huh?”
“No, it's my car.”
He sucks his teeth. “Of fucking course is it,” he mutters
bitterly.
I tilt my head at his unnecessary vitriol. “What's that
supposed to mean?”
“I'm sorry if my bike isn't as fancy as your $70,000 car.”
Oh. That's what he's mad about. It's not like I was trying to
brag or anything. “It's not that big of a deal, it was just a
graduation gift,” I explain. An early one that dad gifted me
when I got accepted to Stanford. Plus, he thought it would help me
make friends during senior year. It didn’t.
He shakes his head, topping it off with a resentful laugh. “And
this is a top of the line bike. My daddy didn't buy it for me, sweet
cheeks.”
Seriously? Why is he making such a fuss about this? “Um,
congrats? It was just a suggestion, sheesh.”
“We already decided we're taking my bike.”
I know I should let it go and make this trip as painless as possible.
But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
“No, we didn't. You did. That thing isn't even safe!”
“I ride it every day and I'm still alive.”
I roll my eyes. “You're alive, for now.”
“I know what I'm doing. We'll be fine. Take that stick out of
your ass and try something new.”
“I do not have a stick in my ass. And I'm just saying, it's hot
and it's a very, very long trip. We'd have AC, a radio, comfortable
seats and more trunk space if we took an actual car.”
He jumps off of his bike, planting himself in front of me. “Nah,
you see, with this baby, we'll have the open road, wind in our face—“
“Bugs in our teeth,” I interject.
He snorts. “Yeah, that too. Besides, this is your first dare.”
Did I miss something? “Dare?”
“Lemme guess, you've never played Truth or Dare before.
Probably because no one ever asked you to.”
“Yes, I've played Truth or Dare before, but what does it have
to do with... anything?”
“When I said I'd make this fun, I meant it. So we're going to
play a little game as we go,” he says, grabbing a helmet and
handing it to me. “And Truth or Dare is it.”
I glance skeptically at the helmet and then back up at him. “Do
I get any say in this?”
He shakes his head. “Don't worry, I won't make you do anything
weird.”
His promise doesn't exactly instill confidence. I take the helmet
from him and stare down at it. There's a skull on the front of it
that looks a hell of a lot like the tattoo on his bicep. Oh God, I
have his tattoos memorized already.
“You're not going to make me get a tattoo are you?”
He chuckles as he secures my bag to the back of his bike. “Nothing
permanent, scout’s honor,” he replies. “And I
suggest you put your helmet on. You're gonna need it.”
He fastens his own helmet beneath his chiseled jaw. Why the hell does
he still look good even with that thing on? And why am I
looking at him like this to begin with? I reluctantly fumble to snap
mine in place, and catch a glimpse of myself in his mirror while—I
just look ridiculous in mine.
“Dare number one,” he says as he revs the engine, once
again. Like, seriously, how many times does he need to do that? “Take
a ride on my bike.”
“Really, that's it?”
“That's it for the first one.”
“A little silly to waste a whole dare on something I was going
to do anyways, don't you think?”
“You believe that if you want,” he says flashing me a
toothy smile. Okay, now that makes me nervous. “We only have
two days so hop on.”
I stare at it for a long minute. “You know people have died on
motorcycles.”
He rolls his eyes hard. “And they’ve died in cars,
planes, boats...people have even died walking, believe it or not.”
“Yeah, but the percentage of fatalities is much higher in
motorcycle related accidents.”
“Well thank you, Ms. Almanac. But that's part of the reason why
this is a dare .”
“Fine,” I say with a shrug, “If I die, it's on
you.”
“Just get on the damn bike, Leah,” he commands me.
I attempt to climb on
“No, it's my car.”
He sucks his teeth. “Of fucking course is it,” he mutters
bitterly.
I tilt my head at his unnecessary vitriol. “What's that
supposed to mean?”
“I'm sorry if my bike isn't as fancy as your $70,000 car.”
Oh. That's what he's mad about. It's not like I was trying to
brag or anything. “It's not that big of a deal, it was just a
graduation gift,” I explain. An early one that dad gifted me
when I got accepted to Stanford. Plus, he thought it would help me
make friends during senior year. It didn’t.
He shakes his head, topping it off with a resentful laugh. “And
this is a top of the line bike. My daddy didn't buy it for me, sweet
cheeks.”
Seriously? Why is he making such a fuss about this? “Um,
congrats? It was just a suggestion, sheesh.”
“We already decided we're taking my bike.”
I know I should let it go and make this trip as painless as possible.
But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
“No, we didn't. You did. That thing isn't even safe!”
“I ride it every day and I'm still alive.”
I roll my eyes. “You're alive, for now.”
“I know what I'm doing. We'll be fine. Take that stick out of
your ass and try something new.”
“I do not have a stick in my ass. And I'm just saying, it's hot
and it's a very, very long trip. We'd have AC, a radio, comfortable
seats and more trunk space if we took an actual car.”
He jumps off of his bike, planting himself in front of me. “Nah,
you see, with this baby, we'll have the open road, wind in our face—“
“Bugs in our teeth,” I interject.
He snorts. “Yeah, that too. Besides, this is your first dare.”
Did I miss something? “Dare?”
“Lemme guess, you've never played Truth or Dare before.
Probably because no one ever asked you to.”
“Yes, I've played Truth or Dare before, but what does it have
to do with... anything?”
“When I said I'd make this fun, I meant it. So we're going to
play a little game as we go,” he says, grabbing a helmet and
handing it to me. “And Truth or Dare is it.”
I glance skeptically at the helmet and then back up at him. “Do
I get any say in this?”
He shakes his head. “Don't worry, I won't make you do anything
weird.”
His promise doesn't exactly instill confidence. I take the helmet
from him and stare down at it. There's a skull on the front of it
that looks a hell of a lot like the tattoo on his bicep. Oh God, I
have his tattoos memorized already.
“You're not going to make me get a tattoo are you?”
He chuckles as he secures my bag to the back of his bike. “Nothing
permanent, scout’s honor,” he replies. “And I
suggest you put your helmet on. You're gonna need it.”
He fastens his own helmet beneath his chiseled jaw. Why the hell does
he still look good even with that thing on? And why am I
looking at him like this to begin with? I reluctantly fumble to snap
mine in place, and catch a glimpse of myself in his mirror while—I
just look ridiculous in mine.
“Dare number one,” he says as he revs the engine, once
again. Like, seriously, how many times does he need to do that? “Take
a ride on my bike.”
“Really, that's it?”
“That's it for the first one.”
“A little silly to waste a whole dare on something I was going
to do anyways, don't you think?”
“You believe that if you want,” he says flashing me a
toothy smile. Okay, now that makes me nervous. “We only have
two days so hop on.”
I stare at it for a long minute. “You know people have died on
motorcycles.”
He rolls his eyes hard. “And they’ve died in cars,
planes, boats...people have even died walking, believe it or not.”
“Yeah, but the percentage of fatalities is much higher in
motorcycle related accidents.”
“Well thank you, Ms. Almanac. But that's part of the reason why
this is a dare .”
“Fine,” I say with a shrug, “If I die, it's on
you.”
“Just get on the damn bike, Leah,” he commands me.
I attempt to climb on
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