a bit, right?

   Alright.

   Let’s do a surprise.

   I shoved the phone into my pocket, opened the door, and hopped into my trusty ride. Slipped on some sunglasses for that extra cool driving vibe, even though the lab’s less than a twenty-minute drive from home.

   Even outside the racetrack, driving always gets my heart pumping. I don’t know why, but the cramped cabin feels like my kingdom. I control everything inside, while staying alert for dangers from the outside. My body works in sync automatically—hands on the wheel, foot on the gas, eyes scanning both the real view and the mirrors, ears catching external sounds alongside the music playing softly in the cabin. Even if my senses aren’t as sharp as they used to be, I still consider myself naturally quick-witted.

   So, when something’s off around me, I usually notice it before anyone else.

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