Page 26 of Tailwind

I paused before answering, willing myself to forget the one other set of statistics seared into my brain entirely against my will. ‘No.’

‘Liar,’ she replied. ‘Who else?’

My jaw flexed. ‘Vaspre.’

Her head cocked. ‘Interesting.’

‘No. No, definitely not interesting.’ I shuffled back to lean against the opposite bunk. I pulled another binder open at a random page and pretended to read.

‘Why him?’

I waved a dismissive hand in the air. ‘Don’t you have the answer to that in your records?’

‘You were teammates for two years in the Wyvern Series,’ she mused. ‘You entered Junior Drake at the same time, at eight years old. So, you know one another.’

My toes curled. Yes, I most definitely knew Theo Vaspre.

‘Oh.’ She smiled. ‘You hooked up.’

I shot up straight, the binder went flying. ‘No!’

Josie only wiggled her brows in response.

‘No, really!’ I grew serious. ‘Theo Vaspre is a self-centred pretty boy who also happens to be a half-decent rider. He uses his fake smile to get ahead and lure people into a false sense of security, and then uses their vulnerability to get ahead. He cannot be trusted. Everything he does is to amuse himself, because if he ever took anything seriously he would combust like he was made of breath ignition.’

I did my best to communicate in just a few words a lifetime of knowing Theo Vaspre. It wasn’t enough though. No words could do it justice.

‘You should avoid him at all costs, Josie. He’s not worth it.’

The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘So, you spend a lot of time thinking about him, huh?’

I hadn’t spoken to anyone about Theo in a long time, not even Cam. His name being out in the open made my eye twitch.

‘It’s survival instinct.’ My elbows rested on my knees as I clasped my hands together. ‘My mind, body and soul won’t let me forget that he is willing to throw away anything to win.’

‘Mhm. So you have his race records memorized like you do for your hero, Bach Lotiere.’

I nodded. ‘Yes. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way it is.’

‘I’m not going to lie, Lena. That’s really weird.’

I grimaced and suffered another nod of agreement. ‘I didn’t choose to be this way.’

‘Luckily for you, I’m smart enough to know I can use weird.’ She relaxed against the bunk behind her and played with the page corners.

‘What do you mean?’ I didn’t much like the idea of being used. Not again.

‘It seems talking to you in numbers won’t do us any good. It’s not a shared language for us to communicate in. Which, while it’s a problem, isn’t insurmountable. Especially now that I know what to translate to.’

I waited for her to continue, but she’d ended like her point had been made.

‘Yeah you’re going to have to be more specific than that.’

She sighed. ‘I can tell you what to do by asking you to copy strategies and manoeuvres from Bach’s previous races. For example, if Ballenir’s Omar Wilver is ahead of you and I suggest you increase velocity by lowering the strato differential …’

My eyes glazed over.

‘Exactly.’ She’d opened up yet another reference page. ‘If I suggested you pull a Lotiere on Fuger—’