The roar of motorcycle engines
in the late afternoon made me look up. The growling rumble was loud enough to hurt my ears as three bikes powered up toward the house. Kimberly flashed me a big grin, practically flinging her book down on the sand in order to run to the front of the boys' house to greet them. I marked my place and grabbed my swimsuit cover. Then, I followed her at a more sedate pace. Jenny was already hot on Kimberly's heels.
In the large driveway of the big beach house, the three men revved their engines and grinned at us girls coming to greet them. Jenny hopped on the back of Matt's bike and squealed with delight as he raced around the open street.
Tony and Dean started doing dangerous-looking patterns with their bikes, obviously showing off their skills. The two of them made tight figure-eights around each other, eluding one another and certain death by mere inches. I wanted to cover my eyes, sure they were both going to crash and die. Then, they powered into a high-speed circle. They chased one another in such a tight spin that it looked as though their bikes were moving along the ground on their wheel rims. My breath caught in my throat, fear threatening to choke me.
I wanted them to stop. I hated motorcycles. Something about them scared me. Maybe it was the noise, maybe it was that I liked some steel between me and a certain death, maybe it was the accident that put my cousin James in the hospital for three weeks. In any case, to me, they were just glorified death traps.
Dean laughed as Tony pulled out of the circle-chase and over to where Kimberly stood, her hands on her face in total amazement at their daredevil antics. The manly testosterone effects of the bikes were certainly working on her and Jenny.
"Wanna ride?" Tony asked Kimberly, her shy smile threatening to beam off her face. She nodded and he pulled her onto the back of his bike, revving the engine. He handed her his helmet, and she kissed his cheek before putting it on.
"Hey, Hot Stuff," Dean said, giving me a wicked grin as he took off his helmet. "Hop on."
I hesitated for a moment. I didn't want this.
Dean raised his eyebrows waiting for me to answer. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, ready for me to join them. It's just a motorcycle. They aren't going to do anything too dangerous. He isn't James, I told myself. Besides, I trusted Dean.
The two other bikes took off down the drive, and Dean kept his hand outstretched. "Come on, it'll be fun!" he said.
"Promise me you'll stop if I ask you to," I said.
He looked at me like I was being a worry wart, then brought his hand up to his opposite shoulder. "Tap my shoulder three times and I'll stop immediately," he said, tapping his shoulder three times.
I bit my lip and nodded. I accepted the helmet from his hand and got on the back of the motorcycle. The bike shook like an angry volcano beneath me, and I clung to Dean for dear life. He was my rock, his abs hard and tight under my arms as I pressed into him. I tucked my feet up and held my cheek into his back, squeezing my eyes shut as he cranked the engine.
With a terrifying surge, the bike jumped forward, the engine roaring in my ears. My entire body was vibrating, and I wished my fear would turn into excitement. I wanted to like this. I wanted to impress Dean with my willingness to do exciting things. I wanted to be like Jenny; I could hear her laughing and begging Matt to go faster. I opened one eye to see the two of them nearly parallel to the ground in a deep turn as they were about to turn onto the road. The image made my stomach flip, and I quickly buried my face into Dean's back. Please, please don't do that to me, Dean, I begged in my head.
Dean turned, his body weight shifting to guide the bike. I clutched desperately at his shoulders, praying that I wouldn't hit the ground. I clung to his back like I was drowning in fear. James had spun out on a turn. This was not fun. With every turn, the ground seemed to rise up to meet me, promising a painful fall. All I could see was my cousin's body in the hospital bed with the white bandages and tubes going into his arms. The scars up and down his body from where the road slowed him down.
"I want off, please," I whispered. I was surprised I made any noise at all. Every fiber of my being wanted off that bike. Dean must not have heard me, the whistling wind stealing my words before they reached his ears. Instead of slowing down and letting me off, the bike increased in speed. I opened one eye in time to see Matt and Jenny rush past. I wanted to scream. The three boys were horsing around, weaving in and out between one another on the empty street like it was a game. I felt the breeze as Tony and Kimberly whizzed by, their engine screaming in my ears. I never wanted something to end so badly.
"Let me off!" I finally screamed, beating at Dean's back. I knew it wasn't quite the code that he had given me, but he took the hint quickly enough. He pulled the bike to the side of the road, stopping as quickly as he could while still being gentle. He turned around, his cocky grin fading as he saw the terror on my face. I scrambled off like the bike was molten hot. The helmet was suffocating me, so I ripped it off and let it drop from my fingers, backing onto the crab grass of the front lawn, my palms sweaty. I wiped them on the thin blue fabric of my swimsuit coverup. I couldn't decide if I was burning hot or terribly cold. My knees wobbled, and I only stayed standing by sheer will power.
"You okay?" Dean's brows knitted together, confusion and concern etched on his face.
"I don't like motorcycles," I said. I concentrated on breathing in and out. In and out.
He hesitated for a moment. "Okay, then we'll go do something on our own," Dean said. He looked back where we had come from. "I have to drop the bike back off at our house. If you get back on, I'll go really slow."
"No." The idea of getting back on made me want to throw up. James's voice echoed through my head, the moans of pain any time he moved calling out from my memory.
He sighed, then held his hand out. "I'll take the helmet, then. Wait here and I'll be right back." I leaned forward and picked up the helmet. Dean took it from me and winked before putting it back on. "Don't get on the bike with those other guys. They're crazy."
That finally made me smile. Dean's engine growled to life and he took off. I watched him go, my hands still shaking a little bit. Still, I was happy that he listened to me. Within a few minutes, Dean was jogging back up the road to where I was at.
"I'm sorry," I said immediately. "I know you wanted to ride your motorcycle."
He just shrugged. "I did that already today." He took my hand in his, pulling me gently to start walking with him. We traveled quietly for a moment, away from the house and the motorcycle.
"I'm sorry I freaked out on you like that," I said quietly. Dean just nodded as the tension between us broke. He didn't say anything. "My cousin and I were really close. He was in a really bad motorcycle accident last year."
Dean gave a quiet "mmm-hmm" and squeezed my hand.
"He was in the hospital for three weeks. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive, but he was never quite the same after that. I've never liked motorcycles since."
"I'm sorry I pushed you, then," he said softly. "You doing better now?"