Like Gravity(20)

I bit my lip to hold back a laugh and nimbly plucked the keys from his hand. Slipping on the too-large helmet, I straddled the bike, pulled out the choke, and started the ignition. I easily shifted into neutral before turning to look at Finn, who was staring at me open-mouthed.

The look of absolute shock on his face was priceless; I finally lost control and a stream of giggles escaped my lips. Sliding the helmet visor down, I shifted into gear and sped out of the driveway, leaving him in the dust.

Finn’s Ducati handled a bit differently than the vintage ones my father kept in our garage at home, but I soon adjusted to its controls. It had been several years since I’d ridden. Many nights during my high school years, when I’d been desperate to escape my father and his large, soulless house, I’d snuck into the car hanger and taken one of his many toys for a drive. Sometimes, I’d take the Lamborghini, the Bentley, or the vintage Aston Martin, but on the nights I’d craved rushing wind and dangerous speeds, I’d always preferred the motorcycles.

I did a lap around my block before pulling back into the driveway. Finn hadn’t moved. His face was still frozen in a mask of surprise as I whipped off the helmet and handed it back to him, laughing.

“You...I...What…just happened?” He stammered, gazing down at me with a mix of admiration and astonishment. “Am I dreaming? ‘Cause you just fulfilled one of the all-time top male fantasies. Except typically by this point in my dream, you’d be naked.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I laughed.

“You just keep surprising me,” Finn said, shaking his head. “You’re so different from what I expected.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” What had he expected?

“Never mind. Now, can I hop on, or are you planning to drive and completely emasculate me on my own motorcycle?”

I laughed and slid backwards, making room for him to take over the controls. Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around his torso as we raced into the autumn night. The sun slipped below the horizon and the fallen maple leaves, stirred into a fluttering vortex by our tires, settled onto shadowed streets.





Chapter Five


Too Perceptive




The anniversary of my mother’s murder loomed before me. It was unavoidable, creeping up on me each year and casting my already gloomy world even deeper into shadows. Like standing at the base of an impossibly tall skyscraper, I could crane my neck in any direction trying to avoid it, but in the end the imposing steel-glass tower would dominate even the sun’s presence and obstruct my view of the sky completely.

My nightmares were always worse during the weeks leading up. Their intensity left me shaken and weak, effortlessly transporting me back fourteen years to become the blood-soaked six year old in a crumpled SUV. Some nights I dreamed about the hospital, instead: doctors and nurses conferring in hushed tones, the whirring of machines, too many wires and IVs hooked into my pale, broken body to count. It got harder to slow my racing heart and release the viselike pressure in my lungs – more difficult to shove the memories back into the dark recesses of my memory.

Functioning on even less sleep than usual, I doubled both my caffeine intake and my sassiness. Lexi tried to pry information from me about my unexpected late-night motorcycle ride with Finn, as well as give me a detailed account of her latest Tyler sexcapades, but I lacked any patience to indulge her. I could barely tolerate some of her stories in my most rested state, let alone after a sleepless night. The dark circles lining my eyes were a perpetual testament to my lack of sleep, but Lexi didn’t seem to notice or heed their warning to give me space.

Truthfully, I didn’t want to talk to Lexi about Finn because I knew I’d never hear the end of it. She’d overanalyze and make it a much bigger deal than it was. And though I might admit to myself that I’d been taken aback by the night I’d spent with him, I would never share that fact with Lexi.

Finn had surprised me. He drove off campus for almost an hour without saying much of anything or giving me any indication as to where we were going. My ever-cynical mind had just begun to wonder if this drive into the darkening woodlands was a ploy to kill me and stash my body where it would never be found, when Finn pulled off the winding road and out onto a highway lookout point. He hopped off his bike and walked to the thin, rusted guardrail, where he could look down at the lazily flowing river just discernible in the growing dusk. I dismounted and followed him warily.

“Why are we here, Finn?” I asked, curious and slightly confused about our location. This was the last place I’d expected a leather-clad, tattooed bad boy to spend his nights. There were no other cars on the road, no streetlights, and no signs of civilization; this place had been neglected for years, if the corroded rail and cracked pavement were any indication.

“Shh,” Finn whispered without looking back at me. “Do you hear that?”

I couldn't hear much of anything except for the buzzing of a nearby mosquito, eager to make a meal of me, and the faint trickling of water as it flowed over the mossy stones in the riverbank.

“What am I supposed to be hearing?” I asked skeptically.

“Nothing,” he said, turning to glance at me as I joined him at the railing. “Just the quiet. I come here to think sometimes. Clear my head.”

I looked away from him, trying to process that bit of incongruous information. I didn’t really want to know that there were other sides to the beautiful man standing next to me. I wanted him safely in the box labeled Narcissistic Assholes I kept in storage in my mind. He certainly wouldn’t lack for company in that particular box.