37
The road trip back to Jerez is fun. Listening to my dad and his friends telling jokes makes me want to die laughing. When we get to town, Fernando insists we go for drinks to celebrate my triumph, but I decline his invitation. When we get to my house, without changing or anything, I unload the motorcycle from the trailer, grab my trophy, and race to the villa, where Eric is waiting for me.
When I get to the gate, I call in, and the enormous white gate opens two seconds later. I speed down a path completely bordered by pine trees. In the distance, I see the house, and Eric. It looks like he’s talking on the phone. I gun the engine, jump, scramble, and with a dust cloud spinning around me like a halo, I brake and come to a full stop, raise my trophy high, and proudly look at him.
“You missed it. You missed my victory.”
Eric doesn’t smile. He turns off his cell, turns around, and disappears into the house.
Surprised by his reaction, I jump off my bike and follow him. I can’t stand it when he gets like this. I take off my goggles and helmet and leave them on a table. Eric is in the kitchen, getting a drink of water.
“How could you leave without saying anything to me?”
“You were very busy.”
“But, Eric . . . I wanted you to be there.”
“And I didn’t want you doing that crazy stuff.”
“Eric . . . Listen . . .”
“No, you listen. If you have to go do jumps on your bike again, don’t count on me, understand?”
“Fine . . . but c’mon, don’t be such a baby.”
My words hurt him, and he gets even angrier.
“I told you I didn’t want you taking risks, and you just went on with your little game without thinking about how I feel. You could have killed yourself before my very eyes, and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. My God, how can you be so inconsiderate?”
He moves away from me. This all strikes me as excessive.
“I’m not being inconsiderate. I know what I’m doing.”
“Yes, of course . . . I have no doubt. And to top it off, I had to deal with that Fernando guy.”
“Oh no . . . You can’t do that, mister,” I respond, now angry too. “I don’t think you have a right to reproach me about the motocross, but fine, I can understand that. But now you’re going to reproach me about Fernando too? No way!”
“‘Our girl,’ says the imbecile!” sputters Eric. “He never stopped with the jabs in front of me. I didn’t beat his face in out of respect for your father and his father, but if it had been up to me . . .” And before I can say anything, he asks directly, “You said you had something going with him once—do you still?”
I don’t respond.
“Answer me.”
“Have I asked you for a list of all the friends you play with?” I ask. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to have something with me without . . .”
“I know very well what you’re referring to. But I think you’re mature enough to understand that what’s between us has changed.”
“Oh yeah?”
He grunts but doesn’t change his expression.
“I asked you a question. I’ve always been honest with you. When I went looking for you after Asturias, you asked me if I had played around with Amanda, and I was honest. You can’t be honest now?”
“OK, I’ve had sex with Fernando.”
“Here, before I arrived?”
“No, nothing . . .”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I slept with him in Madrid but not here.” Eric curses, but I continue. “Since I’ve been here, there’ve only been a couple of kisses and . . .”
“That guy is not the kind who’s satisfied with just kisses. I’ve seen how he looks at you, and when he talked about sharing the beer, God . . . I could have bashed his face in!”
“I’ve never been with him the way I’ve been with you because he’s not you, goddamn it. And you know what? I’m leaving. I don’t want to hear any more BS from you. When you calm down, call me, and maybe I’ll forgive you for this.”
I turn around, grab my helmet and goggles, and—still lugging the trophy—I leave the house, start my bike, and take off. Who does Eric think he is, talking to me like that? Why is it that I demand nothing from him, but he feels he can make demands on me? When I get to the white gate, it opens so I can exit. I push the accelerator, but before I cross, I brake and scream in frustration. I get off the bike and kick the air a couple of times. I could kill Eric when he gets like this.
The white gate closes after an instant, and for a few minutes, I squat on the ground and just close my eyes. Eric exhausts me. His constant mood swings discombobulate me; I never know what he wants and, even less, how to proceed.
Suddenly, I hear a roaring sound. I lift my head and see Eric on his motorcycle coming toward me. He stops the bike, kicks the kickstand into place, and climbs off.
“How can you be so cold?” I ask.
“With practice.”
I sigh and get up off the ground.
“You exasperate me, Eric. I can’t deal with you. There are times I just want to murder you. You think you’re the king of the world! But you’re so stubborn, bossy, intransigent, and . . .”
“You’re right.”
His response surprises me.
“Could you repeat what you just said?”
Eric smiles.
“You’re right, sweetness. I’ve crossed the line. I took out on you all my anxiety about seeing you jump on that damned bike and the stuff Fernando was saying.” When he sees I’m going to say something, he interrupts me. “I don’t want to talk about that guy anymore. What’s important here is you and me.”
His smile. He’s so handsome when he smiles. “Why do we have to argue about everything?”
“I don’t know.”
“We argue about everything except sex.”
“Mmm . . . That’s a good place to start, no?”
We laugh, and Eric lifts me up. He kisses my knuckles.
“You took ten years off my life today.”
“You’re exaggerating.” But I smile anyway.
Eric nods, but his face darkens and he closes his eyes.
“Jude, my sister Hannah was killed three years ago. She was like you, full of energy and vitality. One day, she invited me to go bungee jumping with her and her friends. We had a great time until her cord . . . and . . . I . . . I couldn’t do anything to save her life.”
My heart breaks for him.
“That’s the real reason I couldn’t stick around to see what you were doing.”
“I’m sorry . . . I . . . I didn’t know.”
“I know, love.” He squeezes me tight. “Now smile, please. I need you to smile and to not ask me anything about what I’ve just said. It hurts too much, and I don’t want to remember it. OK?”
Without another word, Eric kisses me with real passion. I smile and try not to think about the tragedy he just revealed to me; I try to let love lead me.
A few minutes later, he picks up the trophy I’m still carrying around, and he looks at it. He grins. He lets me go and gets on his motorcycle, still carrying my trophy.
“Let’s go back to the house, champ. Let’s give your victory the celebration it deserves.”