Lindsay's Joyride

by Molly Hurford

  And the prize? For each group in the competition, there’s that bike frame, painted an awesome sparkly gold. It’s been sitting in a glass trophy case right in the Joyride doorway since the competition was announced, and most of the time Jen can’t stop staring at it like she can get it out of the case with the power of her mind. I’ll settle for not making a fool of myself, crashing, or ripping my pants.

  When we pull in, it seems really quiet. Too quiet (is what I would say if I were narrating a comic book).

  “Lindsay, come on,” Phoebe says impatiently.

  Just inside the doorway, we can see a large group standing around the glass case where one of the prize bike frames had been standing, to show everyone what they were competing for.

  But the glass case is empty.

  “What happened?” Phoebe asks, elbowing a couple of other employees out of the way.

  “Someone stole the frame and the prize check,” Matt wails, practically falling into Phoebe.

  “It’s going to be fine, Matt.” She pats his back awkwardly. “Matt! Snap out of it!” she says sternly as he keeps babbling about it all being over and the contest being ruined. “It’s not that big of a deal. You can write a new check and cancel that one.”

  “But why would someone take the bike frame? It’s expensive, but we have other nice stuff here too,” he moans.

  Phoebe walks away from him and goes behind the front desk to start looking through the employee area and bike shop, probably hoping that someone just moved it. She looks upset too, but I guess she’s trying not to let Matt see. “I know I locked the door last night,” she mutters, and I remember that Phoebe, Dave, Sam, and I were the last four to leave.

  I spot Jen and Ali walking into Joyride’s main entrance, looking stunned as they stare at the glass display surrounded by employees. I motion to them to follow me. While Phoebe starts pacing around in the back, I pull them over into the corner.

  “The trophy frame is gone,” I explain, to catch them up.

  “I noticed,” Jen says dryly, but she’s obviously pretty upset. After all, what kind of first-place-obsessed rider wouldn’t want to win and then parade around on a gold bike as a prize?

  “Who do you think took it?” Ali asks in a hushed voice. This is why I like Ali—she’s thinking exactly like me, reacting like a superhero detective would.

  “Well, Dave, Sam, Phoebe, and I were the last to leave yesterday, and Matt was the first one in this morning. I don’t think Matt stole his own trophy, so that either means someone broke in—or it was one of us.” Ali looks at Jen like she’s considering the possibility.

  Ali shakes her head and dismisses it, though. “It couldn’t have been one of us. We know that much.”

  “What about Dave?” Jen says, twirling her hair. “He seems shady to me.”

  “That’s just because he talks to Lindsay instead of you,” Ali shoots back before I can retort.

  Jen reluctantly glances over and gives me an up-and-down appraisal. “Well, Lindsay is cute, and let’s face it, she’s pretty good on the jump line….But I totally let you have him,” she adds. I don’t think she believes that, exactly, but Jen will be Jen.

  “Gee, thanks,” I say kind of sarcastically, and Jen nicely smiles at me.

  “That just leaves Sam, but did you see him take anything with him when he left?” she asks. I hadn’t.

  “Has he come in yet?” Ali asks. I shake my head.

  “So what do we do?” Jen asks, and I realize they’re both looking at me. I have a squad! Finally!

  “Well, I bet they’re going to stick to the competition schedule, trophy or not, so we should still focus on the competition for ourselves,” I say slowly, trying to think of the best possible plan. “But, Jen, you warm up by the front door and watch for Sam. Ali, you stay by the lockers, and I’ll roll around by the boys’ room so we don’t miss him.” They both giggle at that, but I’m too busy forming a plan. “If you see him, don’t confront him. Let’s follow him. If he took the frame last night but didn’t manage to take it out of the park, we might be able to find it here somewhere.”

  They’re nodding like I’m making sense. Which I think I am. “If one of us sees him, we should whistle as loud as we can, and try to follow far behind him so he doesn’t notice us. Then the other two will join in, and we’ll try to keep at least one of us on him at all times while we’re warming up. Don’t forget, Phoebe will kill us if we ignore the actual competition to follow that doofus around, especially if he doesn’t actually have the trophy.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Ali says, and Jen nods in approval.

  “Hands in, girls,” I say. (I can’t help myself—I’ve always wanted to start the hand pile!) I put my hand out flat in the middle of us. Ali stacks hers on top of mine, and Jen puts hers on top—of course she has to be in the top spot.

  “On three,” I say, but Jen cuts me off before I can continue.

  “What are we called?” she asks, and I can tell she’s getting into the whole girl-detective concept.

  “Shred Girls!” Ali says impulsively. Of course.

  “Perfect!” I say. “All right. Shred Girls on three,” I say. I try not to show it, but I’m really excited. I’ve never gotten to do something like this before, unless you count the time I was very briefly on a soccer team. Which I don’t, because when we put our hands in, it knocked me to the ground, and then someone stepped on my glasses, my right hand, and the hem of my shorts, ripping them up the side.

  First grade was rough.

  “One,” Jen says.

  From Ali: “Two.”

  “Three!” I finish.

  “Shred Girls!” we all say, just loud enough that Phoebe glances over.

  “Act casual,” I hiss at them in a whisper, and we grab our bikes and head to our places to start practicing. The competition might be on, but I’m not nervous about it anymore. I’m ready to take on the world. Even that middle jump line.

  “I still don’t know what could have happened to the frame,” Phoebe is saying into the phone, and after she hangs up, I notice something I hadn’t before: Sam is already here, but he’s skulking in the corner, looking even shadier than he normally does. (Which is very shady.)

  “Phoebe, is Sam acting a little weird?” I think I’m starting to seem slightly paranoid asking.

  “Weirder than usual, you mean?” says Phoebe. Normally, I wouldn’t use the W word, and I don’t think Phoebe would either. I’ve been called a weirdo before, so I’m a little sensitive to it—I know how much words like that can hurt. But in this case, I don’t exactly think we’re wrong. Sam is acting strange and he’s gone out of his way to be nasty to us, so no, I don’t trust him.

  As Sam skulks off, I notice a piece of shiny paper sticking out of his pocket. It looks like the corner of the check that was in the display case along with the bike frame. The one that was supposed to fund a year’s worth of training for the winner and entry into all the contests in this circuit. The check had a gold frame around the edges to match the bike.

  Before I have time to think about what I’m doing, I’m riding after him. “Sam! Hang on a second!” I shout, and he looks over his shoulder, sees me riding toward him, and smirks.

  I don’t think about calling for Jen and Ali; I’m too busy starting to pedal really hard to catch up with him. It seems like he’s looking toward the foam pit, but I don’t know why he would be thinking about practicing in there right now. It’s off-limits, like the rest of the jump lines, since the competition is starting soon.

  So why would Sam be looking at it? My brain is speeding through scenarios, each one more comic-book-level dramatic than the last, none of them making sense. (Sam definitely didn’t stash the bike in a pocket dimension, or time travel to after the competition to change the scores, for example.) But I know he was up to something, and I bet he took the bi
ke.

  Suddenly it hits me. The frame didn’t leave Joyride, but it did get stolen. And then hidden. Sam buried it in the foam pit, probably hoping he could dig it out later and sneak it out of the park with no one noticing. And since he’s not exactly a criminal mastermind, he’s not even being subtle about it.

  He must feel me staring at him, because he turns around and looks at me, staring at him and the foam pit. As we lock eyes, my superpowers finally seem to kick in, and I feel a surge of energy. He looks panicked, and I suddenly can see that he knows that I know what he did. And then he stops looking smug and starts racing toward the pit on his bike. I follow, my heart pounding so loud that I swear I can hear it.

  As he gets closer, I’m not sure what he’s planning to do—he can’t leave with a frame without anyone seeing, but I don’t think he’s considered that. I have him running scared, and everyone knows that’s when supervillains make mistakes. Sam’s definitely made one: he didn’t plan for the Shred Girls to be on the case this fast!

  The jump that leads into the foam pit—the same one Phoebe made me do my first day in the park—is coming up. This time I’m going a lot faster, and I have way less control over the bike than I did that day. This may not have been a great idea.

  But I’m already going faster than a speeding bullet, just like Superman but without the power of flight.

  Sam is speeding toward it as well, and I’m closing in. We hit the ramp at almost the same moment, and I stop pedaling just early enough to let myself coast, up, up, up….

  At the last second, I remember to relax my body.

  And suddenly, I’m airborne. Time feels like it’s slowing down. I can hear some people shouting in the background. Maybe it’s Phoebe; maybe it’s Ali and Jen. I can see Sam, also in the air, looking completely out of control.

  Instinctively, I lean toward him, pushing my bike out from under me and over to the other side, trying to make sure it doesn’t land on him, or me. My legs kick out to the side, and I hang on to the handlebars tight, trying to keep a grip on the bike so I can land next to it, not on top of it, or have it hit Sam. Even if he is a jerk, I don’t think hitting him with a steel bike frame is a good idea.

  It’s tempting, though. But what would Wonder Woman do?

  (Answer: She probably would have just used her Lasso of Truth to get him to admit he took the frame. But since I don’t have one, a chase scene seemed like the best option.)

  We hit the foam at the same time, unscathed, and immediately start diving through the blocks, scrambling to look for the frame. He shoves me out of the way, but I keep looking. My hand finally makes contact with something solid and decidedly not foam, and I grab on. Sam’s hand locks around it a half second later, and we’re in the middle of a vicious tug-of-war in the pit as he kicks and twists to try to grab the gold frame.

  I hear shouting, and before I realize what’s happening, someone has picked me up and is pulling me out of the pit, still hanging on to the bike. Matt has a grip on Sam, who’s suddenly lost all his rabid energy and just looks angry and sullen.

  The hand on my arm is Phoebe’s, and she grabs me in a huge hug. “Holy moly, Linds! You just landed the coolest trick I’ve ever seen!” she shouts, seemingly oblivious to the bike frame. Her gaze catches on the shiny gold paint, and recognition dawns. “The frame!” she screams even louder.

  Matt looks over, sees the frame, then looks back at Sam, who he’s still holding by the arm. “You want to explain this?” he asks, and he sounds seriously mad.

  “I just wanted to get the prize,” Sam says, looking unapologetic, even angry that he got caught. He’s still staring at the frame like he’s about to develop telekinetic powers and move it with his mind.

  But he doesn’t get the chance. “Wait until I call your dad,” Matt says, marching Sam off, and Sam glares as he walks past me. “You’re in some serious trouble.”

  “Girls shouldn’t be riding bikes anyway—they just get in the way,” he snarls. “You’re going to lose the contest, for sure.”

  “That’s enough,” Matt says through his teeth, pulling Sam along. “And, Lindsay, thanks.”

  “Sure,” I say, but I’m furious, my hands are curled into fists, and I’m about to follow Matt in order to start screaming at Sam about just how wrong he is. Before I start stomping off, though, Phoebe turns to me.

  “Umm, Lindsay?” She looks somewhat dumbfounded.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you realize what you just did?”

  I look over and see Jen and Ali sprinting toward me, shrieking. I can’t really make out what they’re saying (I think only dogs can hear pitches that high), but as they get closer and both hug me, I figure it’s all good stuff. “That was an amazing jump!” Ali squeals.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Phoebe practically shrieks. “You just managed to land a can-can and catch the bad guy all at once. It was amazing!”

  “A what?” I ask, totally confused.

  “It’s a really advanced trick,” Phoebe says.

  “I still think you should have told us when you saw Sam,” Jen grouses, but she doesn’t look too upset. “Your hair is all messed up from the foam pit,” she adds, grabbing a stray foam particle.

  To make it a full party, Dave comes rushing over as well, sweating, panting and—for once—looking as disheveled as I do.

  “What happened? Are you okay?” he asks frantically, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me in a confused and worried panic. “What did Sam do?”

  Phoebe winks at me over Dave’s head.

  “I’m fine,” I start, but before I can tell him what happened, Ali, Jen, and even Phoebe are all talking over me, trying to explain.

  “She chased down Sam and grabbed him in the foam pit—where he hid the frame,” Phoebe says, talking the loudest.

  “Yeah, but that’s not the coolest part,” Ali says over her. “She did an amazing air trick on the way down, just like a movie chase scene!”

  “Actually, I was just trying to not hit Sam with my bike,” I say, trying to downplay the trick. I mean, I’m sure I will never ever be able to replicate it.

  A couple of hours later, it’s business as usual. The frame is back in the trophy case, Sam was escorted away by his parents, who we could all hear yelling at him from outside the office, Matt has calmed down, and Phoebe has been alternating between hugging and high-fiving me as she rushes around trying to keep everything organized.

  I don’t know what’s going to happen to Sam, since the frame and check never technically left the park, so it’s less of a theft and more of a prank, but Matt told his dad (and Phoebe told me) that he’s banned for life from the park. Honestly? No one seems super disappointed by this news.

  The competition itself feels a little anticlimactic at this point. I mean, I already caught a bad guy, so I’m floating on cloud nine. People keep congratulating me on nailing that trick—though I still don’t really understand how I did it—and I’m having trouble focusing on the fact that my name will be called soon and I’ll have to go roll through a jump line that I’m getting judged on. Ali and Jen are sitting on either side of me, but none of us are talking. Instead, they’re watching the action, riveted, as they internally judge everyone else’s tricks and think about how they’ll stack up.

  Superhero Tip: Even in a competition, while it’s tempting to compare your abilities to everyone else’s, you’re only going to be able to do as good as you can do. Watching everyone else is fine, but it doesn’t really matter for you. (Which is great advice Phoebe told me a few days ago, but really, really hard to do in real life.)

  I just write to stay calm,

  Lindsay

  (Not very action-hero-y.)

  CHAPTER 28

  As names start to tick away, I realize that I’m on after two more riders. Suddenly, the nerves kic
k back in. What was I thinking?

  Dave rolls by and stops behind me, his first run already completed and with plenty of time until the second. “You’re going to be great,” he says, patting my shoulder.

  Agh. In all the excitement, I sort of forgot that he was going to be watching us.

  Jen’s name is called, and she turns white before stumbling up, tripping over her own feet. She clutches the handlebars like they’re going to try to run away from her, and makes her way to the starting spot. I’m trying to pay attention and send positive vibes, but to be honest, I’m getting a little panicky myself now that I know that I’m up next.

  Jen takes a deep breath and rolls down. She hits the first jump and actually gets some air, but comes down a little hard on the backside of the bump. She rallies and makes it over the second, and third, though her front wheel wobbles a bit at the top and she has to throw her weight forward to make it over. She takes one pedal stroke before the last bump but stops pedaling in time to make it over the jump cleanly. She loops around and rolls up to the top of platform again, high-fiving Phoebe and Ali as she rolls to a stop, looking slightly green and sick, but otherwise fine.

  I spent so much time focusing on her that I almost missed the fact that I’m on deck—meaning I’m the next one to go after the guy who just rolled out. I jump up and grab my helmet, strapping it on in such a rush that there’s a good chance I put it on backward. Phoebe walks over to me. “Ready?” she asks. My mouth is bone-dry and I don’t think I can actually answer her, so I just nod.

  She walks next to me as I walk my bike over to the start line, and the judges all smile and wave. I guess news of my stunt with Sam earlier has spread around the park, because they haven’t smiled like that at any of the other competitors.