Page 95 of Tell Me What You Want

“Why? Does your Eric not like to share his woman?”

“Let go of me, asshole, or I swear I’m going to deck you right here,” I snarl.

Five minutes later, on the awards podium, I enjoy seeing my father, Lucena, and Bicharrón clapping next to Fernando, all proud of me. I raise the trophy high and realize I would have liked for Eric to be here too.

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?”

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