Everyone in my family with the exception of Aunt Nini moved to North Carolina, but she always said New York made her feel like she was back home. Home, meaning the Dominican Republic. I always found it odd when she called it home since Aunt Nini moved to the United States when she was little. Despite our distance, we saw each other pretty often. Mom always said Aunt Nini was her best friend and that no amount of distance put between them could ever change that. When my aunt spotted me, her picture-perfect smile widened, and she shook her head as she walked over, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into her warmth.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she crooned against my hair.
“Me too. Thanks so much for letting me come.”
“Are you kidding?” She pulled back slightly, taking me in. “I can’t think of a better person to spend the summer with.”
I smiled and let her help me with my bags. I tried to pack as light as possible, opting to bring a large suitcase and a small carry-on—an improvement from the two large suitcases I wanted to bring. As we walked to the car, Aunt Nini told me all about her life, primarily her dating life, which was always exciting. As we drove toward her apartment building in Chelsea, I took my camera out and snapped pictures of everything—the buildings, the sidewalks, the people. New York had always felt like it was calling for me, and I had always said that this was where I wanted to be.
She parked at the parking lot down the street, and we walked over to the building, greeting the doorman as he opened the door for us. As we rode the elevator, my aunt told me about the area and the eateries I’d find around here if I wanted to explore without her.
“I’ll be honest, I’ll be pretty MIA during the week,” Aunt Nini said as we walked to her apartment.
“I know, don’t worry, I don’t require much attention.” I shot her a smile. “I’ll probably spend my days photographing anyway.”
“I have a few big cases I’m working on right now and I need to focus on those, but every second of free time I get, I’ll spend with you.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I smiled.
“You can always hang out with the Cruz kids. They’re up on the penthouse floor.” She nodded up as she unlocked the door and swung it open. “I haven’t spoken to Milly, but I’m sure the boys are home for the summer. I mean, when they’re not playing sports. You know they don’t stop practicing and training.” She rolled her eyes. I laughed.
It was another thing Aunt Nini and I had in common. We didn’t understand how people could be so obsessed with sports. My sister had been playing volleyball forever, and while I thought it was cool that she’d found something she was passionate about, I didn’t understand why she spent so much time on fitness. She was either always running or playing. Of course, she might have been using it as an excuse to hang out with her friends and get my parents off her back.
Spending time with the Cruz kids, as my aunt called them, sounded like fun. We’d known each other our entire lives, but I hadn’t seen them in a while. I made a note to knock on their door the next morning. If I was going to have this much free time here, I might as well spend it with native New Yorkers.
Chapter Fourteen
Present
Misty
“I feel like I’ve apologized a million times and I can spend my life apologizing a million more, but that won’t make a difference,” Mitch says across from me.
He ordered a stack of pancakes that stacks higher than my torso and he’s been enjoying every bite, while I eat an açai bowl that looked amazing until I saw the stack of pancakes.
“I already forgave you.” I stab my spoon into the bowl in front of me. “And I already told you I don’t want to talk about it again.”
“And I already told you that I do.”
“It’s not always about you, Mitchell.” I shoot him an annoyed glance. “Get over yourself. If you can’t let me do my job and write this article without bringing this up, then I’m just going to have to tell Valerie that I can no longer write it.”
“Seriously?” His eyes widen. “You’d give this up because you hate me that much?”
“I don’t hate you.” I groan, bringing my hands up to my face and rubbing my eyes. “I just do not want to discuss our very short-lived dating life. We dated for one summer, you broke up with me, end of story.”
“It was the best summer of my life,” he says, so low I almost don’t hear him. My heart does; it thrashes inside my chest as if awakened for the first time in years.
“Please don’t say things like that.” I look up and meet his gaze.
“It’s the truth, Mist. For years I’ve been lying, trying not to even breathe too hard around you because everything I do bothers you, but I can’t not speak the truth.” His lips form a small smile that’s almost shy, very unlike Mitchell. “I’ll try to keep my thoughts and feelings hidden away for the sake of your assignment though.”
“Thank you.” I swallow and look at my bowl again. “How’s baseball going?”
“Fine.”
“Oh. I have a question.” I look up again, this time putting aside all of my tumultuous feelings and focusing on my assignment. “How do you feel about collegiate athletes not getting paid?”
Mitch chuckles. “Like shit. How else would I feel?”
“True. Do you think that’s the reason so many athletes started selling and distributing drugs on the side?”
“Maybe.” He cuts the pancakes and puts a chunk in his mouth, chewing slowly. He looks uncomfortable answering, which really fuels my curiosity.
“Did you know any of the guys?” I ask, lowering my voice.
He shrugs, still chewing.
“Jagger definitely knew some of them. Most were football players.”
Another shrug.
“So you do know.”
“I’ll tell you a secret if you drop the questions about this.” He takes a sip of water and sets it down. I lean forward a little because I have no chill when I hear the word secret. “There’s a lot of talk right now about this thing called NIL. The NCAA is discussing it right now and if they come to an agreement, college athletes will finally be able to get paid real money.”
“What?” I frown. “Like the college is going to pay them? As if they were employees?” I put a hand up quickly. “Which, you are. I’m not going to argue that. I know they make billions of dollars and you guys don’t get paid which is the reason we’re in this situation in the first place.”
“Right, but no, the schools are going to pay us. It’s . . . ” He moves his stack of pancakes to the side and sighs as he leans back against his side of the booth. “I’m trying to figure out a way to explain it because the way my dad explained it to me sounded complicated, but basically, let’s say a company wanted to pay me for a sponsorship, I would get paid and walk around drinking, eating, or wearing whatever it was they paid me for.”
“Like Lebron and Jordan.”
“Exactly, but while still playing college ball. Lebron was able to do that because he went from high school straight to the NBA and didn’t have to deal with the four years of unpaid . . . internship, let’s call it.”