Page 8 of Now and Forever

My stomach flips, and suddenly all my confidence fades.

I decide not to look at him. After kissing Frida, I greet Andrés with affection and then little Glen, who’s in his arms. When it’s Eric’s turn to be acknowledged, I still won’t meet his eyes.

“Good morning, Mr. Zimmerman.”

“Hello, Jude.”

His voice upsets me.

His presence upsets me.

All of him upsets me!

But I gather the strength I keep for moments like this and introduce the group to my bewildered sister.

“Raquel, I’d like you to meet Frida, Andrés, and little Glen, and this is Mr. Zimmerman.”

Eric just looks at me with his usual bad-tempered expression.

“Judith, you’re up next,” says Fernando, who’s come to give me a heads-up.

Suddenly, he sees Eric and stops. They greet each other with a nod, and I look over at Frida.

“I have to go. I’m number eighty-seven. Wish me luck.”

David Guepardo, the biker I was hanging out with before, comes by and wishes me luck. I smile and, without further ado, walk away, accompanied by Raquel and Fernando. When we’re far enough from the others, I give my sister the piece of paper I’ve been holding in my hand.

“Will you put David’s phone number in my cell, please?”

My sister nods. “Wow,” she exclaims. “Eric is here!”

“Oh joy,” I say ironically.

But my sister is an incurable romantic.

“Judith, for God’s sake! That hunk of a man is crazy about you.”

I feel like strangling her. “Not one more word, Raquel. I don’t want to talk about it.”

But my sister ... is my sister.

“By the way,” she says, “calling him Mr. Zimmerman was interesting.”

“Raquel, shut up!”

“Wow, wait till Papá finds out he’s here!”

“Not a word to Papá that he’s here. I don’t need him all excited. And before you continue with your gossip and Mexican soap opera, I’ll remind you there’s nothing between Mr. Zimmerman and me. What don’t you understand about that?”

Fernando tries to make peace.

“Girls, c’mon, enough. It’s not worth it.”

We get to where my father, Bicharrón, and Lucena are waiting. I put on my helmet and goggles and listen to what my father has to tell me about the motorcycle setup. Afterward, I mount and head toward the front gate. I wait with the other riders until they let us on the track.

Hidden behind my goggles, I search for Eric. I can’t ignore him. Anyway, he’s so tall, it’s impossible not to spot him. He looks awesome with those low-waisted jeans and a black cable-knit sweater.

But then he’s the kind of man who’d be impressive even wearing a piece of lettuce on his head. He’s talking to Andrés and Frida; his face radiates tension. From behind his silver Aviator Ray-Bans, I know he’s looking for me, but I’m small and he can’t find me among all the racers, which gives me an advantage.

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