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Since my brothers and cousins were already out of high school, I’d be the only Montgomery at the academy. My brothers were all older—Tom was nineteen, Jasper was twenty-one, Hunter was twenty-four and Brantley was twenty-six. Given that they were boys, they were always allowed to attend a co-ed private school. The rules were different for the boys in our family. Not to mention, all the male cousins who were also treated differently, and by that I meant they could do no wrong.
If I heard the excuse, “He’s a boy, you’re a girl,” one more time, I was going to scream. I was protected and sheltered while they were simply allowed to do whatever they wanted.
It wasn’t fair.
Which was why my username was Rebel Rider on this forum. I could be whoever I wanted online, and all I longed for was to be my true self. Not just Belle Montgomery, sole granddaughter of the Montgomery dynasty.
However, I couldn’t risk people knowing my identity and it getting back to my parents, let alone my grandfather. If they knew I was in a public forum, they’d probably revoke my internet privileges. I couldn’t blame them. Talking to complete strangers on the world wide web wasn’t exactly safe, but I wanted to chat with people who understood my passion for street bikes.
From the first time I saw a bright yellow Ducati speed past our chauffeured SUV with an orange Kawasaki Ninja racing behind it, I was a goner. It was the most vivid memory from my childhood. For several seconds, bike after bike raced by our vehicle at lightning speed.
The sounds of the engines roaring through the air made my heart pound against my chest. The adrenaline was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and I wanted that feeling to go on and never end. Even at the age of five, I knew I’d stop at nothing to learn everything I could about motorcycles.
After the street bikes were out of sight, my father called the sheriff who, of course, was my family’s personal friend. With a stern tone I’d only ever heard him use in his office, he bit, “The bikers are up to their takeovers again.”
You see, those street bike races were illegal in our town, and despite the persuasive efforts of the community, it didn’t stop the bikers from their illegal race wars. Through the years, they became like thieves in the night, oing their takeovers when the towns were sleeping, but again, it didn’t stop the incessant chatter and gossip about them.
Rumors began that the bikers were becoming younger and younger in age. Which was yet another reason why my family refused my ongoing and persistent request of attending a co-ed private school like my brothers and cousins had.
Finally, luck was on my side when a scandal broke out in my all-girls academy. At seventeen, Macy May got pregnant, and it was the talk of the town. My parents yanked me out of school so fast it made my head spin.
I was allowed to be enrolled into a co-ed private academy like I’d always wanted. However, it wasn’t just any co-ed private school. It was the best because I was a Montgomery and nothing else was acceptable. It was the same school my brothers and cousins had attended. Everything about the academy was decadence. The best staff, the toughest curriculum, gourmet food, and they even had the best sports teams in every division.
My family was basically their biggest donor other than the Hawkins.
If there was something else my family was known for, it was the generational rivalry with the Hawkins family that started decades before I was born. They despised each other, and it seemed to only be getting worse as the years went on. At this point, I was surprised the academy wasn’t named after one of our families.
They were wealthy.
Envied.
Powerful to say the least.
Regardless of what my family believed, though, I wasn’t naïve. I could take care of myself, but that wasn’t going to stop them from trying to protect me at all costs.
Full Throttle: You still there?
I shook away the thoughts and replied.
Rebel Rider: How do you know I’m nervous?
While I waited for his response, I finished brushing the soft curls of my long, wavy blonde hair. People were always telling me that I reminded them of a porcelain doll with my big, bright blue eyes and naturally long black lashes that only accentuated my high cheekbones and pouty mouth. I was curvy yet petite, owning more dresses than I knew what to do with.
Full Throttle: I might have learned a thing or two about you in the last year.
I smiled.
Rebel Rider: Just a thing or two?
Full Throttle: Wouldn’t you like to know…
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. This was what I enjoyed about our banter the most. Boys steered clear of me. If my brothers weren’t intimidating enough, then my last name made up for it. I was sixteen and had no experience with talking to boys, let alone flirting with one.
With him, it was easy. Our conversations were effortless as if we’d known one another our entire lives. However, Full Throttle didn’t know who I was, and I loved that fact more than anything. The feelings he evoked always triggered somersaults in my belly that I’d never felt before.
I liked him.
A lot.
