Page 46 of Rome: The Ballerina

“See you in a bit, Aliza.”

The smirk that pulled my mouth apart left a smile on her pretty face. She hadn’t made it out of the house in fifteenminutes in her entire life. Not even if she was given a head start, everything she needed, and a cash prize.

“See you in a bit.”

Slowly, I ended the call as if it would limit the damage. Aliza was a part of my day that could go on for hours on hours. Silence was no longer of interest after the sound of her voice. I needed something to cope. Something to quiet its sweetness. It watered my mouth and plagued my belly with aches from hunger.

At the stop light, I toyed with the buttons and spiked the volume of my stereo. The beat rattled the seats as EST Gee pushed through the speakers.

“Forever rollin’.”

The two words initiated the rapid fire from the featured artist, one I thoroughly enjoyed listening to, although I couldn’t relate to much of his discourse. Seemingly, he grew up in poverty-stricken neighborhoods and was forced to develop a survivalist mentality that determined if he lived or died on any given day.

Me, on the other hand, was born into a family who inherited wealth and expanded it generation after generation. Still, the production was solid and the lyrics were addictive. I nearly blew my speakers playing the tracks after game wins, good practices, and as I pulled into the tunnel most nights. It was a pregame ritual. Because, for me, my survivalist mentality kicked in moments before my feet touched the wood.

I disobeyed the traffic laws I wasn’t fond of and made my way up the hills. Eventually, I was back on my side of town where homes happened to be few and far apart. The emptiness in my stomach led me to my first destination.

“Welcome to Little Coffee Cottage,” the staff all said at the sound of the bell on the door.

The line met me at the entrance. I couldn’t recall a day I stepped inside and it didn’t. Since the locals learned ofmy favorite breakfast spot, they flooded in, hoping to catch a glimpse of me or any of my teammates I’d introduced to the De Bacco breakfast sandwich. That wasn’t the name it had been given, but it was the name it had adopted over the years.

“De Bacco!” Carmen yelled as she handed the customer their change.

“Carmen.”

I stepped around the guests, making my way to the counter. Carmen’s arms spread wide as she pulled me in for a hug.

“Where have you been? They’ve been looking for you.”

“If I only filled my belly with breakfast sandwiches, my trainer would have my ass.”

It had been a full week since I’d last stopped by. Carmen had counted the days. I was sure she had. She always did.

“Ahhh– I keep forgetting you serve an actual purpose in the city.” She chuckled.

Her eyes sparkled as her cheeks fattened. Her thick frame rocked as she held her chest.

“I’m trying to get you big like me,” she snickered. “I done went up four sizes since working here. I’m blaming you.”

“Don’t blame me, Carmen. That’s all on them,” I said, nodding toward the crew in the kitchen. “Besides, you look good. Ain’t nobody sweating that weight.”

“Here or to go?”

“To go. Aliza is expecting me.”

“Tell my girl I said hello.”

“I will.”

“So, two then?”

I kissed the skin of my teeth and shifted my weight. With a shake of the head, I reminded Carmen, “Nah. She not fucking with the sandwich. Get her one of those lettuce wraps. The lightest one. She’s on a strict diet for her upcoming performance.”

“I know she’ll shine!”

“As always.”

“I’ll have your order in a sec. Coffee at all?”

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