“No worries, my next student is late anyway.”
An older model minivan turned into the school parking lot and pulled to the curb. Posie’s little brothers and sisters were wreaking havoc in the backseats and her Mom’s tired face smiled through the window.
Posie was the oldest of five children, and would be the first to go to college. And at the rate she was going, she’d be the youngest student at West River ever to graduate. She’d skipped ahead two years, and was a gawky and slight fourteen-year-old junior. She didn’t really need the tutoring, but Posie had spent every Tuesday afternoon with me since the beginning of the year. It couldn’t have been easy for her to make friends, and as she sailed through her lessons each week, I suspected she needed the companionship more than the mentoring.
Posie’s little brother made blowfish lips against the glass and I smiled, resisting the urge to make a funny face back. Must be nice, coming home to a house full of giggles.
Posie climbed into the passenger seat, reaching over to wrap her arms around her mother’s neck. She waved with a sad smile, and watched me disappear in her rear-view mirror, as if maybe it was really me who needed the companionship after all.
The minivan rolled out of the lot, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
Obviously Reece wasn’t going to show up, and despite needing the tutoring hours, I was relieved. I secured my backpack tighter over my shoulders, zipped my hoodie against the humid gusts, and began the long (and soon to be wet) walk home.
A motorcycle growled to life in the parking lot. It rounded the corner, grumbling louder, and my stomach knotted as it neared the curb. Reece hadn’t been a no-show. He’d just been late.
He wasn’t wearing a helmet and his eyes were obscured behind aviator sunglasses even though the sun wasn’t out. I waited for him to shut off the engine.
He didn’t.
Instead he revved the throttle, just enough to make a point, and idled at the curb.
I turned on my heel and headed for the doors. If he wanted to study, he could park his death machine and come inside. I pulled the handle but it didn’t budge, already locked from the inside.
I turned back with a look that could kill and a fat raindrop plunked down on my cheek.
Reece shook with laughter I couldn’t hear, and he dangled a helmet from his fingers, crooking one in a “come here” gesture that made my knees slightly numb.
Thunder crackled a few miles away, the sky a deepening purple.
“I’m not getting on that thing with you.”
He glanced up at the sky, shrugged a shoulder, and kicked the bike into gear.
“Suit yourself,” he said, fingers loosening on the clutch. A fork flashed low across the sky and the wind kicked dirt devils across the pavement. In a few minutes, I’d be a wet human lightning rod tromping down Route 1.
“Oh for god’s sake.” I snatched the helmet, wrestled it onto my head, and fumbled with the chin clasp, muttering profanities as fat drops splattered the pavement.
Reece reached out, grabbed me by the front of my shirt, and dragged me closer. The heat of the pipes bloomed against my ankles, creeping up to settle in my cheeks. He fastened the clip with practiced hands, and his finger accidentally brushed my chin.
“Have you ever been on a bike before?” He spoke loudly over the engine.
I shook my head.
“It’s easy. Just relax. Hold on to my waist. Lean when I lean.” Reece waited for me to ease onto the seat behind him. My fingers fumbled for a handhold, but there were no handles. He reached back and grabbed my arm through my sleeve, drawing my hand toward his waist where the hem of his T-shirt met his jeans. My wrist grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and I think I forgot how to breathe. His emotions were suffocating and heavy, regrets mingled with guilt so deep, I was sure I’d never get the taste off my tongue. “Try not to fall off.”
He revved the engine and I held tight with both hands as the bike lurched forward.
I squealed, grasping for finger holds and finding them in the belt loops of his jeans. As we neared the first turn out of the parking lot, I dropped my face between his shoulders and squeezed my eyes shut. Icy drops pelted the back of my neck. We zoomed down streets, the bike leaning into the curves, wind whipping over me. The faster we went, the more Reece’s bitterness faded. I pressed into his back until all I could smell was the leather tang of his jacket, and all I could taste was the sweet thrill of flying away.
When we finally stopped, I smelled French fries. My legs wobbled and my ears thrummed, but I was alive in the parking lot of a diner.
Reece stepped over the bike, unhooked my helmet, lifted it off my head, then laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I smoothed back the static fly-aways.
“Nothing. You did great. It’s just a little helmet-hair.” His own hair fell around his face in effortless, orderly chaos.
“I thought we were going to study.”
“We are.”
Reece freed his backpack from the bungee cord behind the seat and I followed him into the restaurant. A waitress led us to a quiet, high-backed booth in the back.
I waited until he was engrossed in his menu before I set mine aside.
“What’s the matter? You’re not hungry?”
“No.” My stomach growled and I wrapped my arms around it to stifle the sound.
“Order whatever you want.” He pushed the menu back at me with a smirk. “Consider it payback for scaring the crap out of you.”
“I wasn’t scared,” I lied.
The waitress returned with two sweating water glasses, and took our orders. As she cleared the menus, Reece took out his chemistry book and set it on the table between us.
I raised a brow. “You remembered your book?”
“Maybe I’m not as stupid as I look.” The crease between his eyes was real and made me feel small. I pulled the book closer.
“Sorry, I’m just surprised.”
“Why?”
“No reason.” I bit my lip. This conversation was treading on dangerous water. Lieutenant Nicholson was already suspicious of me. If Reece figured out that I knew he was a narc—using me to get close enough to feed information to Nicholson—it wouldn’t look good. But my curiosity was getting the better of me. “I don’t know many juniors that haven’t taken basic chemistry.”
He turned his glass in lazy circles, slowly enough that I could study the tattoo on his arm. The leaves of some bristly plant climbed up his skin. “I already told you, I spent some time in the system. Missed a few classes.”
The waitress arrived, balancing two large plates and a basket of fries. Reece slammed the book shut as she set the food on the table between us, his interest in studying overshadowed by a mountain of patties with melted cheese. I supposed in this way he was like every other normal high school guy. My stomach growled again and I scarfed down a handful of fries, scalding my tongue and making my eyes water. I’d had trouble eating since Friday night, and that hollow feeling had finally caught up with me.