Daniel
Now that the adrenaline had escaped my body I was rethinking everything that happened tonight. The race was magnificent, all the sensations it gave me and the good memories it brought me, but I was afraid that the idea of returning to illegal racing would get into my head. After the accident I promised myself that I would never do it again in my life, that I had to put a stop to everything that was consuming me, but tonight, unexpectedly, and feeling cornered between a rock and a hard place by Marco, I had to break my own promise and compete in the streets, putting my life at risk after two years. But what bothered me most of all is knowing that I had enjoyed it, that I had loved to return. It wasn't right.
I knew myself, I knew that the idea unconsciously was now hovering in my mind, not only because of the incredible sensations of running, but because of the good money that was bet. In my past I was a great racer, my father had taught me to drive and then he put me in competitions, where I never lost a race, until my car overturned. The rules in illicit racing specify that, if any runner has an accident, he has to pay the money wagered; in case the driver dies, the relatives will take care of paying the debt. My debt was still debt, a fresh one and that was increasing more and more, because I did not pay a single penny, because two years ago things in my life were already plummeting and I did not have enough money to pay the debt, but since I was stupid, I bet the money I did not have, and like a kind of karma, my car slipped and overturned.
"What about you, Marco?" I asked him, upset about tonight.
He looked at me attentively.
"How are you going to bet all that amount of money? Now it's duplicated, you've gone over the line. Nor am I so stupid" I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head, not understanding my friend.
"I already told you I'm sorry, I won't bet so much money again."
"What you should do is put this aside, stop getting into illegal races that get you nowhere. You should get a job."
"What do you think I've been doing all this time?" I've almost traveled the entire city since we arrived in Seattle and I can't get a job, no one has called me yet, and it's completely understandable, no one wants a criminal as a worker.
"No one here knows you've been in jail, Marco," I said. At the age of eighteen he was locked up for selling drugs in a famous London club. He was imprisoned for a couple of months, maybe five, if I remember correctly, and was able to get out because our band's lawyer did a good deal with the judge. Marco wanted to be sentenced to three years in prison, but he took the minimum sentence.
I stared at Marco. There was no way for them to know here that Marco had been imprisoned. He had to get that stupid idea out of his head.
"What do you know?" "He sat reluctantly on the sofa.
"I know because you haven't put on your resume that you've been in jail, Marco. You should leave it. Seriously. You are dragging me too because of your stupid eagerness to run and get money."
"My stupid eagerness? Do you think I want to stay involved in these things? It's my only way out, I can't find a job and I don't want to have to stay in the apartment when you and Derek go out to work. It's frustrating."
I wanted to understand it. To some extent, he did, but there were other ways for him not to feel useless. Also, Derek and I didn't claim anything from Marco, we knew it wasn't his fault not to get a job. It was a matter of time, with all the resumes he took to the different businesses, it was a matter of time before Marco was called.
I thought about all the money we should pay if I lost next week.
"But what about all that money? Why did you bet so much?"
"I wanted to bet less, but Louis and Troy didn't want to accept.
"Then you would have retired! You didn't accept, you left, and you didn't have to worry." I raised my voice, upset.
Marco gave his beer a drink.
"We don't have that m
oney.
"I know we don't have that money, Daniel! I know!"
"Worst of all, now I'm into this," I rubbed my face in frustration.
I had a great burden on my shoulders, if I lost we would have a debt and neither Derek's work nor mine were going to be able to repair the mess that Marco was getting us into. Most illegal brokers are dangerous. I've run into a lot of really alarming people in the past, and judging by the looks and attitudes I saw today in Louis and Troy, I could tell they weren't good people.
"Excuse me, yes?" I wouldn't have gotten you into this, you know no, Daniel. I know it was hard for you and believe me it was too, because I know what racing means to you after what happened to you. He was scared to death. I didn't know what to do.
"The issue is, Marco, that as long as you are still involved in illegal issues, I will be involved. And Derek the same. Because when you get into trouble, we will fall into the same bag as you."
"At least we made some good money today. Troy lost."
I sighed.
Troy lost and paid us half the money wagered, as the other half was kept by Louis. It was a draw and it was only fair that we had half for each one. Yes, it was good money, but if I lost to Louis, that money we won we were going to have to give it to him and we would still lack to fulfill the bet.
"But if I lose...," I began to say.
"You won't lose," Marco cut me off, looking at me seriously. I gave my beer a long drink. I've seen you race tonight, Daniel: you haven't lost your skill on the track. You're still great.
My alarm went off on Monday morning, at 8 a.m.
"Turn that thing off!" I want to sleep! Derek yelled at me from the next room.
I listened to him.
I did not usually wake up so early, I set the alarm clock early so I could talk to my boss, so that I could see that I was very sorry to have disappeared the other day from work, in the middle of the shift. When I called him, he didn't answer, so I tried about two more times and the third time he answered.
"Hello?"
"Boss, I'm Daniel. Daniel Mickerson." I didn't like having to say boss at all, never before I started this job did I have to address a person like that.
"Ah... the security guard who disappears on his shift and does not warn before."
"I'm sorry."
"It was stupid to send Nat as a messenger bird," he replied. I wanted to correct her and tell her that the girl's name was Nathaly, not Nat. She didn't like being called that.
I had to apologize a couple more times for him to end up forgiving me for my lack of commitment to the job. It was too early, too early to feel like listening to that man complaining. When I finally hung up on him, I decided to sleep a while longer.
In the afternoon I left the apartment to go to a coffee shop I discovered last week, when I was touring the city in search of interesting places to visit with Marco and Derek. The coffee was good, better than the one at my favourite café there in London. I walked into the business and saw a long line. Cursed.
When I looked to the side, at the table in the background, I saw a chestnut girl, with green eyes and a perfect smile laughing. It didn't take me long to realize that it was Nat. I stared at it for a moment, noticing how fresh and interesting it was to my eyes. She noticed that I was watching her and ended up giving me a smile, to which I immediately reciprocated.
Nat said something to her friends and got up from her seat to walk towards me.
"What a surprise to find you here," he smiled.
"I can say the same thing."
"I always come here with my friends after studying in the library. How are you, Daniel? Have you talked to the boss?"
I nodded.
"This morning."
"When he asked about you the other day I was very upset."
"He made it clear in the call we had," I replied.
Nat turned his eyes to a table. In it was a young boy with an open book and a cup of coffee on the table. He looked in our direction. I assumed he and Nat knew each other.
"Is it your boyfriend?" I was curious.
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"So who is he? Your lover?" I inquired.
"He's my philosophy professor at the university.
I expanded my smile. I looked at the guy once again, noticing that he kept seeing us.
"Don't tell me... Your teacher?"
"Why do you say it that way?" Nathaly pursed her eyebrows. Please, she knew perfectly well why she told her that way. It was clear that this man did not want to be only his teacher. The way he looked at her betrayed everything. Nathaly had to be careful. Often these things never end well.
"He's eating you with his eyes. It's not legal, at least not in my country." I shrugged.
"He's not flirting with me," he replied.
I didn't believe him.
"Have you ever said something to you in an unprofessional way?" And I'm not just talking about something sexual. "I jumped in line and Nathaly did it with me to continue our talk.
Nathaly looked down for a moment, thoughtfully. I knew I had hit the nail on the head.
"Well, today he left me his phone number in my notebook."
Laughed.
"What a professional your teacher is," I said sarcastically, shaking my head. And what are you going to do? Will you talk to him?
"No, of course not," he replied right away.
I observed his teacher one last time, who was still watching us. How pathetic.
"You have to be careful, Nathaly. Do not fall into the games of that type of teachers, they have thousands of students and want to throw themselves into more than one." I advised, serious.
"I won't fall."
I wanted to believe him, but something told me that Nathaly would end up falling.