Page 58 of Adrenalina (The Rush World)

When people say Brazil is hot, they mean it. It’s December and the heat is as if we were dipped in molten lava. The humidity fogs up my sunglasses and I throw off my sweatshirt as quickly as I can.

Originally, Xavier was going to have us all fly commercial. I offered to pay for our tickets and he said no immediately. We didn’t fly commercial; he called in a favor with his friend. After we drove from Acapulco to Mexico City, I took the twins to our parents’ house to pick up their things and stopped by my apartment for my travel documents.

The private jet, a very fancy favor, was waiting for us two hours after we got to Mexico City. I never realized how connected Xavier was until he called a private jet in the span of five hours. I have flown private before, with my dad once or twice. But he never let me use his plane. Plus, I always thought flying private as much as I travel would increase air pollution. So I don’t even ask for his plane anymore. To be honest, I don’t ask my father for anything.

Once we arrived at Rio De Janeiro’s private airport, a van was waiting for us right when we walked off the plane. All of us hopped into the car after a ten-hour plane ride in Brazil’s capital city. We weren’t tired since all of us fell asleep immediately on the plane, except for Cleo.

Xavier’s house is impressive sitting in the Leblon district, a detail he didn’t fail to mention on the way up. We drove into the driveway of a white mansion; the beach sitting below a cliff to its right. The aura is peaceful, and it looks like Xavier has his own little oasis. Inside the main house, there are six bedrooms, an impressive kitchen, a living room, a movie theatre on the bottom floor, and a pool in the backyard. Then there’s a guest house next to the pool, which has one bedroom where Sofia and Jeff are staying for the week. Both of our trainers didn’t complain about the housing situation. That left a massive grin on Xavier’s face.

The complex has two tennis courts and a gym in the clubhouse, which I know Xavier and I will be using in preparation for our upcoming seasons.

Walking around his favorite house as he likes to call it, he didn’t fail to mention all of his plans for the days ahead. We would stay in Rio for about a week until we would fly to Sao Paulo, his home city, and stay with his mom for Christmas and New Year’s. He has a whole agenda planned. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about it. There is so much to see with such little time, and considering our training sessions on top of the plans Xavier has made, we won’t have as much time.

“Fuck, it’s like a sauna out here,” Sofia says as she takes a sip of her water, wiping off sweat from her forehead.

“I never knew a place could be so humid in the summer,” I reply as I bend over, breathing heavily. I feel like I’m going to throw up. We played two rounds of three sets with six games in each. I won the first two out of three and the second we went to a third set since me and Sofia were tied one to one.

“This is good,” Sofia replies, pausing as she takes another sip of her water. “You need to prepare for Australia. The sun will be blazing on your skin. You’ll be dry heaving at points. It’s good you decided to come here. It’s hotter than Acapulco. The environment is just as important as training when it comes to prep,” she points out.

I can barely understand her words as I sit down, trying to block my face from the sun.

I fail.

“You’re getting into better shape. I think you’ll be in tip-top order by the time the Australian Open rolls around.”

The first grand slam and opener of my season.

Some tennis players decided to play all year round. Early in my career, I was playing match after match to up my ranking. But now I’ve become more selective about what matches I play.

I nod, knowing there’s more work to be done. But not today. I need air conditioning.

ASAP!

Saying bye to Sofia, I walk out of the court with my bag over my shoulder. My legs and breath are still shaky moving up the cobblestone path that leads to the house.

After a tiring climb, I make it to the front door. Twisting the handle, a breeze of cold, crisp air hits me. I moan out in delight. Closing the door quickly, I shove my shoes off my feet and walk toward the white couch. I plop onto the cushioned sofa in pleasure. I want to stay here forever.

Sitting there happily, I don’t move for God knows how long. My eyes close in exhaustion.

“Blondie!” Xavier calls out.

I don’t know where he is in the house, but I groan at the sound of his voice throwing a pillow over my face.

As if that will hide me from him.

“Blondie,” he says again in question.

I don’t answer.

His steps get closer. “There you are.” His voice is right in front of me.

“Yea.” I manage to strangle out.

He laughs, then I feel a dip in the cushion right next to me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone genuine.

“The weather in this country wants to kill me,” I reply, my words coming out a bit muffled.

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