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I put my feet on the ground, turn off the bike, and slip off my helmet. Engines rumble behind me, closing in, and Igaze ahead, knowing that the deserted, flat road in front of me—like a dark tunnel under the cover of trees—becomes one of the hardest to navigate once you go inside.
Rumor has it, anyway. I’ve never been.
Bikes stop behind me, one by one all going silent, and I look over my shoulder, seeing Constin, Calvin, and all the rest. Farrow charges straight for me.
“You thought I was running away?” I ask, a smile pulling at my mouth. “What were you going to do? Stop me?”
“Yes.”
I face forward again. “I said I wanted to ride.”
“You didn’t say where.” He stops at my side, planting his hands on my seat and handlebar. He gets in my face. “No one comes out here alone. You do it again—”
“You’ll take my keys?”
I turn and face him, my nose nearly touching his.
His eyes sparkle as his blond hair blows on the breeze. “I’ll take your clothes.”
My mouth closes, my teeth locking together of their own accord. I don’t falter otherwise, though, even though I know he’s not lying.
“Someone needs to be here to hide your body when you crash.”
He sounds like my father.
Just then, another bike enters the party, the helmeted driver rocking left and then right on his dirt bike, smooth as ice as he maneuvers through the other riders and halts just behind me.
Farrow rises up straight, eyeing the newcomer.
“I’m not alone,” I finally reply to him. “Noah Van der Berg watches me.”
Noah removes his helmet, his gear—pants, jersey, boots, armor—already dirty from a day of training with myfather. But he smiles, not looking the least bit exhausted as the sweat makes hair stand in all directions and his sun-kissed skin shine.
I called him from the house and asked him to come because Farrow is right. Even I’m not reckless enough to be out here alone. At least not my first time.
Climbing off his bike, he does a survey of mine as he walks over. He grabs my helmet. “This isn’t yours…”
But I don’t have to answer. He knows the only brand my father uses, and this isn’t it.
He shoves it back at Farrow, handing me his own instead.
I pull the chin strap out as Noah takes an earpiece and fits it into my ear. It’s not something we normally use, but we’re out here without my father’s permission, and he doesn’t want to lose contact with me if he loses sight of me.
Farrow glares at Noah. “We got her.”
“So do I.”
Noah busies himself with connecting the Bluetooth and his own earbud.
Farrow’s lowers his voice. “You need to leave.”
But Noah just taunts back, “You know it’ll be more fun if I stay.”
He doesn’t look at Farrow, and I can feel the heat rolling off the latter.
“I need someone here I trust,” I explain to Farrow.
“Did you walk it first?” Noah asks in a low voice.
