by Liz Fichera
“You okay?” He still held both of my arms and I liked that. I needed that.
“Yeah,” I lied.
“You don’t look so good.”
“Thanks.”
“Need a ride?” he said, although he already knew the answer.
“Yeah,” I said, anyway. “Definitely.” My legs felt heavy, now that I knew I didn’t need to walk the rest of the way home. Suddenly the throbbing ache returned to my right ankle. How much farther would I have had to walk? Another mile? Five miles? I really didn’t know. It was impossible to tell when you were standing alongside the reservation in the middle of the night. Black and endless, it was like standing on the edge of the world.
“Here,” Sam said, letting me go to reach around for the helmet attached to the back of his seat. “Put this on.”
The helmet was cold and heavy in my hands. I’d never worn one. I’d never ridden on a motorcycle, either. More firsts.
“I’m glad you finally got a vehicle, but I was kind of hoping you’d buy a car.”
Sam chuckled. “Well, maybe next time.”
He was in a pretty good mood for it being the middle of the night. “I take it you had a nice time with Fred?” I said.
“Yeah. Real nice.”
“Good,” I said, but the news stung me a little. Once again, I didn’t sound happy for him. I sounded…frustrated? Angry? Confused?
“I take it you had a nice time with Jay?” There was something odd in Sam’s voice. An edge?
I blinked, wide. “Yes,” I said, although I was still uneasy about the parts that I couldn’t remember. The not knowing rooted like a big pit in the bottom of my stomach. “How’d you know?” And, wait. Is Sam Tracy jealous?
“I don’t think there’s a single person at school who doesn’t know at this point, Riley.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t you know?” His tone turned from edgy and maybe-jealous to concerned in the span of two seconds.
“Know what?”
Sam cleared his throat, avoiding my question.
In the darkness, my fingers fiddled with the helmet straps. “Stupid straps,” I muttered.
“Here. Let me.” Sam reached for the straps and I reached for the sides of the helmet, just in case there was something I could do. His warm fingers kept brushing against my chin until finally, I heard a click. “There,” he said with some satisfaction. “Now hop on.”
I approached the bike. The rear seat was slightly higher, kind of like a perch for the passenger. The bike was also higher than I’d thought. In a very ungraceful way, my leg swept over the seat. You’d never know I’d had eight years of dance lessons, including three years of ballet. I fidgeted and squirmed until the seat felt comfortable. Then the bike rumbled beneath me.
Sam turned. “You gotta hang on, Riley. To me.”
“Cool.” I reached my arms around his waist. Then I said, “Okay. I changed my mind about the car. I’m glad you got a bike. This will be a good thing. You know, girls really like guys with motorcycles—”
“Just shut up, Riley. And hang on. Tight.”
“Tight. Got it.” I leaned forward, collapsing against him with fatigue and gratitude. I hung on tight all over again.
“Where do you live?”
My eyes popped open. “Oh, you can’t take me there. I need to get to Drew’s house. It’s not far from mine—”
“Riley…” Sam turned so that his chin grazed the top of the helmet.
My face turned up. “I know. Long story. But I can’t go home tonight. My parents think I’m spending the night at Drew’s and my stuff is at her place. Even my house keys.” Tiny lie. There was a spare key that Mom kept in a planter in the backyard, but there was no way I was going home, not at this hour. Mom would freak. Dad would never let me out of the house again.
Sam knew that I was lying.
“That’s not smart. You can get your stuff tomorrow.”
“Just go, Sam.” I paused to swallow before I leaned my chin back against his shoulder. “Please.”
Sam twisted the throttle, a little harder than seemed necessary, jolting the bike. My arms squeezed tighter around his waist.
We raced the rest of the way down Pecos Road, the engine from the bike drowning out everything else, even my conscience and all my lies. I felt warm and safe against Sam again, and I wanted to feel this way for as long as I could.
34
Sam
I was stunned to find Riley half walking, half stumbling alongside Pecos Road. Now I was glad I’d gone looking for my friends at Jay’s party. Or had a part of me come to find Riley?
And damn that Jay Hawkins, letting her walk home in the middle of the night. I squeezed the handlebars, tighter. What a douche. I’d no doubt that he’d pushed her to do things she shouldn’t have, too.
Riley pointed to a street lined with stucco houses arranged like dominoes, each one looking exactly like the next. They glowed in pinks and yellows beneath streetlights that stretched up a curvy road with perfectly spaced saguaros and paloverde trees. A few front porch lights brightened expansive doorways.
I coasted into the neighborhood, bringing the engine to a purr. Riley pointed to a two-story house in the middle of a street that I assumed was Drew’s. I cut the engine as I pulled into the driveway, trying to size up the house. There was no light anywhere inside, not even over top of the front door. One of those obnoxiously cute Volkswagens that always reminded me more of a toy than something you drove on a freeway was parked in front of a planter. A spotlight inside the planter brightened red geraniums that spilled out on all four sides.
I turned to Riley. “Do you have a key?”
Riley’s fingers fumbled with the strap beneath her chin until she removed the helmet. She shook her head so that her hair bounced on her shoulders and my breath caught in the back of my throat. Against the dim light, I hated to say it, but she glowed like some kind of butterfly. The ends of her hair framed her face like yellow silk, and I was tempted to reach out and touch a strand. Feeling cheesy-stupid for staring—even dumber for thinking it—I turned forward and forced myself to concentrate on Drew’s front door. The red geraniums. Toy car. Dim lights. Anything but Riley.
Riley lifted herself off the bike and then walked around to face me, her hand resting on the handlebar. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t have a key.”
“Huh?” I’d forgotten that I’d asked the question.
“I don’t have a key,” she repeated. “There’s a back stairway that leads up to Drew’s bedroom.” She paused. “Thanks for the ride, Sam. I mean it. You saved me. Again.”
My eyes dropped to her lips. “You sure you’re okay?” She wasn’t slurring her words as much, and it was too dark to see whether her eyes were bloodshot. From the picture that had been texted around earlier, I was betting they were fire-engine-red.
“Yeah. Sure. Fine.”
“Well, it looked like you were having fun.”
Riley pulled back. “Why do you keeping saying that?”
I paused, wondering whether I should tell her. I felt like I had to. “There’s a photo of you and Hawkins floating across cell phones as we speak.” My hands squeezed the handlebars, tighter.
“Really? What kind of photo?” She sounded more delighted than disappointed, and that bothered me. I wished she’d get hopping-mad angry about it. I wished she’d get wise to Jay Hawkins. Why did I have to be the one to educate her about him? Why hadn’t her brother already seen to that?
My stomach tightened along with my fists. I slowed my words. “It was just that you looked like you were having a good time. With Hawkins. That’s all.” Major understatement.
Her teeth flashed, suddenly more alert. “We did. It was such a fun party. Well, until his aunt started screaming at everybody to leave.”
“Jay’s totally playing you, Riley. You know that, don’t you?”
“Jay’s not playing anyone, Sam. He’s just a friend. A good friend.”
“You need better friends.”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
I spread my arms. “How can you stand him? Would a good friend let you walk home in the middle of the night? Alongside a deserted road? By yourself?”
She turned away with an irritated headshake, dismissing it, like she didn’t care to think about Jay and his bad manners. “Well, you should have come. You missed out.”
“I didn’t miss a thing.”
“Stop being a baby. Of course you did. Fred, too.”
“Yeah, well, Fred told me that your brother blew her off.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, good!” she gushed. “That’s what I wanted her to think, especially when she didn’t show up with you. That’s good for you. Right, Sam?”
“No, it’s not. It hurt her. And Fred is my friend.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts, Riley. I want you to stop this. Stop interfering between your brother and Fred. It’s not right.”
“But you said you loved her.”
My voice got louder. “Yeah, and that means I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
Riley pouted. “Well, she could have come. She could have been with him. He was there, anyway. The whole school was invited—”
I stopped her again, leaning over the handlebars. “Not me. Not any of my friends.”
“Then why did you drive all the way out here?” She leaned toward me, her hands on her hips, so that our chins were only a few inches apart.
“I told you. I was looking for my friends.”
For a brief second, her face crumpled, like she was hurt. But it only lasted a moment. Then she raised her chin and said, “Okay, now you’re really confusing me.” She paused. “Your friends were here? But you weren’t?”
“We got some texts….”
“Okay. Probably the same one I got about the party.”
I laughed. “Highly doubt that.”
“Oh, Sam. Why are you talking in riddles? Just be honest with me.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
My hands twisted around the handlebars. “Look who’s talking.”
“Now what are you talking about?”
“Nice job keeping Ryan and Fred apart. That’s all.” I didn’t mean it as a compliment.
“That wasn’t me.”
I knew she was lying. “Yes, it was.”
She paused. “I may have mentioned to Ryan that Fred wasn’t coming.” Her mouth twisted with mischief. “He waited for her all night, you know.”
“Well, from the photo that got texted around, he sure looked like he was enjoying himself.”
Riley leaned closer.
“I think he had his arm around your girlfriend and some other girl.”
“You mean Drew?”
“I don’t know their names. But you pushed them together, right?”
Riley shook her head. “I might have.” She looked away. “I don’t remember, to tell you the truth.”
“Well, congratulations, Riley. I saw Fred tonight, and she was pretty upset.”
She spun around to face me. “But…I…” she stammered. “I thought that’s what you wanted. I gave you your chance tonight, Sam. On a silver platter.”
“One more time, Riley. And I’ll say this real slow….” I paused for a breath, mostly to steady my growing anger. “Fred is my friend. I don’t like to see my friends get hurt.” Then I stopped again. “And I sure as hell don’t want to be the consolation prize.”
Riley’s eyes began to blink, fast, as if she were already recalibrating for a new plan.
I lifted my palm, stopping her. “Enough. No more playing. You’re going to have to stop interfering in everyone’s lives. Just worry about fixing your own.”
Her chin pulled back. “Interfering?” She gasped. “I gave you an opening with Fred.” Her mouth opened and closed, as if she weren’t sure whether to continue. But she did. “And I’m pretty sure I got you a spot on the junior prom court tonight. Courtesy of Jay Hawkins—”
I was yelling now. “Jay Hawkins?” I hated that his name took space on my tongue. A dog began barking somewhere in the distance. “Riley. Hear me.” I jabbed a finger at her. “I don’t want anything from Jay Hawkins. Ever. You understand?”
“But…but…” More stammering.
I reached down for the ignition, anxious to leave. I fingered the rabbit’s foot at the end of the key. “You want me to walk you around back? ’Cause I better get going, if you don’t. This conversation is over.” It wasn’t easy to look at her at this point, especially after she thrust Jay Hawkins back into my life.
Riley placed her hand over mine on the handlebar and my heart slowed a fraction. “I’m sorry, Sam,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I made you angry. Don’t be mad at me. I hate it when you’re mad. Please.”
“Well? You need me to walk you around back, or what?” I looked everywhere except into her eyes. I kept my hand beneath hers.
Slowly, she pulled her hand away before stuffing it in the front pocket of her jeans. “No. Thanks. I can make it from here.”
“Okay, then,” I said as the motorcycle idled back to life.
“Wait.” Riley grabbed the handlebar with both hands, lurching forward a few steps as my bike backed up.
I pressed the brake and stared at her in amazement. “Jeez, Riley. You’re lucky you didn’t face-plant into the pavement.”
Her mouth opened, closed and opened again. Her toe dug into the driveway. Finally, she spoke. “You ever want to run away?”
Whoa. Left field. Wasn’t expecting that. I chuckled. “Every damn day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, sure.” And that was the truth. “Who doesn’t?”
Her hand twisted around the handlebar. “You think you’d ever want to run away with me?” I could hear her breathing. “Like, tonight?”
I was almost too stunned to answer. After I’d just told her to stop meddling in my life? But whenever I was around this girl, I was crazy enough to say yes.
Riley was serious, her expression frozen, waiting for my answer.
I finally found my voice. “Just because I want to doesn’t mean I will.” My hand dragged over my forehead and through my hair, the tangles pulling through my fingers. “Besides, why would you want to leave all this? And all your new popular friends?” There I went being all Jealous Guy again.
“I’m serious, Sam.”
I leaned forward. “So am I.”
I fiddled with the key again. “Look, you better go in. And my parents are gonna worry. It’s late.”
“Party killer,” Riley said, trying to laugh it off like her idea was all one big joke, but I could tell she was fuming beneath the surface. She’d expected a different answer from me.
“I gotta go.”
Riley pulled on the handlebar again. “Wait.”
I stared back at her, saying nothing.
“Thanks,” she said. “I just wanted to say thanks.” She sounded sincere. I hoped she was. “You saved me again, Sam. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it.”
After a handful of seconds, I said, “You’re welcome, Riley.”
Then out of nowhere, in a softer voice, she said, “I haven’t forgotten that kiss the morning we were rescued, Sam. Have you?”
I hadn’t, either. But I had to wonder if this was Riley or the alcohol talking. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’m glad you did.”
In the next heartbeat, she leaned forward and kissed my cheek, soft lips against my skin. Not quite a peck, but not quite a lingering kiss, either.
Before I could reach for her—because in that moment I could have—Riley spun around and disappeared into the darkness alongside Drew’s house, her hair the last bit that glistened in the night.
For the longest time, I sat on my bike, just shaking my head at the darkness. “Women,” I muttered finally. I’d never understand them.
> Before someone could call the police about a strange guy on a motorcycle loitering in a neighborhood where he did not belong, I strapped on my helmet and sped back down the street to Pecos Road. I played back my conversation with Riley over and over as I rode into the night, her kiss still on my cheek, the touch from her hand still sending electrical currents up my arm.
I’d never been more mixed up in my entire life. My life had grown seriously out of control.
I pulled back on the gearshift. The sooner this side of Pecos Road found itself in my rearview mirror, the better.
35
Riley
Drew could barely stand to look at me the next morning. I had hoped it was because of her hangover but it wasn’t. She hadn’t even suggested we go out for mochas before she dropped me back at my house. We always did mochas after a sleepover. Our conversation had sounded something like this:
“Your brother was so not into me last night, Riley. You lied to me. You gave me false hope.”
“I did not.” Then I hesitated and felt all sorts of guilty, especially when I saw the hurt in her face. “Well, I probably should have warned you it wouldn’t be easy.”
“You should have warned me about a lot of things, especially about listening to you.”
“I’m sorry, Drew.”
“I kept him occupied, just like I promised. But I felt like a total idiot, especially when he kept asking me and everyone else with eardrums, ‘Have you seen Fred?’ It was pathetic. I hate to disappoint you but your matchmaking plan is seriously flawed.”
“I’m so sorry, Drew. Really, I am.” I could apologize one hundred times but there was no placating her. She was pissed at me, really royally pissed at me, for the first time since we’d been friends. I had planted the seed that she had a chance with my brother and from the looks of things I would regret that for the rest of my life.
“You know what I think?” Her bloodshot eyes got all squinty when she had said this, too, almost to the point where it scared me. “I think you came up with this stupid matchmaking ruse just to get close to Sam Tracy. That’s what I think.”
I didn’t answer her.
After Drew dropped me off, I spent the rest of Saturday in my bedroom, sulking and waiting for the anvil in my head to disappear.
