I read the announcement again, reassuring myself I'm not hallucinating.
Holy crap.
NRGYZR really named me as their new replacement driver.
I glance up. Wes's voice is still faint over speaker on Virgil's phone.
"Well, this is aw—"
Virgil cuts him off mid-word, ending the call without so much as a goodbye.
I stare.
Wow. Virgil looks pissed.
I expect him to start hurling insults at me in front of everyone at any second.
Instead... nothing.
He just stands there, expression dark and unsettling, like he'd punch the first thing that moved. Then he turns and walks out, leaving the room in a strangely hollow silence.
With him gone, everyone finally exhales.
The engineers swarm over, clapping me on the back, offering high-fives, grinning like fools. I can't help the small, satisfied smile that slips out.
Coach comes over, eyes bright. "Your spot on NRGYZR is well-deserved, Liv. The team is so proud of what you've accomplished during your time with us."
I nod, muttering a quiet, "Thanks, Coach."
"Racing in the Emerald Series will be different," he continues. "Mistakes will be more costly, and your new team will be less forgiving. We're going to miss having you here. Come back to visit anytime. Go home, rest, treat yourself."
I feel the excitement bubble up in my chest, drowning out everything else.
I grab my things, letting my helmet and gear clatter into my bag, and pause at the vending machine outside to snag an energy drink. A small ritual, a moment to process it all before reality fully hits.
I drop a few coins into the vending machine, punch in my selection, and out pops a BluMoose energy drink.
I glance at the can.
New Recipe.
Ugh. After his dad bought the company, Virgil couldn't shut up about it for weeks.
Now? I can't even look at a BluMoose can without thinking of him.
I toss it in my bag for later and head to my car, shrugging my backpack onto my shoulder. My thumb hovers over my phone, and I notice Willie's unread text.
Oh crap. I completely forgot about Willie.
I slide into my car and pull out my phone, seeing Willie's unread message blinking at me.
Willie: Just give me a call back when you can!
I hit the call button. He picks up immediately.
"Hey, Liv," he says. "I managed to snag a few minutes with NRGYZR management as they were coming back from lunch."
I frown. "Wait... what?"
"Management seemed ready to go with Virgil," Willie continues, "but one of their drivers put in a good word for you."
I stare at the phone. "What?? Who?"
"I'm not sure," he admits. "But they're the reason you were chosen over Virgil."
I blink, dumbfounded. My mind races over Virgil's smug grin earlier, the smirk, the arrogance. Wow.
"Oh, and I hope you don't mind," Willie adds, "but I accepted NRGYZR's offer as soon as I heard back."
I freeze. "Wait. You did what?"
"Sorry, I didn't check with you first," he says quickly. "I just wanted to seal the deal before their management had a chance to change their minds."
I run a hand over my face. "Change their minds?"
Willie sighs. "A lot of the guys had Virgil as their pick. He was more appealing because of the sponsorship money he'd bring in. But NRGYZR believes you have potential. You'll just need to prove your worth for their investment."
I lean back in the seat, phone pressed to my ear, letting it all sink in. Virgil, sponsorships, the team's expectations, my shot at Emerald Series... it's overwhelming.
"And how would I do that? By winning races?"
"Teams want drivers who can either win races, which makes the team look good, or bring in sponsorship money to help cover costs. How you handle yourself in public matters, too. Teams and sponsors aren't interested in working with individuals who draw negative media attention, regardless of talent. The best drivers do both—win races and draw sponsors. But if a driver can't bring money in, the team is taking a bigger risk."
I hate to admit it, but... Virgil isn't completely talentless, and he's got money—even if it comes from his dad.
"So... if I want to keep my spot on NRGYZR, I should focus on getting sponsors?" I ask.
"Exactly. Sponsorships and wins come later, once you've learned the ropes," Willie continues. "I'm sure their staff will walk you through your role tomorrow when she shows you the facilities. As a reserve driver, you have to make the most of every opportunity. Prioritize networking, learning, and being a supportive teammate."
I let out a long, slow sigh. Things suddenly feel heavier than they did five minutes ago.
Ugh. Now seems like a perfect time for that BluMoose I take a long sip of the BluMoose I'd been saving, grimacing at the taste.
Disgusting.
I swear it's like Virgil's dad buys out every company I like just to ruin my favorite products.
Willie's voice comes through the phone again, grounding me.
"Listen, Liv. I wouldn't have signed you up for this if I didn't think you could handle it. Don't worry too much about what I said—take tonight to celebrate your promotion to NRGYZR. Also, I've set up an appointment with Beatrice. She's part of NRGYZR's operations team. She'll have paperwork and show you around the facilities. And don't forget to dress professionally."
"Sounds good. Thanks, Willie. You're the best," I tell him.
"Oh, and one more thing," he adds. "The team needs a blurb about you for their page. Can you get that to me tonight?"
"Sure thing," I say.
"Great. Talk to you later."
I hang up and sink a little lower in my seat, letting the weight of the day settle in. For a moment, I just sit there, processing everything.
Then—screeching tires. I snap my head toward the sound. A car pulls up beside mine, tinted windows rolled down.
Virgil.
Ugh. What does he want? Knowing him, it's probably to tell me off.
I crack the door just enough to see his face.
"Relax, Liv," he says. "I just wanted to come by and congratulate you."
"Really?" I ask with a tone of suspicion.
"Sure," he continues. "NRGYZR is an awful team, and a shit team deserves a driver like you. Congrats—you'll be driving back up for a team led by some washed-up has-been."
There it is.
"Funny," I say, not hiding the edge in my voice, "I thought you were hoping for that seat yourself."
"Oh, I'm fine where I am... for now," he says. "For the time being, I'm going to enjoy watching them dump your sorry ass as soon as they realize you can't bring in any money or talent. You know what? Here—let me be your first sponsor."
Before I can even react, he pulls a loose wad of cash from his pocket and hurls it at my car window.
The bills explode on impact, scattering everywhere, landing at my feet.
I can't believe he just fucking did that!
Inhaling deeply, I take a second to gather myself before clapping back at Virgil.
"It's a little amusing how invested you are in my career, Virgil."
He frowns, clearly confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're trying very hard to get a rise out of me." His expression shifts, disappointment flashing across his face. "You think this is funny?"
I shrug mentally. "That's not your call."
"I know you were probably hoping to get more of a reaction from me," I say, "but I think I'll just let my driving do the talking. See you on the track... or not."
He swears under his breath, but I calmly shut the door, blocking out the rest of his message. With practiced ease, I reverse out of my spot and head for the exit. My car kicks up a gust, sending the scattered bills swirling over his car like confetti.