As usual, a circus surrounded the pits and the team garages on qualifying day. I meandered through the throng of people and spotted Dyson’s unmistakable backside in the crowd. Yet, this time, something was different about him, and the change wasn’t subtle.

He’d cut off all of his hair!

Since the day we met, I’d always known him as someone with longer hair. I stood there, at a safe distance and smiled, wondering how different he’d look to me. Chuckling, I continued in his direction until I closed within an arm’s length.

Reaching out, I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Turn around,” I began. “Let me see!”

After I’d poked him a couple of times, he spun in place. A frown spread across his brow. Dyson looked at me in silence.

“Hey,” he began, looking me up and down. “Do I know you?”

What?

I jerked backwards, shaking my head at him. A small group of people huddled around him, all turned and looked at me.

“Are you serious?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

His expression never changed.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning away from me. “Believe me, I’d never forget meeting someone that looks like you.”

It wasn’t often I found myself speechless.

But, as Dyson’s charade continued, I found myself unable to make sense of it. Although my mouth was open, and I wanted to say something, I only managed a couple of puffs of air in response.

“Well?” he began, now staring at my eyes instead of my breasts. “What you have to say for yourself?”

“I… I-I don’t...” I stammered, trying to figure out what to say.

But before I could get a word out, a finger tapped my shoulder from behind. Dazed, I spun in place and as my eyes locked on the person behind me, I gasped.

“Dyson?”

Dressed in his fire suit, Dyson raised his chin at me. “Yeah, who were you expecting?”

I raised my arm and with my thumb sticking out, I gestured behind me. “But, you’re… there.”

Dyson frowned at me. “I’m where?”

Without speaking, I turned away from him and like a bizarre mirror, the shorthaired version of him appeared before me again. I shook my head, doing a double take, about to spin around and prove my point. But before I could, the long-haired version made his way into my line of sight and draped his arm across the other.

Both men looked at me before erupting in laughter.

I shook my head. “What is going on?”

Dyson, hardly able to contain himself, clapped his hands together. Afterward, he turned towards the other man and they slapped hands, before hugging each other.

“Ava, this is my brother, Chance,” he said, still chuckling. “We were just having a little fun with you.”

It was very close to the last thing I expected.

Actually. No. It was.

Yeah.

That was the last thing I expected.

I stared at Dyson and shook my head.

“Do you have any other surprises for me?”

Dyson lifted his arm off his brother’s shoulder and stepped towards me. He leaned in towards my ear and whispered, “I’ll introduce you to the rest of my family.”

What I didn’t realize was that the ‘rest of his family’ stood right behind him and his brother, watching the whole spectacle unfold. In less than a minute, I met Dyson’s father, Doug, his mother, Mary, and his sister, Melanie.

Of course, I already mentioned his brother, Chance.

Dyson was polite, more so than I expected. The strange thing was he introduced me as the team doctor. While I didn’t expect ‘girlfriend’ to come out of his mouth, I thought perhaps the time we’d spent together qualified me as more than a work buddy.

Anyway…

After we’d been introduced, Dyson mentioned his brother was a racer as well. However, unlike Dyson, Chance raced motorcycles, specifically superbikes. I had no idea what that meant, but apparently grown men race motorcycles at speeds exceeding one hundred twenty five miles per hour on the same race tracks Dyson drove two hundred miles per hour in a car.

In fact, just before leaving for his qualifying run, Dyson slapped his brother on the shoulder and said, “This mother fucker right here… I may be crazy, but he’s insane.”

The brothers exchanged hugs, laughing with each other before Dyson walked away to get his qualifying runs started.

After he disappeared into the crowd, his mother, Mary, turned towards me. “Would you like to sit with us while Dyson is running?”

I smiled and nodded at her.

“Yes,” I began. “Very much.”

Just as we were all about to take our seat in the grandstands, Chance and Melanie said they were going to get something to drink. After they wandered off, I sat between Dyson’s parents and got an earful about the team’s top driver.

Apparently, since he could stand, Doug and Mary were constantly protecting Dyson from… himself. From an early age he took risks other boys wouldn’t, or couldn’t. Doug, sensing an impending disaster with his young son, eventually turned to a close friend who raced garage-built hot rods on the weekend at a dirt track near Pomona.

Right away, Dyson started out racing go-karts, then moved on to midget racing. He was a prodigy and no one could get the better of him from the first day he sat behind the wheel.

Even so, his journey wasn’t a smooth one.

As he grew up, his addiction to speed wasn’t the only one he battled. Even though he rose through the ranks with ease, by the time he arrived in the all-business world of Formula One, his sponsors and teammates began to lose patience with him.

He’d managed to turn things around in the last year or two, but after I witnessed his latest meltdown with Darren, the stories his parents told me seemed closer to the truth than not.

I wondered how close to the edge his career could be.

AVA

“He’s running well,” Dyson’s dad said, as he looked up at the times.

Dyson made several runs over the last hour, and with each one, he improved. He ran faster than Marco, but still trailed Gunter for the lead. He’d just left the pits once again to try and catch the points leader when I turned towards his father, answering him.

“Yeah, he’s really fast. It’s the quickest I’ve seen him drive yet in qualifying.”

Just then, Dyson’s brother and sister returned with food and drinks for all of us.

“How’s he doing?” Chance asked, sitting down next to me.

I glanced at him, not yet used to seeing a Dyson look-alike.

“Terrific. He just left to go out again.”

Chance nodded and drank some of his soda.

We sat there for the next couple of minutes, making small talk and waiting for Dyson to come down the straightaway. Soon enough, he appeared. Dyson’s mother pointed up at the Jumbotron.

“Here he comes!”

Within seconds, Dyson’s car screamed by our position, the engine wailing, reaching its maximum output. Simultaneously, we all stood, craning our necks to follow him. When he disappeared from our line of sight, we all glanced up to the Jumbotron and checked his time.

It was his fastest lap yet.

We exchanged high-fives and celebrated while Dyson continued around the track for another lap. After sitting, I glanced in the direction of the pits. I expected to see the same level of excitement we shared while we watched Dyson make his qualifying run. However, everyone appeared to be quite subdued and if I had to guess, unhappy.

Most displeased of all was Darren.

While Dyson’s family talked amongst themselves, I watched Darren gesturing excitedly while talking to Dyson over race radio. For the next several seconds, I kept my focus on him and noticed his frustration increase.

Without speaking, I glanced to my left and right to see if anyone else noticed Darren’s behavior as well. By the looks of things, no one had. A couple of seconds later, I looked at Darren one last time. He seemed completely irate, so much so that he removed his headphones and slammed them down in disgust.