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4
Dean
“No! No way. I’m not getting on that thing, Dean. Did you know that you’re twenty-seven percent more likely to die from riding on one of these things than you are in the passenger seat of a car?” Rissa asks in a huff. It’s so cute seeing her nose wrinkle up like that when she starts spouting off facts. I could sit and watch her for hours, just like I did this morning in the art classroom. Being with Rissa, I’ve never felt more content in my life, and I honestly don’t want it to end.
“I’ll drive slow, baby. I wouldn’t let anything hurt you, I promise,” I tell her.
“How long have you been driving this thing? I don’t like loud noises. I can't take loud noises,” she says softly. I see her hands start to shake, but she takes the helmet from my hands anyway, not meeting my eyes.
“I’ve been riding dirt bikes back in the trailer park since basically the day I started walking. Here, I have these for you,” I tell her, trying to put her at ease while I pull out a pair of earplugs I use when running some of the machinery in the junk yard. The old man lets us get away with anything out there as long as we get our work done.
I’m not lying about riding either. Joey and Landon got a dirt bike from an uncle who died a few years back. We all got to take a ride on that thing, and it’s where each of us fell in love with these machines. The first chance we could, we got all the spare parts needed to build our own bikes.
“Just… Don’t kill me, okay?” she pleads. I help her with the plugs and helmet before she hesitantly climbs on the back of my bike.
I crank it up and slowly leave the parking lot, turning toward the old drive-in diner at the very edge of town. It’s one of my favorite places to eat, even if it is a little hole in the wall. It’s set up like something out of the fifties and has drive-up stations like Sonic. It’s a neat little place that I never get tired of. I help Rissa off the back of the bike, then, taking her hand in mine, I lead her over to one of the outside tables.
“I’ve seen this place a few times but never actually stopped to eat here. What’s good?” Rissa asks, taking one of the menus off the table.
“Everything, and I’m not just saying that. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid, and I’ve tried pretty much everything on this menu. It’s all amazing, and I never get tired of the food,” I tell her with a smile, already knowing what I’m going to order.
“What can I get you two? Oh, hey Dean, shouldn’t you be in school?” Lacy, the oldest of the waitresses serving here, asks, looking up at us from her notepad with a scowl. I love this place, but sometimes this old bat can get on my nerves. One of the bad things about living in a small town, everyone knows your business whether you like it or not.
“It’s our lunch period,” I lie smoothly, winking at Rissa. “Can I get a Dr. Pepper and the jumbo bacon cheeseburger with curly fries, please?”
“I’ll have the same, but can I have a chocolate milkshake as well?” Rissa asks, fidgeting and not making eye contact with Lacy at all.
“Of course, hun. I’ll be right back with y’alls order,” Lacy replies before turning and finally leaving us alone again.
“So, how did you and Lexi become friends?” I ask Rissa curiously, taking a sip of my drink after Lacy drops them off.
“We’ve been friends since pre-k. She noticed right off the bat that I was different, but it never seemed to bother her. It took her no time at all to break through my walls and realize I am who I am. She loves me despite my… difficulties,” Rissa explains, playing with her straw paper, breaking it into little pieces.
“She seems like a great friend. I swear, I thought she was going to jump Eric and take down his whole group,” I reply.
“Are you being nice to me just to get closer to her?” Rissa asks, shocking the shit out of me.
“Uh, no…” I say, choking on the words, a bit offended she would think I would do something like that. She just shrugs, like what she said is no big deal.
“You wouldn’t be the first. It happens a lot,” she says with almost no emotion in the tone of her voice. She won’t look at me now, and I can’t tell if she’s bothered by that or not, but it sure pisses me the fuck off.
“Who?” I ask, trying to hold in my growl so I don’t scare her.
“Who what?” she asks, looking around.
“Who used you like that?” I ask again, more firmly this time. Rissa needs to know, right here and right now, that I don’t fuck around and play games like those fucking pussies. I’m fuming that some fucking asshole would use this beauty just to get to her friend. I don’t give a fuck if she’s autistic; that just makes her more fucking special and precious. Rissa is beautiful and perfect in my eyes. She’s going to find out real quick how much she means to me, and I’ll make all those fuckers pay for hurting her. Yeah, it might be in her past, but she has the scars from it even though she’s not saying anything. I might not be about to erase those experiences, but I’ll keep her focus on making new ones with me by her side.
“A few people. Doesn’t matter, though. If that’s not what you're doing, then okay,” she says again like it’s no big deal.
“Baby, I asked you out because I like you. Because you’re beautiful, and I can’t seem to get my mind off you. Believe me, babe, I don’t let anyone on the back of my bike. You’re the first and last if I have my way,” I tell her honestly.
She’s the only other person who’s ever even touched my baby, and I’m hoping it stays that way. She smiles softly down at her hands before looking back up and forcing herself to meet my eyes. I know it’s hard for her, but her gaze just does something to me.
“I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, either. So, what’s the plan for after this?” she asks me with a smile.
“Did you enjoy the ride?” I ask, trying to figure out how I can spend more time with her.
“I actually did. Something I never thought I would do, but I loved every minute. Actually, I was a bit disappointed when it came to an end,” she admits, lifting her eyes briefly to mine. Even though our eye contact is limited, I can feel the intensity in every fiber of my being when our gazes lock. When it breaks, I wonder if she feels the loss as deeply as I do.
