In the end, giving her money was my best option. A thousand dollars would go a long way for her if she managed it properly. I worried about the rift this had caused with her dad, but Uncle John always told me that actions have consequences. He also said not to take on other people’s burdens.
My time with Bianca, on the other hand, was amazing. Dancers had unreal body control, which can make sex creative, to say the least. Even though I enjoyed that aspect of her life, the age difference was a problem. I know that I’m not an average teen; I have responsibilities that most people don’t take on until they’re in their thirties. Her being a dancer at the top of her game wasn’t the issue. It was just that we were at different places in our lives.
Bianca had just gotten out of a relationship she expected to lead to marriage, a family, the whole shebang. Heck, I couldn’t even go as far as to have a girlfriend. I understood the need for meaningless sex to get over someone; I’d done it myself. The fact was I was her rebound guy, and there was never going to be a future for us. I liked her and hoped we would be friends, but I didn’t like her enough to be more than that.
What made me decide that it had to end had to do with my change of focus towards getting ready for football and baseball. That reminded me of the girls I had at home. I liked Halle, Brook, Pam, and Zoe just fine, and I realized that I’d rather wait a week to see them than continue to spend time with Bianca.
I felt a shudder go through my body. Was this the first step towards a commitment?
I needed to beat that idea right out of my head.
◊◊◊ Friday June 10
Over the past week, I’d gotten serious about training. My security team had gotten smart and rented a cab to follow me around in while I did my morning run. At six-four, my stride was too long for any of them to keep up when I ran. I was unwilling to slow down to accommodate their pace.
I settled into a good speed and fell into the zone that allowed me to think.
Coach Conde and his team had worked hard with me. He used me as an example of the dedication it took to make it to the top. They even started doing
Coach Conde told me that the Cubs had contacted him about the pitcher I’d sent them video on. Their biggest issue would be getting him to the States. In the meantime, Coach Conde reevaluated him and agreed to get him the coaching and training he needed.
Luis pulled me aside and told me that his sister had moved in with Paz. Sarita wanted me to know that she was sorry for what she’d done. She had no idea I spoke Spanish. She’d been shocked when my interview appeared on local TV. Sarita realized the jig was up because she’d talked to her friends in front of me. I told him I harbored no ill will and that I only wished her the best.
As a treat for the team, I gave Coach Conde some money and asked that he take them to Paz’s restaurant for dinner. It was one of the best places I’d eaten at while I was here.
The movie was doing great, now that Kitty was directing. The plan was for my part to wrap up either today or tomorrow. It all depended on whether they needed to reshoot anything. Our flight left bright and early Sunday morning. I was already planning what I would eat as soon as we landed in Miami. Whatever it was would have hot sauce on it.
I learned how to make Cuban coffee, or ‘liquid crack’ as Paul was now calling it. It was basically espresso with sugar froth. That surely couldn’t be bad for you. I planned to add it to the menu at Granny’s West. I thought if we gave it away to start, we would soon have a legion of coffee addicts begging to pay any price to get it. The good news was it was legal. My only fear was it might kill some decaf drinkers. I considered possibly making customers sign one of those death-thingy documents Devin always had me sign when he wanted me to try out one of his new toys. If we opened a place near State’s campus, Cuban coffee would pull them in in droves.
I had arrived at the entrance to the hotel, so I sprinted to the front door. Even at this time of day, you could feel the heat and humidity. I was drenched and needed about a gallon of water to rehydrate.
“Jesus, Dawson. Have you ever thought about competitive running?” Fritz asked as he got out of the cab.
I ignored him and began to stretch. He knew my routine and handed me a bottle of water. I nodded to him, chugged it, and then returned to stretching. My breathing gradually slowed down to normal.
“Have you figured out who’s going with me to North Carolina?” I asked.
