by Jen Malone
Jake laughs, but in a friendly way.
“Same way we got it here,” he says. “We walk it together. Or roll it, I guess. It won’t be so bad with all of us helping, once we get it going. We did it last night.”
Veronica puts her Mickey Mouse watch right up next to her face and studies it. “We have eleven minutes, peeps.”
Peeps? I roll my eyes, because I know she can’t see me. In fact, I’m hoping no one can back here in the shadows as I absently rub the smooth patch of skin above my eye.
Jake looks around the garage, taking in the contents. “I have an idea.”
He tugs a silver-edged black skateboard covered in skull-and-crossbones decals off the wall where it hangs and flips it onto the ground. He steps on the board, bouncing a little to test it, before hopping off.
“I have two old motocross bikes in here too. If we can get one person riding along each side of the float to keep it from tipping over, we should be good.”
Jake Ribano is fearless. I can’t help but be impressed. Before this sleepover, I couldn’t even go a whole night away from my own bed, and I can’t even be that proud I managed to accomplish it last night because I don’t even remember doing it! I can’t imagine being as free-spirited as he is. While I’m busy listing all his pros in my head, Jake disappears farther into the garage to hunt down the bikes.
Paige stands next to Veronica.
“Doesn’t sound like there are enough bikes for all three of us. How would you feel about heading back to Anna Marie’s to run interference in case Mrs. Guerrero comes down?” Paige asks her.
Veronica nods, a very serious expression on her face. “That’s probably a wise decision for me. I didn’t pack my custom-painted Thor bike helmet, and I don’t ride anywhere without it, so . . .”
“Oh, okay. Um, so our plan makes sense then.” Paige avoids my eyes, and I know it’s because she’s afraid she’ll laugh if she doesn’t. Veronica is definitely one of a kind. But mostly harmless and even a little fun. In fact, odd as she is, she’s starting to grow on me.
Jake wheels the bikes out, then returns with three black helmets tucked under his arms. Veronica holds her hands up and shakes her head, so he tosses one to Paige and then approaches me with the other.
“Here, let me,” he says, stepping close and gently placing it on my head. I might hyperventilate. Why is he doing this for me but not for Paige? He looks me straight in the eyes (oh God, is my lack of eyebrow even worse up close?) as he fastens the buckle under my chin.
Can’t. Breathe. Send. Medic.
What is going on here? Why is he being so nice to me? We’ve never even spoken before last night, and he usually keeps completely to himself at school. But this version of Jake Ribano is smiling and . . . and sweet.
I have to say it again: Of all the weird things this morning, this just might be the weirdest. And that’s saying a lot, considering that a havocking hedgehog, seventeen ducklings, and a blackmailing marching band are on the same list.
Before I can really take in the moment, Jake has fastened my helmet and is stepping away, putting the third one onto his own head. Then he unties his sweatshirt and instead ties the rope attached to the front of Hedgie around his waist. He hops easily onto the skateboard and turns to look back at us.
“Catch,” he says, tossing me the hoodie I’d returned to him not ten minutes ago. “Um, it’s, uh, it’s kind of cool out,” he adds with a casual shrug. “Ready?”
“Have fun, guys!” Veronica says, waving.
I slip into the sweatshirt again and swing one leg over the seat. I’ve never ridden a dirt bike. It’s so much shorter than my ten-speed. Will it ride differently too? The last thing I need is to wipe out in front of Jake Ribano. At least the helmet covers my missing eyebrow, but I still don’t want to draw any extra attention to myself. Especially not by being a klutz. I think I might be scared.
With one foot on the ground, I raise the other pedal and set my foot in place, ready to push off. Be brave, be brave, be brave, I repeat in my head, but it only works slightly better at calming me than the counting I did this morning.
Still, what choice do I have, really? Do it for Anna Marie. That’s it. That’s perfect inspiration. I picture Anna Marie, waiting for us behind the Dunkin’ Donuts. I bet she’s biting her cuticles. She always does that when she’s nervous. I imagine her face breaking out into a smile when she sees us ride up with Hedgie. Yup, that’s the image I need in my head right now. Perfect.
I can’t see Paige on the other side of me because of the giant hedgehog between us, so I rely on Jake for the signal. When he gives one, I quickly shove my foot down and balance on the short bike. My knees are practically at my chin, but I’m relieved it isn’t that different from riding my own. Except that the hedgehog doesn’t move at first, and I’m worried I’m going to crash into Jake’s back. But Veronica must push from behind at the last second because the platform suddenly rolls over the bump between the garage and driveway, wobbles a bit, and then straightens before propelling down the driveway.
I have to pedal hard to keep up. I steal a glance behind me and spot Veronica waving as we speed into the street.
I stare hard at the asphalt as we pass Anna Marie’s house, kind of like a little kid who thinks covering her own eyes means no one else can see her during hide-and-seek. But I really cannot begin to contemplate the thought that after everything we’re going through, Mrs. Guerrero might be near any windows at the exact moment a giant parade float being pulled by a boy on a skateboard and guarded by two girls on BMX bikes (two girls who are supposed to be safely asleep in her basement) flies by her house.
Nothing anyone can do about it now anyway. We’re going too fast to stop, and already we’re making the widest turn possible onto Crestmont and pulling out of sight. In the worst-case scenario, if she had seen us, Veronica could come up with some kind of cover story and, once we get back—with Anna Maria—we can figure something out. As long as we have her, none of the rest matters.
I breathe in the wind rushing at my face and, without meaning to, I giggle. Okay, so in no universe could I ever have imagined this would be my morning, but now that I know we’re this close to having Anna Marie back, safe and sound, I have to admit it’s exactly the kind of fun I’d hoped to have at the sleepover. Well, maybe not exactly the kind of fun, but . . . fun. Real fun and real adventure. No one could argue this sleepover isn’t epic. No one.
Jake glances over his shoulder at me. My stomach does something weird that I don’t think has that much to do with the exhilaration of the bike ride. Before I can even form a thought or talk myself out of it, I smile at him, and he gives me a thumbs-up.
We pedal/skate hard and fast, keeping as close as possible to the side of the road to allow the very occasional car to pass. Only two do, one of them honking the entire time. We look ridiculous. I get it.
Luckily, we live in a quiet neighborhood and, because it’s a weekend, it’s emptier than usual around town. We have one last turn to make and then we’ll see the Dunkin’ Donuts. At this rate, we ought to get there exactly on time.
Of course, I forgot to take into account one minor detail: the Dunkin’ Donuts is at the bottom of Hillside Avenue while we . . . are at the top. And Hillside Avenue is very, very appropriately named.
Jake crests the hill first and disappears over the top before I can yell to him to slow down. Is he remembering how steep the decline is? He has to be, right? My dad and I sometimes take walks on this road, and it’s almost hard not to keep from jogging when we head down the top half. My stomach churns again, and this time it has nothing to do with a cute boy. I wish I could see Paige. If she’s calm, maybe I can be, but if she’s not . . .
The first set of the float’s wheels bump over the edge of the hill. Then the second. I don’t really have a choice but to follow. I mean, I can’t abandon the float, or it might tip over. Then again, if it does start tipping over, what am I possibly going to do about it? I’m already hanging on to the bike’
s handlebars for dear life.
I hit the hill at a pretty decent speed. As we start down, I have to take my feet off the pedals because they’re spinning too fast for my legs. Where are the brakes on these types of bikes?
Up ahead, Jake is crouched low on his skateboard, speeding along, the rope tight around his waist. He seems perfectly comfortable. Maybe this will be okay after all. I start to relax, but then . . .
We hit a small bump. Hedgie rocks for a second, then recovers, then shifts sideways on the platform, sliding toward my edge. Whoaaaaaaa. I wobble on my bike, legs out, pedals spinning, and reach for the hedgehog with my right arm. My left arm is so tight on the handlebar, it might meld to the metal at any second. I push with my right arm just enough . . . to . . . there! I settle Hedgie back into place before bouncing away as I fight to get the bike balanced.
Now Hedgie jerks to the right side, overcorrecting, but staying upright on the thin piece of plywood that forms his platform. I’m pretty sure no one took into account to make it sturdy enough for downhill slalom racing when they were building it. On the other side of me I still can’t see Paige, but I can hear her whooping. Leave it to Paige to be enjoying this. A minute ago even I, scaredy-cat Meghan, had been grinning ear to ear at the adventure of escorting a giant hedgehog float across town, but that was before there was actual danger involved.
Now, though?
We’re only halfway down the hill, and Hedgie is picking up speed. The rope between the float and Jake starts to sag. He isn’t far enough ahead, and it doesn’t seem like he could go any faster. Hedgie is gaining on him!
I try desperately to line up my feet with the pedals, but they’re spinning around so fast, they make me dizzy. The most I can do is hold on and pray. Or scream. It’s possible I’ve been doing a little of that, too, and I really, really, really hope the wind is carrying it away from Jake. There is zero need for him to think I am a wimp.
Although if Jake is thinking about anything right now, it probably has to do with the giant hedgehog nipping at his heels. I can tell he’s trying to keep his own balance while using one hand to untie the rope around his waist. The one that attaches him to Hedgie. I scream again as the float goes careening past Jake, whipping him around so he’s now facing up the hill. Facing me. Instead of pulling the hedgehog float, he’s now getting dragged by it. His arms flail as he struggles to stay on the skateboard riding backward.
Without Hedgie between us anymore, I can see Paige clearly now too. Unlike me, she’s managed to keep her feet on the pedals, but they’re circling around so fast, her legs must be jelly. She’s not whooping anymore; she’s concentrating hard on the road and white-knuckling the handlebars.
We’re three-quarters of the way down the hill.
If we can just hang on for a little longer, we’ll hit the spot where the road levels out, and all will be well. I think. At least Hedgie is sticking to the center of the road, and there are no cars in either direction. It could be worse.
Now we’re nearly to the bottom, and I can feel the road evening out. We’re going to make it!
The very second that thought forms in my head, I spot it. A giant pothole to put all other potholes to shame. And Jake can’t see it because he’s skating backward.
I lean low over my handlebars, trying to pick up speed, which is so, so insane, really, but what else can I do? I have to try to help, don’t I? I’m edging closer to both Jake and the float, keeping my eyes focused on the pothole and on Hedgie. It seems like . . . yes! It definitely looks like it’s going to pass right between Hedgie’s wheels.
It does! By some miracle, the platform is lined up just so, and the wheels coast over clean asphalt on either side of the hole.
Hedgie is upright. Hooray! Jake gets the rope loose from his waist and detaches himself from the float. He’s in the process of spinning forward again. I’m only a few feet away from him at this point and pretty transfixed by his movements as he tries to regain his balance. He’s so graceful. Does that sound weird? Can guys be described as—
Thunk. My tires dip into another gaping hole I never even saw coming and slam against the front side of it. The bike stops in place. I, however, do not stop in place. I go soaring over the handlebars, arms out like I’m some kind of flying squirrel, and catch mega-air, landing on top of a stinking pile of black plastic trash bags someone has placed at the end of their driveway on the side of Hillside Avenue.
Paige screams.
I put my head down, not even caring how smelly it is. I face-planted into garbage! I gingerly move each limb, testing them. Man, I’m going to have one monster of a black-and-blue mark basically everywhere, but at least nothing seems broken. Even so . . . owwwwww!
Paige’s bike lands with a crash next to me, and she runs over. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
I roll and squint up at her, just as Jake arrives over her shoulder. I just . . . I can’t even.
“Does anything hurt?” he asks, looking worried.
I manage a snort. It might be faster to give him a list of things that don’t hurt. But I smile to reassure him. “I’m okay,” I croak.
Paige holds out a hand to help me up. I notice Jake trying not to wrinkle his nose at the trash smell. I shake my head, roll off the pile of garbage, and struggle to my feet. My cheeks are practically burning as I brush off my clothes. Ewww. Also, ouch.
They aren’t visible because of my pants, but I can tell my legs are all scraped up. Great. In addition to having one eyebrow, I’m now going to be covered in black-and-blue marks and Band-Aids. Supercute.
Paige grimaces and then steps close to subtly pull something from my shoulder. She quickly tosses it behind her but not fast enough. A dirty, squishy banana peel. Was on my shoulder. In front of Jake Ribano. Oh my God, seriously, universe? I stole one teeny, tiny (maybe not so tiny) hedgehog float, and this is how you punish me?
Jake turns away really fast, but not before I see him push down a laugh. Paige looks ready to lose it too. And then I surprise myself, because I do.
I totally let loose . . . and it feels sooo good. It’s like all the adrenaline from the ride and the crash just spills out of me in the form of laughter. I did it! I did something totally crazy and so unlike myself and, sure, okay, I ended up all bruised and with garbage covering me in front of the boy I like, but I mean, I’m not seriously hurt or anything. And he’s laughing with me, not at me. I can tell. I know I did crazy stuff last night, but that wasn’t exactly within my control. This was, and I still said yes. And it was superscary, but also kind of awesome.
A car honks behind us, and immediately I crash back to earth. Hedgie! Where is he? We don’t have time for this! Anna Marie is steps away, and we need to get her back.
“Hedgie!” I cry. “How bad is he?”
If Hedgie is ruined, will the band kids try to keep my best friend? What else do Paige and I have to bargain with? Nothing.
Jake points over my shoulder. “Look.”
Even though I don’t want to, I take my time turning around because ouch! But when I do, there’s Hedgie the Hedgehog, arms outstretched in a not-so-menacing pose, sitting pretty and perfect atop his wooden platform at the base of the hill. Mocking me, almost. The car edges around him, the driver leaning out the window to yell something at us.
That just makes me giggle again. Is this what being reckless feels like? No wonder people like it.
I catch Paige’s and Jake’s eyes before smiling. “Let’s finish this thing.” I feel invincible right now.
They let me set the pace—a slow one—and Jake wheels my bike (which, thankfully, I didn’t damage) for me as we catch up with the float. He ties the rope around his waist again, balancing his skateboard on his lap, and hops up on my bike to pull Hedgie the last little way to the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot. Paige gives the platform a push to get the float going and then rolls her bike alongside me as we walk the short distance.
She flashes her phone at me. One minute early. We both smile.
Jake peda
ls the float behind the back of the store. As soon as Paige and I round the corner a few seconds later, we spy the pack of band kids.
“Hedgie!” Flute Girl cries, racing up to us. She walks the perimeter of the float, carefully inspecting her creation.
The kid with the baton approaches too, smacking it against his palm.
“I have to give you credit. I didn’t think you’d get here in time,” he says.
I peer around him, trying to catch sight of Anna Marie.
“Well, we did,” Paige says, her voice hard and tough sounding. “So give her to us right now!”
Baton Boy looks at Flute Girl, who is now holding the rope Jake untied from his waist. She nods. “We’re good.”
Flute Girl turns and signals to the boy with the too-short pants. “Bring it over.”
“Hey! That’s our friend. She’s not an ‘it’!” Paige exclaims.
“Look, I love my phone as much as the next kid, but I don’t assign it a gender. To each her own, I guess. Although, technically speaking, half of all ladybugs are male, you know.”
“Ladybugs? What the heck are you talking about?” Jake asks. “Where’s Anna Marie?”
I have a bad feeling. A really bad, sinking feeling.
I pat my pockets, checking for my cell phone, my Ladybug cell phone, but my pockets are empty. My worst fear is confirmed when the boy in the flood pants tosses a small item to Jake, who catches it one-handed. Sure enough, when he turns it over in his hand, it’s a small, red phone with black dots and a total of two buttons: Home and emergency. Jake studies it, total confusion on his face.
“Where’s Anna Marie?” Paige screams, but now it’s the band kids turn to look confused.
“Who’s Anna Marie?” Flute Girl asks.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Moment of Truth
Paige juts out her hip and points a finger at Flute Girl. “Anna Marie! Our friend. You said you had her!”
