Page 63 of The Amazing Date

Just as they did before, they are booing in our direction, sounds which I doubt even reach their ears.

“You remembered.” Roberto’s words snap me back to the present as the music begins to fade.

“Each and every step. Each and every moment. Each and every second I’ve been with you. I’ll always remember.” I fight to catch a breath, and my eyelids flutter to clear the tears welling up in my eyes.

The pad of Roberto’s thumb brushes across my cheek, wiping away the moisture. He leans forward and kisses me for the world to see. It’s at that moment I realize I no longer care about this contest, this competition. I’ve won. I’ve got the man. The man I love.

Our kiss causes the audience to break into another wave of cheers. Catcalls and whistles cause the MC to step to us. “How about that? Show some love for Rylee and Roberto. Good luck, guys. I think you have a competition to complete.”

I nod toward the MC just as Roberto pulls on my hand. We follow the same exit path blazed by Ronnie and Thelma, hopping off the stage, down the middle aisle, high-fiving the crowd as we race toward the exit. But not before we hear the MC. “Coming back to the stage for a second attempt, which I pray goes better than the first, show your love for Kelly and Caitlin.”

I ignore the smattering of claps and boos. They are no longer our concern. Roberto rips open the clue and pumps his fist.

“What is it?”

He holds the door to the street open for me. “I was hoping for a physical challenge now that the blondes are behind us.” Roberto’s gaze scans left, then right. “There.” He points.

Off to the side of the theater is the It Takes Two poster and four skateboards. The sun has set, and the streetlights illuminate the busy street in front of the Apollo. “Are we?”

“Yeah, we have to ride the skateboards all the way to Midtown to the Empire State Building. How far away is that?”

I close my eyes and do a quick calculation. “That’s just under one hundred blocks, almost five miles.” Roberto grabs one of the boards, and I pick up the other as we walk to the curb. “The Empire State Building is on Thirty-Fourth and Fifth Avenue. Fifth Avenue is a straight shot, but it’s filled with buses, taxis, cars, and lights. There’s a bike lane on Second Avenue that would be easier, but…”

Roberto’s hopeful eyes catch mine, and I smile. “We can take Central Park—no lights, three nice long downhills. I doubt any other team will take that route. We’ll definitely pass Ronnie and Thelma, and the girls will never be able to close the distance on us.”

His brightest smile reaches me, and I feel my knees buckle. We are close. The finish must be nearing, and I can almost taste the victory.

“Let’s go.”

We hop onto our matching skateboards and head toward Central Park and our victory.

Chapter 37

Roberto

Rylee’s legs are a blur as she attempts to keep pace with my long strides. I place both feet on my longboard and coast for a bit to allow her to catch up.

“No fair,” she huffs. “Not only are your legs longer than mine, but you live in California.”

I cross my arms against my chest and smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her short legs finally catch up to me as she places her right foot on her board to coast alongside me. “Don’t they automatically give you surfing and skateboard lessons when you cross the border into California?”

She’s not far from the truth. Freshman year in college in LA, my friends introduced me to skateboarding and roller blading at Venice Beach. It’s not something I do often, but I’m proficient enough to keep up with them. “You’re doing great. Just pace yourself and enjoy the downhills.”

We continue to coast down the third long downhill, passing the carousel on the east side of the park. Shrieks of joy from the kids riding the porcelain horses divert my attention away from the road. Couples lying on blankets and chatting dot the landscape. A steady flow of joggers and bikers accompany us on our journey.

Rylee’s decision to select the park has been brilliant. Since entering at 110th Street, we have had a smooth, uninterrupted ride through the heart of Manhattan. I begin to see the appeal. New York appears to be one huge loud city, but in reality, it’s dozens of tightly connected communities, each unique with their own history and culture. It’s the story of America.

Each downhill provides an opportunity to take it all in. The chirping of the birds, the laughter of the children, the click-clops of the horse-drawn carriages. There is activity in every direction. A softball league playing on the dirt fields, the two teams wearing T-shirts from Broadway shows, Wicked versus the Temptations. Only in New York would you discover this melting pot. The next downhill delivers another joy, a performance of Shakespeare at the theater in the park. I pick up at least eight different languages from the line in the two minutes it takes us to pass. I whip my head side to side, attempting to take it all in, knowing I won’t—tourists visiting Strawberry Fields, romantic couples in paddle boats on the lake, a dance troupe rehearsing on the grass.

I wish we had more time to explore all the hidden treasures in this city. I begin to understand why Rylee chose New York City to make her home.

Like an addict, I turn to face her, never getting enough of her beauty. The summer breeze floating through her hair, a brilliant smile of freedom on her face. I memorialize the image. It’s like the floodgates have been pushed open, and the urge to draw a million pieces bounce around my head. I could lock myself away somewhere and draw for a month and still not complete all the pieces I have stored in my head.

“We’re coming up on the park exit at Fifty-Ninth Street. We’ll cut over to Fifth and make our way to the Empire State Building. It’s only about a mile once we exit.” Rylee’s instructions bring me back to the race, the need to focus. I’ve stolen glimpses of the insane Manhattan traffic through the trees in the park. I can only imagine the difficulties Ronnie and Thelma must be facing if they took Fifth Avenue, which is crowded with vehicles and pedestrians. The lights must add to the challenge, killing any ability to build momentum. Rylee shoots me a victorious smile, and I know she is having the same thought.

I try not to get ahead of ourselves, not with the Empire State Building next. I recall Thelma’s assessment of the selection of Mount Rainier by the race committee. It still rings true. They aren’t directing us to one of the tallest buildings in the world not to challenge us.

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