ALICE Epilogue Part 7

Reluctantly, Aria turns from the bed, where Kylie slumbers in a blue thong. She doesn’t even want to look away, let alone leave the room, but it’s time to go to work. It’s the last race of the year. Kylie will have to get up in about ten minutes to go and get Alice Wilde warmed up. Even if they could go together, Kylie wants these extra ten minutes of rest. Sleep is about the only thing she takes seriously.

Kylie was never meant to be more than a fling, but here they are after four months.

Aria pictures herself introducing this flamboyant, Australian bleached blonde to her family and cringes. Then she pictures her in a wedding dress and with a baby bump.

With a breath as deep as Morgan Freeman’s voice, she reluctantly heads out and shelves those thoughts altogether. This odd little thing, this informal event that has now occurred a few times with Bianca and the girl with the burns—it doesn’t outshine or overshadow whatever Aria and Kylie have.

It’s as uncomfortable as it is exciting. Aria and Bianca have known each other since they were six. That brings a certain intimacy to a friendship, but Kylie and Lora have brought a little something new. Bianca seems to handle it gracefully, but Aria still struggles.

With the starting positions being what they are, it’s almost a sure thing that either Ferrari or FUTA Racing will have something to celebrate. That means there’ll probably be a little party, just the four of them. Aria doesn’t mind that; it’s just important to be mentally prepared. The same goes for Kylie and Lora. The mingling of excitement and terror is obvious with them as well.

It might be Aria’s imagination, but she suspects that Bianca gets off on that a little. Or a lot; Bianca’s only as tall as Aria’s shoulder and ten kilograms lighter. But the last time Aria saw her in action, Bianca pumped out what looked like enough cum to fill a beer glass, coating Lora’s stomach so much that it dripped down both sides of her body and there was a pool in her belly button.

Aria focuses. Thoughts like that aren’t helpful when she’s on her way to work.

FF1

The only pain is in Alice’s neck; her back isn’t fully healed, but it no longer hurts. The neck thing is from sleeping wrong. Faye likes to be cuddled, but she’s so short that it takes some contortionism to wrap her up properly. The neck pain won’t be a big deal in the car, but it was a big deal with Kylie just now, doing the resistance bands. Alice rubs at it with a wince, gazing at her reflection in her tiny privacy room at the rear of the pit. She has only minutes before she needs to be in the car.

She finishes zipping up her suit. Every second was a struggle at the beginning of this year, and since Japan, time has flown. She remembers the agony of trying to make up her mind about what to do when FUTA Racing started coming apart. Turning down Christian Horner was a good decision, given that he turned out to be a creep, but staying with FUTA?

There’s sweat on her forehead. She’d been able to get comfortable with that once the decision was made, but now it’s here again. This wasn’t the year that it could’ve been in a better car; not even close. But it was still pretty good. The only reason she hasn’t been inundated with offers yet is that the other teams are observing decorum and not pouncing while the team is in disarray. The second this race ends, win or lose, it’ll be a feeding frenzy.

The look that Toto gave Alice yesterday said a lot. He might literally walk up to her today and ask to talk.

She starts to feel the anxiety in her body: her skin hot, her ears burning, a prickliness in her face. She’s always tried to avoid things that make her uncomfortable, but this one can’t be dodged.

There’s a tap at the door. Only Faye knocks like such a massively timid little pussy. Which is misleading, because Faye might be better than anyone that Alice has ever met at facing her fears. Crippling insecurity? Faye still throws herself into intimacy, vulnerability, and a serious relationship with a skirt-chasing American moron. OK, so maybe that’s stupidity, not courage—but what about her driving? She’s terrified of her mother seeing her fail, but she’s still out here in Formula One. Faye’s body is soft like a pillow, but her backbone is steel.

Alice gathers herself and opens the door.

As always, Faye looks like an Oompa Loompa cosplaying as a racing driver.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

“All right is my middle name,” Alice replies, emerging and messing up Faye’s hair, then bending to kiss her lips. “Watch me go score all these touchdowns.”

“Wrong sport, Alice.”

“Oh, right, you snobby Europeans call it a ‘try’, well, that’s just what someone who isn’t a back-to-back Middle East war champ would say.”

“You’re really worried, aren’t you?” Faye asks, following Alice out into the pit. The noise of the track and the chaos of the team used to hit like a truck. Now, Alice hardly notices.

She spots that Aki’s got a few hairs out of place, which is unusual. She didn’t notice Aki in the past, but after everything at the Shigeno, FUTA Racing’s most mysterious employee became that much more mysterious. There’s also something about the super-dignified older Asian woman with a nice figure that Alice, on a less cerebral level, just wants to have sex with.

Alas, she’s married. And Alice senses that Aki is out of her league somehow anyway.

“Me, worried? Ha! Glynda, spank your daughter. She’s trying to start a fight before the race.”

“I doubt that, Alice.”

Glynda looks radiant. Alice doesn’t know what it is, but since the Shigeno, she’s been making such an effort. Her hair is straightened and down, she’s wearing eye makeup, and even—

“Are you wearing earrings?” Alice leans in to look nosily, and Glynda pushes her to arm’s length.

“Are you both clear on what we have to do?”

“Drive the car. Don’t crash it. Don’t swear,” Alice says, counting on her fingers.

“Six points, Alice. Faye. Get me six points today.”

“Sweet cheeks,” Alice says, clapping Glynda on the shoulder. “You keep showing up looking this good, and we’ll get you 44.”

Faye frowns. “44?”

“Yeah. P1 and P2,” Alice replies.

“Alice, P1 and P2 would be 43 points,” Faye says gently.

“Nah, nah, nah. This is why you guys lost the space race. Y’all can’t even do math good. You’re trying to kick the field goal. But in America, you always go for two.”

“Is she drunk?” Glynda asks Faye.

“No. She’s nervous.”

“About what? What’s different about this race?” Glynda demands, annoyed.

“Nothing. I’m not nervous.” Alice rolls her eyes. “I’m just funny. Like Dave Chappelle, but without all the transphobic stuff. Where’s my car? Sebastian, bring my car around.”

Glynda blinks. “What did you call me?”

“Dude, I don’t know any Irish names. Literally the only Irish guy I ever heard of was Cillian Murphy, and don’t tell anyone, but for a long time I said it wrong.”

“You never heard of Liam Neeson?” Faye asks.

Alice gives her a disdainful look. “He’s not Irish.”

Glynda turns away abruptly. “Lora, where are you?” she calls out, striding off.

Faye gives Alice a little smile and squeezes her hand. “You’ll do well.”

Alice needs air. She pushes past Lotte and gets closer to the bay. Of course, the air out there isn’t the freshest. Oil, fuel, rubber, and the distinctive smell of the track. She breathes it in.

Freedom Racing is next door, and Val is outside as well, looking tiny among the men who make up her pit crew. She doesn’t look anything like she did when they were kids, but she’s still short, and that brings back memories.

Someone touches Alice’s arm. It’s time for her brace and helmet.

Alice looks over her shoulder. Coach Adella and Coach Riley are working with the others. Coach Riley sees her looking, smiles, and waves. She reaches out and jabs Coach Adella, who looks up and catches Alice’s eye.

FF1

12 Years ago

Alice has grown up listening to frogs and crickets in the damp parts of Florida, far from the major cities. The Go Kart track is pushed up against the swamp; there’s nothing but a chain-link fence between the Gurlberg Cowgurls and whatever lurks in the gloom out there.

Coach Adella kneels beside Alice’s kart, resting her elbow on it. The frogs are loud, yet it’s still terribly quiet. That quiet, along with the expectation in Coach Adella’s eyes are stiflingly heavy.

“Alice, when we are afraid, we avoid things,” Adella says quietly. “You cannot avoid them. The more you avoid them, the worse the fear gets because you know that you are doing the wrong thing. Feeling bad about yourself does not create confidence.”

“What if I go do it and then it goes bad?” Alice frets.

“Every time we try, that makes it easier the next time. It’s still a win, even if it takes you a dozen losses to get there. You think the world will end if you fail or if someone rejects you, but it doesn’t. You can’t be told that, Alice. You have to live it. Confidence doesn’t come from thinking. It comes from doing. I have lost matches, I have been rejected, and I have been embarrassed. And I will be again, and I know that it’s OK because I have done it all before. Unknown things are scary. If it’s scary and you don’t understand it, you run toward it.”

Alice opens her mouth, only to be cut off by the sudden rumble of an engine and an indignant squawk behind her.

“Alice! Let’s go! You’re blocking traffic!”

Flustered, Alice twists in her cockpit to see Val. Coach Riley is beside her kart, trying not to laugh. Val’s helmet makes her head look huge, and she’s bouncing in her seat, gripping her wheel with white knuckles.

Coach Riley’s apologetic look is heart-stoppingly lovely. “She wants to go,” she says with a shrug.

“Oh my god! Katie, move!” Val shoots forward, crashing into Katie’s kart, bouncing off, and howling off down the track.

Startled, Alice watches her go. “Yah!” she says as Coach Adella puts her helmet on and buckles the chin strap.

Coach Adella looks Alice in the eye. “Going to let her do that?” She gets to her feet and steps out of the way, taking Coach Riley’s hand.

Alice swallows the lump in her throat and puts her hands on the wheel.

FF1

Erica Bruhl is finishing out the year in the Red Bull pit. She can’t sit. Hands on hips, she watches the formation lap. There’s a little melancholy with this being the end of another year, but that’s nothing beside her excitement. New rules, new cars, talk of a new team. New transparency after the Irina Orlova debacle. It’ll be a whole new sport in a few months. Alice and Val will both be free to look for new seats. Lewis is possibly leaving Mercedes and Red Bull is foolishly going to give up Checo.

But there’s a lot on the line in today’s race. It’s really between Max and Val. Max already has the championship, but Val can still get the Constructors for Freedom Racing, which would be astounding for a new team. There are three other instances of teams jockeying for position in the rankings in this final race, but Max and Val are the title card, starting in P3 and P1, respectively. Between them in P2? Alice Wilde.

FF1

Alice pulls into position. Abu Dhabi is hot and sunny. The circuit wavers in the heat, and Val’s red, white, and blue car gleams.

Are people judging her for her stout, awkward little nepo baby girlfriend? Did she blow her chance to live the F1 life by getting serious? Did she give up her chance to be world champ by not going to Red Bull? She’s unquestionably ceded her status as the year’s protagonist to Val. Will that make the difference? Will Val get the seat that will open the door to a world championship instead of Alice now?

Alice recognizes those thoughts for what they are and puts a stop to them as she watches the lights. Coach Adella’s teachings have gotten her this far. As she has many times before, she takes each of those unhelpful thoughts and wrestles them into submission as the national anthem plays.

She knows how much she cares about Faye because of what she felt when she thought that she might lose her; the judgment of others is meaningless. Missing out on fantasies like a threesome with the Woodcock sisters and boning Erica Bruhl is a pity, but Alice cannot confuse that with actual hardship when there are things like wars and famine in the world. The Red Bull choice was good in light of Horner’s conduct, and even if it was bad, she can’t change it now. All she can do is learn from it, and she knows how she will approach it differently if it comes up again. Val has earned everything that she’s gotten this year. Alice can take responsibility for her actions, but it’s impossible to know how impactful her actions were in light of the depth of Irina’s meddling. Even if it’s all on her, it doesn’t change the fact that all she can do is try to be better.

The music is over, and the lights are coming on, one set at a time.

“Alice? Are you ready?” Glynda asks in her ear.

“I was born ready,” Alice replies without hesitation.

“All right. Let’s have a good, clean start.”

“Will Faye still love me if I screw up?”

“Let’s focus on the lights, Alice.” There’s a pause. “You know she will.”

Alice smiles in her helmet. “What about you?”

“I’ll love you more if you watch the lights.”

“Hey, if I get you those six points that let us beat McLaren,” Alice says.

“Watch the lights. Yes?”

The fifth light comes on.

“Will you show me your tits?” Alice asks.

The lights go out before Glynda can reply. Alice takes that as a yes and slams her accelerator to the floor.

The End!

[ Thanks for reading, and good job hanging in for 400+ chapters! I appreciate it. Look for a new futa story to start Monday in Futa Soccer Camp, check out my blog if you want to know the latest messy thoughts I have about what might be coming next, and buy all my FF1 playsets and toys on Patreon! ]