I decide to move on. “There’s been lots of rumors that you don’t get on with your teammate, Mason Clark. True or false?”
“False. Mason is my teammate. I like him. But it doesn’t mean we have to be best mates.”
“Well, that would be stupid because we all know Xavier is your best mate.”
He laughs. Really laughs.
And I love the fact that I’m drawing that laughter out of him.
“But we work together to do what is best for the team, and our team principal, Alex Oliver, has made it clear that Mason is the number-one driver.”
“So nepotism isn’t exactly working out for you, is it?” I ask slyly.
Caleb stares at me in disbelief for a brief second, as if he can’t believe I just said that.
To be honest, I can’t believe that came out of my mouth, either.
Then he flashes me a grin and chuckles. “No. I have to earn the number-one driver spot from Mason. I don’t think anyone expected me to challenge for it so soon, though.”
“Didyouexpect to challenge for it in your second season racing for the team?”
“Yes. That was my goal. To not only help the team with points, but to show everyone I’m just as capable at competing for the podium as Mason.”
I could press him here with uncomfortable questions about playing by Collings Motors rules. I could ask about what it’s like to have to defer to what the team wants for Mason, as he had to do last season.
But I don’t. Instead, I switch gears on him once again. “What is your favorite kind of track to race on? Street or circuit?”
Caleb reaches for his water and takes a sip. “I like circuit tracks. Of course, Silverstone is my favorite.”
“The home track.”
“Yeah. I love racing at home, but I also love the track. It’s really fast, which makes it a lot of fun to drive.”
“Okay. Give me another track besides the home one.”
“I also like Spa,” he says, referring to the track in Belgium. “You never know what the weather is going to be like. It’s also set in the Ardennes Forest, which is beautiful.”
“What’s your favorite street track?”
“Monaco,” Caleb says instantly. “For the history and because it’s such a high-risk track. You have really narrow streets to navigate. There’s the tunnel, so you go from light to dark and back to light. Elevation changes. And the barriers are close, so you have hardly any room for mistakes. Now, on the downside, you can’t overtake much, so that can make it less exciting to watch.”
As he speaks, I can see the Monaco Grand Prix in my head. The beautiful turquoise-blue sea filled with jaw-dropping yachts. The houses built into the hills and the mountains in the background. The hairpin turns and cars flirting with kissing the high walls as they fly through the streets of Monte Carlo.
I could happily talk racing with him all day, but I wanted this interview to be a mix of F1 questions with completely irreverentones, so I decide to throw another non-racing one at him, to see if I can throw him off balance.
In a good way,I think with an inward smile.
“If you had to eat a gummy candy for the rest of your life, what would it be?” I ask with a straight face.
Caleb’s expression tells me I’ve completely caught him off-guard. “I’m sorry, gummy candy?” he asks, his brows knitting together.
“Yes. For example, I love rosé gummy bears. I always have some in my bag.”
“I prefer foam sweets.”
I make a face. “That sounds gross. What even is that?”
His face lights up. “You’ve never had a foam sweet?”