I lifted my arm and knocked the small rocks and dirt from the skin. The distinct sound of my mom’s high heel shoes clicking quickly across the parking lot had me groaning inwardly. If she lay witness to my accident, I might not ever be allowed to ride again.
“I’m Josh. Don’t know if you remember me. My father owns this restaurant,” Josh explained, pressing his thumb in the front tire, confirming it was flat.
“I remember you.” The blood picked up speed and dripped again, another drop followed. I didn’t know what to do so I placed my hand tightly over the scrapes, trying to stop the bleeding. I hiked a leg over the bushes to be on the same side as Josh and my bike.
Josh and I had spent quite a bit of time fishing, but the same thing happened with him that happened to Chae. He was older than me, doing what older kids do. Last time I remembered seeing him, he was a shortish, overweight, and stocky kid. He’d changed. Tall and broad with a face that looked made to smile as he did right now.
“You’ve grown.”
“That’s everybody’s reaction. I heard you were back in town. For good this time,” Josh said and started toward the front door of the pizzeria, my bike in hand. “We have a first-aid kit inside.”
“Honey, what happened?” my mother asked, her arms crossing over her chest, her signature sign of worry. I could tell she wanted to reach out to me and take care of my injuries, but I’d broken her of that habit years ago. The embarrassment of the fall didn’t need my mom’s overprotective brand of care mixed in. That needed to be done in private where I’d gladly let her cuddle me.
“The curb came out of nowhere and tripped him up,” Josh said good-naturedly. “Probably that shiny red Ferrari’s fault. That thing was badass.” My mom gave Josh a hard stare at the use of profanity. Josh grinned bigger. He looked like a big ole teddy bear. “Sorry, Mrs. Brooks.”
“Mom, remember Josh Bigly? That’s him.”
Maybe the only thing that could have taken her worry off my fall was her astonishment when she took a closer look at Josh. Her expressions ranged from uncertainty to shock in a matter of a few seconds.
Josh laughed again and gripped my handlebars tighter, starting toward the restaurant. “Come inside. We’ll get you cleaned up.”
When I followed, my mom did too. Her palm came to the center of my back, lightly caressing. I loved that move. She was such a good mom.
“Are you all right?” she asked quietly. “Did you get hurt?”
“Probably only scratches and a bruised ego,” Josh teased from over his shoulder. “The bike seems good. The tire’s shot. Not sure I’ve seen such a perfectly executed tuck and roll before, except maybe in the movies.”
My mom kept the worry on her face as she gave me a critical up and down assessment. Since everything had gone wrong with my family, she poured herself into mothering me. And I let it happen, sometimes.
“I’m fine. I promise. Just hungry.”
Speaking of food had her tense features softening.
“You’re always hungry,” she said and gave me a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“My parents can barely keep me fed and they own a restaurant,” Josh said, leaving my bike in the small foyer between the parking lot and the dining room. “I’ll get the first-aid kit and meet you in the restroom. I’ll also tell my dad to go heavy on the buffet to feed us both in a timely manner.”
Great. I was into both ideas and started for the arrow sign pointing me to the bathroom.
“I’ll get a table,” my mom said. “Call me if you need me.”
We were on the same page. If my injuries took a bad turn, she was the first person to know.
My birthday dinner had gone from two people to three with Josh choosing to stick with me and Mom, instead of doing his own thing. I was having a pretty decent time, especially since I was on a winning streak inNinja Assault, jumping up the leaderboard to third place.
“The town hall crowd’s gonna release soon. They always come here after a meetin’. It’s never good anymore,” Josh said quietly at the vintage pinball machine beside me.
“Yeah,” I said, distracted. “Sounds like it’s goin’ bad for them. All they have left is the picket—”
“No, dude,” Josh, making it hard to hear over all the death and destruction I was executing. “You’re not pickin’ up what I’m layin’ down.”
Those words bounced around my head as my fingers moved deftly over the game’s buttons.
Josh’s big hand clamped down hard on my shoulder, causing my hand to slip. My fiery death exploded on the screen. I reared back, looking at my score as the end game graphic flashed my fate. What the hell? Josh broke a top guy code rule. Don’t messwith each other while playing a video game. My disappointment barely stayed behind my lips as my stare slid to Josh.
“What?” I bit out, not able to keep all my frustration hidden. If Scott had done something like that to me, I might’ve actually tackled him to the ground. He’d never hear the end of it.
“There’s a party at the acres. You in?”
