“Who are you?”
Taking a final puff of his cigarette, he pulls a card from his back pocket.
Bruno Mercado.
Athletic Scout.
I read his information over and over until the words blurred like the dream I believe this to be. “Scout?” I mumble. “You’ve… been scouting me?”
Crushing the burning ember beneath his clean leather shoe, Bruno responds, “Absolutely. I heard there was a great talent out in Henson, and I thought, there’s no way, and yet, here you are, in the middle of fucking nowhere.” He pauses for a moment, eyes raking over me. “How lucky it is that I found you, right? I mean, who would look for you here?”
Overwhelmed, I can’t even process his statement before he asks, “So, are you interested? Or did you waste my time?”
“Yes!” My answer is immediate. “Yes! Yes. I’m interested.”
“Excellent!” Bruno shouts, face lighting up with joy. “As great as it would have been to get some extra footage of you for my boss, I think we have enough. Why don’t you meet me here tomorrow night? I’ll have him with me, and you can meet him. What do you say?”
“Yes.Absolutely. I’ll be here. No question.”
Smiles. “Wonderful.” Bruno turns to leave, only to stop before taking a step. “What was that flyer you were shoving toward people?”
Shit.Clara.
“My friend, um—” I stop, pulling out her poster from my pocket. “She’s missing. I was hoping someone had seen her.”
“And have they?” Bruno asks, gently plucking the paper from my fingers.
“No.”
He’s silent as his eyes roam over her face, expressionless. “Hmm, shame,” he finally utters, handing the paper back. “She was beautiful.”
Kassidy and I searched all night. If we found anyone wandering the roads, we stopped and begged them to look at Clara’s face. No one wanted to, and if they did, no one recognized her. This town is fucking small. Not many people in the middle of fucking nowhere. How didno oneknow her? How did no oneseeher?
These questions kept us up all night. It was only when the sun rose that Kassidy called it quits. “Let’s go home,” she whispered, exhausted and swollen with tears. She leaned on me for support as we made our way back to her car and fell asleep almost immediately once her head hit the seat.
I used the silence of the drive to think not only of Clara but also of my interaction with Bruno. Pulling his card out of my pants, I go over his information again, setting it on the wheel so I can stare without crashing.
“Why don’t you meet me here tomorrow night?”
A laugh bubbles past my lips, but I do everything in my power to keep it contained for Kassidy’s sake. The last thing she needs to hear from me is joy. But fuck… I can’t fucking believe it!
I almost punch the roof of the car, scream into the wind, and drive off into the sunrise, shouting that I fucking did it!
Fuck you, Dad! I fucking did it!
Screw you, Uncle Dalton! I’m gonna fucking make it!
Mom… Mom, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna make you proud.
Those thoughts keep me going until night falls. Even in my sleep, I can only think of proving everybody wrong—of showing the world that I’m the best fucking fighter to come out of nothing. They’ll see. They’ll all fucking see when I’m on the big screen.
Kassidy, still lying on the bed with her blankets tucked up to her ears, asks, “Where are you going?”
Sitting on the floor, pressed against the corner of her bed, I lace up my shoes. “I just have an errand to run, but I’ll be back. We can go back out there and look some more when I return. Yeah?”
“Okay,” she agrees, tears still falling. I don’t think they’ve stopped. At least the red scarring indicates they haven’t. “Cade.”
“Yeah?” I halt outside her bedroom doorframe, turning back with one hand on the wall.
