‘Death isn’t funny,’ I reply, more sharply than I intend. ‘And you have me wearing this thing. When people put on helmets, it’s usually to protect themselves from some sort of grave danger.’
‘Oh, really?’ Darien laughs. ‘I put that thing on you so I don’t have to hear you complaining about the lack of safety measures before I bring us down.’
‘Sorry,bring us down?’
‘Yeah. What, you think learning this stuff is as easy as controlling a car on even land?’ He doesn’t quite meet my gaze. ‘We’re going down the hill.’
I think this is my cue to begin to shut down so that I will actually survive the ride down the hill. I stare at the dashboard, my only thought being that we aresodead.
‘You good?’ tries Darien. I can tell that this is not him actually asking if I’m okay but him hiding ‘you put us in this situation’ behind sympathy.
I nod, this weird little jerk of my neck that is definitely not good. ‘This is. A lot.’
‘Told you.’
‘Of course you did.’ I sigh, pressing my hands to my knees. I just cannot leave well enough alone, and this is the consequence. I remind myself this is what I need to help our program, but that notion became moot ages ago. We are clearly here because two stubborn people could not shut the hell up.
‘Hey.’ Darien flicks his eyes my way. ‘Give me your hand.’
My eyebrows scrunch in surprise beneath the helmet. I’mtoo flabbergasted and nervous to protest. I extend my hand, and he grabs it firmly in his strong, warm one. ‘You’re not in some unforeseeable future right now, Shantal. You’re with me. In this very well-reinforced car that has survived a billion things much worse than this, and you’re about to get some logical insight into why I drive how I do, just like you wanted.’
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Okay.’ My breathing quickens as I take in the fact that we’ve stopped at the top of the hill. The entire beach sparkles below us, and we are level with a handful of other favelas that still buzz with activity. There’s a lot to see, but Darien and I are concentrated on one another, the only things that matter in here. I can hear him breathe, quiet inhales and exhales that are much more controlled than mine. ‘I’m just … scared.’
‘I know.’ He squeezes my hand, and a rush of reassurance fills me up, slowing my panic. Even through the tint of the visor, I see the rawness in his eyes, a part of him that is completely and utterly true. ‘I still get scared, too. But that’s what makes me careful.’
I can’t do much except watch him as he turns the car around at a narrow plaza atop this hill, Cantagalo. He revs the engine on the Corvette hard so that the whole thing shakes loudly. A couple of people in the plaza are gathering around, murmuring excitedly as they take out their phones and turn on flash.
Darien shoots me a grin. ‘You ready to hang on?’
I immediately grip whatever I can find in my vicinity, including the little handle above the door. I’ll probably be needing it.
I’ve scarcely got a second to prepare myself before we shoot forward and drop off down the hill. There’s a strangled yelp that apparently comes from me. Darien veers to the side to make sure we don’t flatten someone’s dog, and then to the other sideto avoid a popsicle stand. My stomach has plummeted right to the floor of this car. I severely underestimated the steepness of this hill.
‘SHIIITTT!’ I yell as we take a particularly nasty turn. We go over a hump that makes our car jump before it hits the ground again with all four wheels. I think my ass flies right off the seat.
‘You wanna see how I learned?’ Darien shouts over the engine.
‘I don’t know!’ I squeak.
On the next curve, he yanks the wheel, grits his teeth. My breath refuses to leave my lungs as the car drifts around a building of treacherously constructed flats, clearing a row of vendor stands and forcing us to slingshot out the other side. I have moved to cling to the reinforcement bar now. The handle was not enough.
We skid around the next few turns, and what Darien does next is vaguely familiar. He uses his racing line to let the tug on the car pull us right through. A quick swerve here and there to avoid some more dogs – is that a lizard? – and then a lurching stop as we reach a hill-free street. I’m jolted into Darien’s side and, instinctively, I latch on to him, like he’s the reinforcement bar. He’s all muscle: muscle that I feel tense and relax with every movement.
‘You made it,’ he laughs, knocking my visor up. I don’t let go just yet. My entire body is shuddering, probably from way too much adrenaline. My eyes flutter dizzily, but they lock on to his.
‘We,’ I struggle for breath, ‘are a long way … from London.’
‘Yep. Rio.’ He pops open his door with a smile. ‘You can let go, Shantal. It’s okay.’
I give Darien’s arm an awkward little pat before disentangling myself from him. Oh, my god. I must have looked like an idiot. I move slowly towards my door and creep out of the car; theflat ground does not feel real. I catch Darien watching me with a grin. At first, I think he’s just tickled by my naïveté again, but there’s a hint of admiration there. For what, I don’t know. Nevertheless, I return his expression with my own tiny smile.
A crowd quickly begins to form around us, locals chattering in excited Portuguese like the ones at the top of the hill, phones out and at the ready. Before I can lose Darien among the wave of oncoming fans, though, I reach out for his hand. And just as I do, he also holds out his arm in search of mine. Our fingers meet in the middle, and we hang on to each other for dear life.
‘You look good,’ he says, ‘in my helmet.’
One minute, Shantal. You get one minute to be an emotional teenage girl over this. That’s it.
I pick a stray curl out from the hinge of the visor. My face is warm with a combination of embarrassment and something completely different.
