ALICE Ch 285

Glynda has had enough of hotel bars.

She sits at the little bar inside the FUTA motorhome at the paddock. There’s plenty of activity outside, but she can have some peace within these walls. People know better than to bother her with anything that isn’t urgent after a showing like today’s qualifier.

The bar doesn’t serve ****. It’s Glynda’s rule, and she is tempted to change it. She sips cranberry juice and scrolls social media. The feed is dominated by photos of her new pit crew.

“They look good,” says a voice beside her. The slim blonde from the pit crew takes the seat next to Glynda. Glynda doesn’t even know their names, although she should. Faye’s father was an avid watcher of the early seasons of FUTA. This girl’s Dutch accent is thick, but the English comes easily. She’s had plenty of practice.

“I suppose,” Glynda replies.

“I did not think that among us, Adella would be the one to slip.” The blonde smiles and leans in, pointing. “She was so vain when I knew her.”

That’s funny coming from a woman who is pretty, and perhaps even beautiful, in the most traditional possible ways and making no effort to hide it. Even the youngest veteran of the first season of FUTA is over thirty now. None of them really looks it. And while Adella Salazar does have love handles now, she’s still visibly fit, and Glynda bristles at body-shaming in general. Having a height-challenged, rather stout daughter with almost cartoonishly short legs will have that effect.

Glynda makes a little noise intended to convey neutrality.

“Have you tried screaming into a pillow?” the blonde strokes the screen of the phone, revealing a GIF. First, it zooms in on Riley Jameson’s bottom, and then it’s a reaction of a cartoon character’s eyes shooting out of his skull like rockets. The GIF repeats and repeats.

“Do I look upset to you?” Glynda asks.

The blonde smirks and shrugs. “My sister screams into a pillow.”

“What’s your sister think of you being here?”

“I have a problem.” The blonde puts her hair back behind her ear. “It’s like someone who does ****. My sister thinks that for me to do this is like a person who does **** to be around the ****. Temptation.”

Glynda finds patience that she didn’t know she had. “Does Annette know about your problem?”

The blonde’s smile widens. “Oh, yes.” She offers her hand. “Lotte.”

“You know who I am.” Glynda shakes her hand.

“I do. How do you feel?”

“What?”

“How do you feel?”

Glynda doesn’t know what to say. How does she feel? About what? Just in general? It’s stupid. What’s the point of asking that? Why can’t anyone normal work for FUTA?

“I feel fine. Thank you for asking,” Glynda says.

Lotte chokes on her Perrier, then laughs. Glynda looks on, a little annoyed but more puzzled, as Lotte snatches napkins to wipe her face. She’s still laughing and making a mess.

“Are you feeling all right?” Glynda asks finally.

“Well,” Lotte says as she finishes cleaning up. She puts the napkin aside. “I do not like Belgium.”

Glynda picks up her cranberry juice. At least they have one thing in common.