Page 16 of Wild Catch
“You have fifteen minutes to shower and change into your uniforms,” Chen instructs with more authority than I expect out of anyone who isn’t a coach. “See you at the charter bus.”
Great, whatever this is will be offsite too. Fantastic. Not exhausting at all.
I grumble my way through the gym and even during the shower. It truly is a curse brought upon me when, on the way to the parking lot, Rivera hangs himself from my shoulders and Starr’s.
“I bet this is going to be fun,” he yaps in my ear.
Across from him, Starr muses, “Dude, are your feet even touching the floor?”
“I’ll have you know I’m six-one. Not my fault you two are giants,” the Boricua returns in outrage.
“Get off me,” I warn with a glacial tone, rooted firmly on my spot and not moving a single step.
“Aye, captain.” Slowly, he slides all the way to the floor and I’m able to keep going.
I park myself at the seat right behind the driver, ready to bounce the second the bus stops. I don’t use the middle school logic of the cool kids sitting all the way at the back. People can think whatever the hell they want about me. All I need is to have immediate access to the exit.
Unfortunately, the two stooges sit right behind me. Rivera asks, “Dude, why so close to the front when we have the whole bus to ourselves?”
“I bet it’s because he wants to tell the driver how to do his job,” Starr responds.
O’Brian and Mena hop in together, and both of them do a double take at finding us so close to the front.
She’s first, and as she sweeps her eyes down the expansive corridor all the way to the back, I can almost see her brain calculating what her next move will be. Then she takes the seat across the aisle from me, also at the front. Sighing, O’Brian takes the spot behind her.
Last is Chen, who stands by the driver for a second to say, “Thank you for your collaboration, gentlemen. We’re now headed for downtown Mexico City to take a tour bus. The plan is very simple, Rosalina and I will record your impressions about major monuments around the city, hopefully meet some fans along the way, and then we’ll come right back for warmups. Traffic permitting, this should take no more than two hours.”
“Oh…” Rivera elongates the word in his excitement. “Do we get any food?”
Chen nods. “I believe the trainers packed us some snacks.”
“Boo,” Rivera grouches, and I admit even I was looking forward to street food.
“All right, kids,” Mena says in a much more informal way compared to Chen. “Brace yourselves, for I will record every detail.”
“Then stop picking your nose, Cade,” Rivera jokes.
“Pff. I was doing no such thing.” The offense in Starr’s voice makes O’Brian explode in laughter.
I stifle a groan. These are going to be a long two hours.
And of course, Mena is capturing the annoyance in my face with her cellphone camera. “Today’s challenge is to see if we manage to get a smile out of the ultimate grump.”
I turn away only to find the curtain drawn. I push it open and settle in to watch the scenery as we roll away from the sports city, merging into traffic.
The drive to the drop off point is quite short, and all throughout Mena takes advantage of the close confines to do Q&As with the other guys. Mercifully she spares me. I have no doubt that it’s because she feels indebted after yesterday, but I also know it won’t go far enough to spare me the rest of the day.
Sure enough, as we do the swap from the charter bus to the tourist one, she trains her cellphone back on me. “Have you been to Mexico before?”
I may be a grump as she said, but I’m a professional one. The sooner I answer her questions, the sooner she moves on to the other guys.
“Yes, a few times.”
“Really? What did you come to Mexico for those times?”
Shit. I should’ve left it at yes only. Now I’ve stoked her journalistic curiosity.
She’s walking backward into the bus, angling for the stairs that Rivera already took to the open top of the bus. I react before I can stop myself, grabbing her waist to stop her. Mena gasps.
