But now? Who knows when I’ll be home again.
We’re a close-knit family. I love spending time with my parents. And Hadleigh and I are finally in the same town again.She’s like my sister, and we meet up often. We go out on Friday nights in South Beach, dancing until we’re ready to drop. Grab coffee together. Treat ourselves to mani/pedis and lunch.
I’ll miss all of them so much.
And somehow, I’ll have to find a way to carve out a whole new life—in a new country—without them.
Buzz!
I glance down at my phone. It’s a text from my dad:
Going to be a few minutes late, sweetheart. Will meet you curbside.
I smile and text him back that it’s fine. I make my way outside, letting him know where I am, and I’m hit with the heavy scent of jet fuel that is lingering in the air. I come to a stop and let the exhaustion of the past week sweep over me. I’ve flown from Bologna to Miami, Miami to Nice, and back. I’ve worked for both The Downforce Network and myself, covering Formula 1 and Formula 2, my ultimate dream job. I’ve signed contracts. Received information about my temporary apartment in London. And now I have to prepare to move across the Atlantic, which will happen next week.
And I’m secretly dating one of the hottest Formula 1 drivers in the world.
This is CRAZY.
I take a moment to send a message to Caleb, as I promised I would when I got to Miami:
I’ve arrived! Cleared customs and am waiting outside for my dad to pick me up.
Within a few minutes, he responds:
I knew when you were home. Your location changed to Miami. Yeah, I was watching it. I had to know you were okay.
My heart quickens a bit thinking of him tracking me. We have each other’s locations turned on in Connectivity so we cansee where the other is whenever we log in.Caleb Collings is typing …
I hate that I can’t see you in Spain this weekend.
AHHHHHHHHHHH!
Another message follows that one:
The truth is, I hated that I couldn’t see you after the race on Sunday.
Caleb Collings is typing …
I miss you, Isla.
HE. MISSES. ME.
I can’t contain the warm feeling spreading through my body. I text him back:
I miss you, too. I hate that I won’t be able to see you until Montreal.
My smile fades. That’s two weeks from now.
Caleb texts me back:
We’ll make video chats work. No matter what the time-zone difference is.
I stare at his words. Caleb is all in on this. As am I.
I see my dad’s Cadillac SUV swing around the bend, so I text him a quick note:
My dad is here. I’ll message you when I get home.