Page 74 of Sol
Hiding what I was feeling about him from the students had been a challenge. Because I was damned if I glanced at him and damned if I didn’t. He fared no better, since I was sure at one point he got hard, because I knew the expression in his eyes—wide pupils and unblinking gorgeousness. At least it was cooler this week than last, and at least the storm between us hadbroken.
Rolling up my yoga mat, I asked him, “Wanna go for a run? Get the barksout?”
He grinned, confused. “Get the barksout?”
“Remember? Degan used to say that a long time ago. He needed to go exercise to get out hisenergy.”
Something in his eyes clicked. A memory. “I remember. Yeah. Let’s go get the barks out. Tie your shoes, and we’ll go stash yourmat.”
We hustled over to his room, which was closer than mine, dropped off my stuff, and then tookoff.
People bustled about on this tranquil day in Granada. Stylish men and women lounged at pretty tables, drinking coffee in outdoor cafes. Mothers pushed babies in strollers to go shopping.Ancianos, older people, sat on park benches under the leafy plane trees and chatted. All in all, a pleasant day. We jogged down to the huge park at the edge of town, Parque GarcíaLorca.
“Let’s do a few laps around the park, and then keep going,” I huffed, moving my legsfast.
As we passed the sign to the entrance of the park, Trent asked, “I’ve been running here most days, but I don’t know who this is named after. Who was Federico GarcíaLorca?”
“A poet. He was executed at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War, rather tragically. It could have been because he was gay, or it could have been political. It’s a mystery. But he was so young, and his poetry was so beautiful. Like, ‘To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring onourselves.’”
Trent rubbed a hand against his heart as he moved. “God, isn’t that thetruth?”
“Or, ‘To see you naked is to recall theEarth.’”
He grinned. “I lovethat.”
We challenged each other as we ran. He was fast and in shape, but so was I. I just loved to run, I loved the way I didn’t feel like I got enough air, and I needed to move faster andfaster.
Kind of like the way I ran from place to place. A modernnomad.
After circling the park laden with scented roses, we headed out along the perimeter of the tall, compactcity.
“I haven’t been out here yet,” hesaid.
“Let’s go run around the bullring. Have you seen oneyet?”
“Abullfight?”
“Yeah.”
“No. I haven’t even seen abullring.”
Our feet hitting the pavement, we made our way to the large, circular bullring, painted white. Two entrances stood on either side of the ticket booths. One read, “Sol,” and one read “Sombra.”
“Why does it say that?” he asked,pointing.
“Because you can buy tickets and sit in the sun or sit in the shade. Yourchoice.”
He stopped running so fast I almost mowed him down. “Really?”
“It’s an ancient way of selling tickets. The ones in the sun costless.”
Heaving with the exertion from running, he leaned over, inspecting the entrance. “Wow. I’d think they’d costmore.”
“Nope. It gets too hot in thesun.”
Bending his leg to stretch his hamstring, sweat pouring down his shirt, he said, with a far-off look in his eyes, “It’s so interesting. You can pick. You can live your life in the sun. Buy that ticket. Or you can buy a ticket to stay in the shade. But it’s yourdecision.”
“Right.”
