“But then the moment I try to show him, he’s upset I’m not doing what I’m told. How am I supposed to win?”
She shrugged. “I think you need to decide what you want and go for it.”
“Easier said than done.”
As soon as we turned on the main street, I smiled. Everyone seemed ready for Halloween. The holiday had taken over—the entire street strung with orange and purple lights that draped between buildings and cobwebs that hung in each shop’s windows. The cheesy, scary pop-up figures lined the street, and the screams and laughter from passersby made me smile. The main street had been closed off to cars, and we wove our way through the games, food, and vendors they had filled it with.
Harper yelled, grabbing my hand to drag me over to our group of friends.
Elliot stood with them, eyeing me as I walked up.
“Hey,” I said to no one in particular.
“Where have you been?” Elliot asked, the cold tone making me sneer.
“Safe at home, no thanks to you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“I think it means you left your girl on the street with a robber to fend for herself. Care to talk about it more?” Harper said.
His mouth snapped shut. Whatever he had been about to say dying on his lips. I tried to focus on the rest of the group, everyone making plans for the night and the week, but my mind kept wandering.
I heard the bikes before I saw them. My eyes jumped to Elliot, who seemed to hear them, too. He smacked his friend’s chest, nodding to the road behind us. I wasn’t surprised at all when he took off, his friends following him in a line as he weaved through the crowd and disappeared.
The bikes revved again, and I froze.
There was no way it could be Rook. He wouldn’t really come here to find Elliot, would he? Could he even know Elliot would be here?
Then again, he knew Elliot would be with me at the art exhibit, so he seemed to be keeping tabs on him.
The rev of an engine and flash of lights caught my eye. The road had been closed, but it didn’t deter the six bikes coming down it. They split off, three on one side of the street and three on the other as they drove up onto the sidewalk, none of them seeming to care as people jumped out of the way for them.
It was hard to tell the difference between the bikes. Some had different colors, but they all looked similar. A black bike with green lights took off, moving to the middle of the street and popping a wheelie as it sped down the center.
People yelled, but the riders didn’t care. For one second, I wondered if it could be Rook as the bike went down the center, but I remembered his had pink-hued lights.
Then I saw it. The blacked out bike, the blacked out clothes, the little pink lights. I knew it was him before he even noticed me.Ifhe would even notice me. He probably couldn’t even remember what I looked like.
The rider stood up, his eyes scanning the crowd as one of the other bikes pulled up next to him, a guy with a girl on the back, her blonde hair cascading down her back from the helmet. She didn’t seem to be paying much attention to anything, instead tapping away at her phone.
I grabbed Harper, trying to pull her away from the bikes, but she seemed too busy with the guy she was talking to. The crowd had thinned a bit more, everyone staying out of the way in case they came down the street.
The blonde girl smacked the shoulder of the guy in front of her.
The maybe-Rook looked over, and for a second I thought he was looking at me. His helmet obscured his face like always, and I almost thought I imagined it until he waved to the others and pointed directly at me.
“Harper,” I hissed. I turned my back to the bikes, and heading towards the middle of the street again.
The rev of all the engines at once felt deafening, the entire group heading towards us now. The crowd around me dispersed, leaving me nearly alone in the middle of the road.
The bikes circled me. The tires screeching on pavement until I was blind to everything beyond them. One turned, speeding away before heading straight towards the group again.
My feet felt glued to the ground even as the bike barreled toward me. The engine roared louder, the rider hitting the brakes less than a foot away. The back of the bike lifted, the helmet stopping inches from my face. I held my breath, the scent of burning rubber and gasoline filling my nostrils.
“Rook,” I finally said.
The bike dropped back down, and he pulled off his helmet.
