Chapter 13

Jesse

Hell yeah, training in Milan was the bomb, just like I knew it would be. And getting back into the action, riding again - I mean really riding, not just riding my Uncle Kenny's street bike – was what I lived for. This was the real deal and I was psyched. It had been exactly two weeks since Niki and I’d arrived in Milan. I was in a great mood when Coach called me into his office. I had just finished a three hour training session on the track and I was hoping Coach was calling me in to say I could take the rest of the day off.

I dropped my helmet and gloves outside Coach's trailer and gave my boots a kick to knock off some of the dirt before I entered. Pulling the latch on the camper door, I yelled inside as I opened it, “Hey, Coach. Did you want to see me?”

Coach was sitting at the kitchen table in front of a laptop, peering at the screen over some dark rimmed reading glasses. I stood hesitantly, afraid to ruin his white leather couch with my dusty riding clothes. He swiped the glasses from his nose and motioned with them for me to sit down.

“Have a seat. It's okay. Don't worry about the couch in here; it's an RV, for Christ’s sake.”

I nodded and took a seat, pitched forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

Abandoning his computer screen, Coach looked at me over the top of it as he spoke. “Jesse, I want to let you know I'm damn pleased with how you looked out there on the track today. From the looks of things, I'd say you're back one hundred percent. You get good times on the laps, keep it tight in the turns... everything is spot on. I'm happy as a pig in shit, but...”

I knew it, here comes the downer.

“But team morale sucks. It doesn't take a genius to see the cold stares between you, Ice and Santini. At first, I thought it was just you and Ice who had a bone to pick. Now Santini? Come on, you guys are killing me, here.”

Secretly, I didn’t give a damn about those two, but I understood where Coach was going. I mean, his ass was on the line if he couldn't produce a winning team. The season would be starting in the spring and if we didn't get our shit in one bag by then, there would be no trophies to hold up in the air after the finish line. And there would be no more dream job for me.

I sniffed and rubbed the back of my hand across my nose. How could I say this without pissing him off? “Coach, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but it's hard to pull together as a team when we're training twelve hours a day, seven days a week. Don't get me wrong – it rocks – but we all get short tempers when we're tired, man.”

He chewed on the end of his reading glasses for a moment in thought and then said, “Tell you what, Jesse. We're about half way into our month-long training program and I think we could take a break. So how about tomorrow, there will be no training.”

I just nodded, trying not to appear too excited.

“Our sponsor for the energy drink company is having a promotional event at a new club in Milan. You guys on the team should go. It would be good for all of you, not only for team morale but also for our sponsor, if we showed our faces there tomorrow night.”

I slapped my hands on my thighs. “That sounds like a fantastic idea. Just what we all need.” I stood up, grinning to myself, already scheming how I was going to sneak a drink... or two... or more. I was stoked and I couldn't wait to call Niki and tell her the plan.

I gave Coach a high five and ducked out of the RV, eager to get to my cell phone. I skipped up the two steps to the inside of my trailer and reached for my cell phone on the counter. I called Niki before even taking off my riding gear.

Damn. Voicemail again.

She had been busy every day, and even a couple of evenings, working for that photographer dude, but she he couldn’t possibly expect her to work on a Saturday night. I left her a message saying she had better be off work tomorrow night because we were going to party the night away. As I ended the message, I heard a knock at my trailer door and the voice of Jamie, my mechanic, yelled my name through its flimsy construction.

“Dude, you can open the door before you talk, asshole.” I laughed as I swung open the door. The look on his face told me it was time for some tuning adjustments on the bike.

“Did you miss me?” Jamie quipped.

“Like my balls miss jock itch.”

“You got ball?”

I shoved my phone in the pocket of my riding pants with a grin and said, “Come on, Dorothy, let's go.” I pulled the rattling aluminum door shut behind us, my chances of getting the afternoon off had just been shot to hell.