Page 86 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

We all laugh. Nobody would understand our particular friendship, but we do, and that’s all that matters. When we finish with breakfast, it’s time to go. I see Simona—with so many people in the house and so much activity, we’ve barely talked.

“Everything OK, Simona?”

She nods, but I know she’s not OK.

“I know there’s something going on with Laila.”

She looks up at me, surprised.

“When I get back this afternoon we’ll talk, all right?”

Simona says yes. I hug and kiss her.

“I’ll see you later,” I whisper in her ear.

“Good luck!” she responds, smiling.

At ten thirty, we arrive at the address Jurgen gave me. Dexter, Graciela, Laila, Norbert, and Flyn are with us, and I’m restless and dying to get on my motorcycle. Eric is having an anxiety attack. Marta and Arthur are waiting for us. Sonia apparently can’t come.

I haven’t been able to do jumps on a motorcycle since days before my wedding, and, though I drove several Jet Skis on my honeymoon, it’s not the same, and I can’t wait to mount my Ducati.

We park the car, and Norbert and I go register while Eric brings the motorcycle out of the trailer.

“Number sixty-nine. Pretty sexy, huh?” I say to Eric.

My crazy love smiles, but it’s not a very relaxed smile. I know he’s tense, but he has to chill, and he’s the only one who can help himself with that. Jurgen and I hug. He’s as excited about the race as I am. He gives me a map of the circuit, and, like my father back in Jerez, he tells me about the jumps and on what curves I need to be extra careful so I won’t fall. Eric listens in and memorizes everything Jurgen says.

Jurgen marches off with Laila.

“Remember, be careful on curve number ten, and try to take it easy on fifteen,” Eric says, pointing at the map.

“Yes, sir,” I say and he grins.

Flyn is nervous and delighted with so many motorcycles around. He and Marta accompany me to the dressing rooms and help me put on my jumpsuit.

“Fantastic!” he says when I’m fully equipped for my motocross.

“Jude is our very own superhero,” says Marta as she winks and takes her nephew’s hand.

“You look incredible,” says Laila when we go back to the group.

“Thank you.” I smile.

“Judith, are you sure about this?” whispers Graciela.

With my helmet under my arm, I nod. “Absolutely.”

Eric looks at me but he doesn’t smile. He’s afraid. I’m not.

The race is divided by gender. I accept it, but I prefer when it’s mixed. They tell me I’m in the third round. I watch the first two as I listen to Guns N’ Roses on my iPod.

Music like that always gets my adrenaline going, and to compete and win, I need to be at my peak. I’ve never raced on this particular circuit, and I need to see how the competition works in order to get a handle on my own race. Eric’s beside me, watching and not saying a word. He lets me concentrate, but, every time someone falls, I can see that he’s horrified.

When they call the third round, I give him a quick kiss and put on my helmet. “I’ll be right back; wait for me!” I take off.

I know he’s a mess, but I can’t say goodbye as if I’m going to war. I’m simply running a race that lasts barely seven minutes. Once at the starting line with the other racers, I look for my guy and quickly spot him next to Flyn and Marta. I adjust my helmet and goggles.

I focus on the track. I visualize the circuit I went over with Jurgen and plan to lean to the right on the first curve, which is on the left.

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