I miss the feeling of Shane’s jacket—his cut, I remember—around me. It’s funny how something as simple as a leather jacket can become the only thing keeping you safe, keeping you alive.
It’s been three days since I saw him that night. The ladies at the clubhouse were nice to me. They helped me clean up andgave me new clothes. They gave me something for the cramps and taught me everything I needed to know about periods. And…some more.
Learning about the reproductive system in class is something. Listening to those ladies talk about how sex works is… Heat flushes my cheeks. My whole body tingles with embarrassment.
Shane stopped them before they got to the really grown-up stuff. I don’t know if I should thank him or be mad at him. I mean, kids use the internet to know about sex, but I don’t have a computer. I only use the school’s, and it blocks most of those websites. Those women were probably the only chance to get any knowledge in that department.
Who am I kidding? I can never be mad at him.
Shane even asked the owner of the club—what did he call him again? Yes, Prez something—to give me one of their cuts, one with no colors. I don’t understand what the deal is with the colors. They’re all black anyway. But Prez guy said no. Apparently, women aren’t allowed to wear cuts unless they’re “property of” cuts, and it’s not appropriate for me to wear one of those.
I had to give Shane his cut back. I was scared if I took it off, I’d be vulnerable and exposed again, but somehow, when I returned home the day after, my mother didn’t say a word to me or lay a hand on me, as if I was still wearing Shane’s magical cloak of protection.
“Oh my God, is that her?” a girl whispers. “What’s her name again? Regina…”
I glance up to find Brittany Johanson looking at me from a distance, her pink lip gloss catching the afternoon sun. Two of her friends hover behind her like vultures.
“Reagan. Her name is Reagan.”
Brittany smiles as she comes my way with her friends. I hug my knees tighter and keep my head down. If I don’t look at them,maybe they won’t look at me. They won’t see the bruises. They won’t cause any more.
She stands over me. “Hey, Reagan.”
My stomach drops. I don’t say anything. I’ve learned not to.
Brittany drops into a crouch, her skirt riding up her thighs. She’s two grades ahead of me and so pretty it hurts to look at her. Perfect blonde hair, perfect teeth, perfect boobs, perfect everything. “What are you reading?”
She’s never said a word to me my whole life, not in my face. Behind it, yes, with the giggles and the sneers. Why the sudden interest in my hobbies? I close my journal slowly. “Just...writing.”
“That’s so cool. I could never keep a journal.” She tilts her head, her smile too bright, too fake. “So, um, I heard something super interesting.”
Here it comes.
“Someone saidtheShane Fletcher was back in the neighborhood.” Her eyes sparkle with curiosity. “They saw you with him the other night, riding his cool bike.”
Of course word got around. I just nod.
“So, like…” Brittany leans in closer, her perfume making my eyes water. “Is he, like, as dangerous as everyone says? I heard he got into a fight at The Pit and broke some guy’s jaw.”
I shrug and reopen my journal. Maybe if I pretend to write, she’ll go away.
She doesn’t.
“That is so cool.” Madison, one of her friends, inches closer, and suddenly all three of them are surrounding me like I’m an exotic animal at the zoo.
“Does he have a girlfriend?" Brittany asks, and there it is. The real reason they’re talking to me.
“I don’t know.” I don’t know anything about Shane’s life in the MC. Whom he hits or dates. I don’t want to know.
“C’mon, you must knowsomething.” She leans in even closer. “Like, does he talk about girls? Is he seeing anyone?”
The words in my journal blur together. Of course that’s why she’s suddenly being nice to me. Because she thinks I can tell her something useful about Shane. I’m not a person. I’m just a bridge to someone who matters.
“I don’t know,” I repeat, quieter this time.
Brittany’s smile falters. “Well, if you talk to him, can you tell him Brittany Johanson said hi? He’ll remember me.”
I doubt that, but I nod anyway. “Sure.”
