I take it and tuck it under my arm.
Full Throttle smells like burnt rubber and adrenaline even from the parking lot. The building hums with engine noise, distant screams of excitement, the industrial drone of ventilation systems working overtime. Chesca's practically vibrating as we walk toward the entrance.
"I'm going to beat you."
"We will see."
"Jax says I have really good racing instincts."
"Jax lets you win at Mario Kart."
"That's what Xander says, but Xander's just mad because I beat HIM too." She tilts her chin up, challenge issued. "I've been practicing. Need for Speed. Jax showed me how to take corners without braking."
Video game training. Wonderful.
"Then I will have to be careful."
"Yeah." She grins, all teeth. "You will."
Inside, the noise swallows us. Engine whine, rubber on concrete, the hum of ventilation systems trying to clear exhaust. A teenager in a company polo leads us to the family track, karts capped at a speed Angelina would approve of. I leave Kiku onthe bench beside the pit area, purple shell facing out so she can see it from the course. Chesca bounces on her toes while we wait, eyeing the course with the focus of a general surveying a battlefield.
"Okay." The attendant gestures to a purple kart. She gasps like it was destined. He helps her climb in. "Let's get you strapped up."
She sits still for the harness, but her leg jitters against the seat. Her first real race.
I crouch beside her kart. She adjusts the helmet, a standard track rental nowhere near as cool as Kiku, and it wobbles when she moves her head, too big even on the smallest setting.
"I'm going to beat you," she says again.
"You already said that."
"I'm saying it again so you remember." She straightens up.
The corner of my mouth twitches.
"That means you're scared."
Smart kid, too smart.
"Maybe."
Not of losing, but of this. Of her small hands gripping the steering wheel, her feet flat on the pedals, her quick tap of the gas that makes the kart lurch forward.
The attendant steps back and gives me a thumbs-up, then gestures toward the adult karts lined up on the other side of the track.
Chesca flashes me a look through the visor.
"You're going down, Cole."
I am, just not the way she thinks.
My kart is twice the size of hers, the engine louder. I pull up to the starting line beside her. She's already got both hands on the wheel, knuckles white, leaning forward like sheer will can make her faster.
The light turns green.
She has zero fear. Takes the first corner like she's been doing this her whole life, cutting inside clean, hitting the apex like she's done this a thousand times. All those hours with Jax on Need for Speed, apparently. My kart pulls even on the straightaway. She glances over, eyes narrowed behind the visor.
I could pass her. I map the racing line, calculate acceleration curves, identify three opportunities to overtake.