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“I know, she so beautiful! I no stop thinking about her since we met.”
“In all the years I know you, I never see you actasíwith a woman,” Eduardo says from where he’s standing behind the desk.
Eduardo and I have been friends since we were young kids in Cuba. I’m a year older than him but we grew up on the same block, went to the same school, and had the same circle of friends. He didn’t know I was leaving Cuba because it’s one of those things you don’t talk about, but he had the same plans as me and left about a week after I did. I’m glad he’s here—him and several other friends from my childhood—since my brothers, sisters, and parents are still in Cuba and have no plans of leaving the island. Starting a new life as an adult in Miami was hard, especially by myself, but with friends like Eduardo, who is like a brother to me, it makes it much easier.
After being in Miami for a few years, I opened 305 Scoots with Eduardo. We were both mechanics back in Cuba so together we restore and fix old scooters. We decided to add rentals and sales to our shop here in Miami Beach. With it being a tourist destination all year round, it was an ideal business. Our first few years it went much better than expected and we decided to open a second location on Washington Avenue between Fifth and Sixth Streets. Although both locations are busy, the Washington Avenue location gets a lot busier with rentals since it’s more central to the touristy area of South Beach.
“When I met her, something happened inside of me. When we danced the first night, our attraction was …no se,inexplicable,” I recount, remembering the night I danced with Sol under the stars at Ball & Chain. I can’t find the right words to explain what she makes me feel.
“Pero, she’s nocubana. ¿De dónde es?” he asks, inquiring about Sol’s origins.
“Es Gringawith Latino parents.”
Sol wasn’t a good dancer and stepped on my feet a few times, but she let me lead and carry us through the beat of the music. Her hands were on fire and she smelled like cinnamon. When I kissed her my body ignited from within, like fireworks. Then she went home never to be heard from again.
“So, when you seeing her again?” Eduardo asks, interrupting my memories.
I shrug. “She told me to call or text her so hopefully soon,” I respond, searching for her paperwork so I can find and save her number to my phone.
I’m home and feel restless. I’ve put some groceries away, got my mail, watered my plants, and took a shower. Despite that, it feels like I still have unfinished business. Seeing Sol was unexpected yet the best thing that’s happened all week. Her light brown eyes shone, and the lipstick she was wearing accentuated her full lips. I wanted to kiss her but had to restrain myself. There’s something holding her back, keeping her from opening up to me. The night we met she didn’t talk much and was quick to leave. Today as we talked about scooters and helmets, I could see her eyes wanted to tell me more. Whatever she was thinking or feeling, she kept to herself. I’ll have to work on making her feel more comfortable around me. Get her to talk more.
Do I call her now or should I wait? Will she think I’m too pushy if I do? If I don’t, will she think I’m not into her? I haven’t dated in a while and don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. Is there even a right and wrong?
Fuck it, I’m calling her. If I don’t, I’m going to drive myself crazy. I grab my phone and pull up her name, hit send before I change my mind.
She answers on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Hola, Sol. Es Amaury,” I say, trying to keep my tone even to not sound too eager.
“Hi. I knew I’d hear from you tonight.”
“Y eso?”
“You’re not the type of guy to wait, when you want something, or in this case someone, you don’t leave anything to chance.” Her tone is playful and light, yet she’s spot on. She has me pegged and we’ve spent a total of three hours together. Am I that transparent?
“What I can say?Me gustas, since the first night I met you. You got away last time and I no letting it happen again.” Now that she opened the door to how I feel about her, I’m not letting the opportunity pass me by. She’s silent at my confession, her breath even but loud in my ear.
Sol finally breaks the silence. “So, what do you have in mind?”
“Hay un restaurante argentino enNorth Beach. Dinner?” I know her mom is from Argentina, which is why I suggest dinner at an Argentine place.
“I’d like that. But, if it’s okay with you, let’s meet up later in the week,” she says. Waiting isn’t what I hoped for but she said yes, so I won’t push my luck. I’m in for a long week waiting to see her again. “I’m still settling in, unpacking, and getting used to a new work schedule.”
“Está bien. Any dayen particular?” I ask, hoping she says Tuesday and not Friday.
“Let’s do Thursday. Not sure what work will be like at my new job and if it’s anything like the last place I worked, it’ll be hectic.”
Four days will feel like four weeks, but I haven’t been this excited about anything in a long time.
“Perfecto,” I say. “¿Qué haces ahora?” I ask, curious as to what she’s doing.
“I’m getting my stuff ready for work. Tomorrow is my first day at my job and I want to leave everything ready for the morning.”
“Where you will be working?”
“I’m an interpreter and translator. I’ll be working for a company named Miami Language Solutions. The office is in Brickell.”
“Wow.Quecool. ¿Para español?”
