“You’resexist.” Fox revs back, helmet on.
“You got her number?” Blue. Sounding skeptical.
“Yeah,” I cut in for Pan. “Seventeen.”
Blue barks out a laugh. Fox chuckles, too, and Kit just shakes his head.
Pan swings a leg over his bike, revs it to life, and skids past mejustclose enough to spit a little gravel on my leg.
“Fuck you very much,Tink.” But he’s laughing.
“Thanks for keeping you out of prison, more like.” Blue. “Don’t be a dipshit.”
“Can’t help it.”
“What happened to don’t ask, don’t tell?” Fox wonders.
“That’s not what that means.” Kit sighs.
“Officially bored now. Bye!” Another rev and Pan’s rocketing off into the road, barely missing an SUV that leans loudly on the horn.
“Motherfucker,” I whisper under my breath. “You got a death wish?” I add, into the mic. I’m ready: helmet snug, jacket zipped, clutch in.
“Pssh.” Pan’s voice rings in my ear through the mic as I accelerate after him, Blue, Fox, and Kit trailing. “I’m too young to die.”
Someone snorts. Kit. “Yeah, okay. What’s that saying? Die young, leave a good-looking corpse?”
“Damn.” Fox. Tearing up the road to my left, leaning back a little in his seat. “They say that?”
“Only if you’re good-looking in the first place.” Blue again. “Rules him out.”
“Hey!” Pan cries. “I’m pretty. Tink, back me up.”
I speed up, skating lane to lane, eating up pavement. Heart racing along with the engine.
“Beautiful,” I deadpan. “Stunning.”
Pan laughs. “Thank you.”
I catch up to Pan. Hang right at his side. Wind whipping over me, blasting the leather surface of my chest, roaring in my ears.
It’s all for show, the shit-talking. Even from me.
No sooner do I catch up than Pan zips ahead. Teasing me, baiting me to follow.
I do. Like I always do. The bike hums underneath me, and I try to tune into that instead. It’s a good bike, nothing fancy—Kawasaki Ninja, bright green, couple of scratches but fits me just fine at all of my 5’ 11” in boots. Three or four previous owners, according to Fox when he handed it over to me, butshe purrs like a kitten.
And I do like that. The sound, the speed. How it spins the world away from you.
You ever want to fly, Bella?
I shake the memory away and decel slightly as we knife off the exit to the Hills, the sun glaring directly into my visor.
Those days are long gone.
I ride with the Lost Boys now.
CHAPTER 2
