“What about your head?” Mica asks.
I pat my helmet. “Still here.”
He smiles, making his freckles dance over his cheeks and my stomach do backflips.
I’m in so much trouble.
“You landed pretty hard.”
I lift my hand to wave away his concern—even though I’m secretly enjoying it—and my shoulder screams at me. I must make a face because Mica’s smile drops. “My shoulder hit first.”
Evan twists from under my arm and inspects my shoulder, lightly pressing his fingers into my flesh.
“Ow!”
“Is it dislocated?” Alex speaks for the first time since I fell. “I popped mine out last summer and couldn’t ride for weeks.”
“Don’t tell her that,” Kurt says.
“It doesn’t look like it,” Evan says.
“So you’re a doctor now?” I tease, and he winks at me, keeping his focus on my shoulder. He’s mentioned wanting to go to med school but I guess I never realized how much the human body intrigues him. I just assumed it was my body.
He steps back and runs his gaze up and down me. Usually that look sends my heart racing but right now I feel uncomfortable. I tell myself it’s because there are six other people watching, but deep down I know that’s not it. He brushes dirt and leaves off my side. “What’s the verdict? Can you ride?”
“Do I have a choice? We’re in the middle of the forest on a trail barely wide enough for a bike. An ambulance isn’t getting back here and I’m not letting anyone carry me out.” I pick up my bike and lean it against my hip. “Maybe whoever’s behind me should stay back a little.” I smile, and everyone visibly relaxes. I didn’t realize they were actually worried about me but the tension in the air evaporates.
“Be sure to check your helmet for cracks,” Mica says. “You might need a new one.”
I run my hand over my helmet. I didn’t land that hard, did I?
Evan peers at the top of my head. “It looks okay.”
“Alex, you still wanna lead?” Topher asks.
She waves her hand at the trail. “Go for it.”
I throw my bad leg over the bike, wincing as I graze the crossbar. You can do this. Pain shoots down my arm when I grip the handlebars, but like I said to everyone, I don’t have much choice.
“You sure you’re okay?” Cally asks, her voice low. “I get not wanting to cause a scene, but I was right behind you when you fell and it looked really bad.”
“Where’s ski patrol when you need them?” She doesn’t laugh at my joke. I touch my shoulder. It’s throbbing in time with my heartbeat. “It’s not dislocated or broken, so I should be okay, right?”
She smiles. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
The compliment makes the pulsing pain lessen, just for a second.
“Want me to stay behind you?”
“Nah, go ahead.”
She pushes off down the trail, Blake right behind her. Alex, Kurt, and Topher are already out of sight, which leaves Evan and Mica. They both look at me with concern clear on their faces.
“I’ll stay behind you,” Evan says. “Unless you want to follow me. Which would be easier?”
I know he means well and is just trying to be nice, but the puppy-dog eagerness on his face and his assumption that I can’t take care of myself makes me want to scream. Or punch something. Or both.
“Why don’t you follow her,” Mica says. “I know this trail like the back of my hand and can give you a heads up on the tough spots.”
Evan nods. “That okay with you, Mike?”
“Yes. Now can we go before we completely lose them?”
Mica grins, watching me for a moment like he’s trying to figure me out, then climbs on his bike and sets off down the trail.
I push off behind him and all worries about my leg and shoulder and head vanish because… um… the view suddenly got much better. I try to focus on the path but Mica’s legs are so muscular the only word to accurately describe them is chiseled. His hamstrings disappear beneath his shorts, which show off his ass in a way that really shouldn’t be legal.
I jerk my front tire around a rock and slip on wet leaves, my balance still unsteady.
“Careful!” Evan shouts behind me.
My grip on the handlebars tightens and I take a deep breath. His concern should not bother me. He’s just worried about me.
But it’s driving me crazy.
I glance at Mica again—okay, it’s more than just a glance—and hit a root. Focus, Mike. I push them both out of my head and keep my eyes trained on the ground. Getting distracted on the trail is bad enough, but it’s dangerous when everything is wet and slippery.
I successfully make it through half a dozen turns without checking out Mica, but am forced to break my concentration when he slows. We’ve caught up to the rest of the group. Alex, Topher, and Kurt have their bikes on their shoulders and are picking their way through trees and brush alongside the trail.
“What’s up?” Mica asks Cally and Blake.
“Trail’s washed out,” Cally says.
“Isn’t that why we’re on mountain bikes?” Evan asks. “Emphasis on the word mountain.”
Cally shakes her head. “It’s covered in loose rocks. They said it’s too unstable and it’d be bad to have another fall.”
Meaning me.
“All right,” Mica says. “Let’s go.” He lifts his bike with one hand and rests it on his shoulder, then looks at me. “Can you get yours?”
I normally carry my bike on the shoulder I fell on. “I’ll just switch shoulders.”
His gaze grows serious. “You sure?”
I nod, grateful he didn’t immediately offer to carry it for me. “Yep, thanks.”
Evan touches my arm, stopping me as I’m about to lift my bike. “Let me carry it for you.”
“It’s okay, I’m good.” I turn away before I have to look into his eyes. I don’t understand why everything has shifted inside me, but it has, and I feel awful. Like I’m betraying him. I settle my bike on my shoulder and we trek single-file into the trees.
“I didn’t realize there’d be this much walking,” Blake says.
“There’s a hiker in every biker,” Mica replies.
Cally whips her head around. “Did you just make that up?”
Mica laughs. “I wish. People’ve been saying that for as long as I’ve been riding. Probably longer.”
“A hiker in every biker,” I murmur.
Mica looks over his shoulder at me and smiles.
Trail Rule #7: Never say never.
Evan drops off Cally and Blake first and tries to come inside with me, but I tell him my body’s so sore I just want to sleep. Which is mostly true. Mom and Dad don’t notice anything’s wrong—although she does raise an eyebrow at the mud caked all over my clothes—and I escape to the shower, where I discover tiny scrapes on my shoulder and hip that I didn’t realize were there. My shoulder aches every time I lift it and the inside of my thigh is a deep red that’ll probably be purple by tomorrow, but I survived. And better yet, I finished the ride on my own.
Once I’m dressed in my coziest PJs, I pop a couple aspirin, then snuggle under the covers to watch movies on my phone. Around dinnertime, I wander downstairs to grab a plate of whatever Mom made, fill a freezer bag with ice for my shoulder, then slink back upstairs.
I tell myself I’m resting after a hard ride, but deep down I know that’s not true. No amount of hiding under the covers can protect you from your own thoughts, and right now my thoughts are scaring me. Things have been great with Evan. He’s all I’ve wanted for so long that this sudden interest in Mica has thrown me harder than the fall from my bike today. But no matter how much I try to reason with myself, my head and my heart can’t agree.
Throwing away my relationship with Evan for a guy I barely know seems beyond stupid, but so does staying with someone whose perfection has grown so irritating I want to claw my eyeballs out.
Evan texts as I’m fa
lling asleep. How you feeling?
Sore. But ok.
Come over tomorrow? I’ll make you feel better.
My stomach twists. I don’t feel right hooking up when I’m totally thinking about another guy. Maybe.
Mom’s making chicken piccata…
My mouth waters against my will. You play dirty.
There’s a pause before his message comes through. I shouldn’t have to.
Point Evan. Sorry. Just tired.
So you’ll come over?
Yes! The exclamation point is the complete opposite of how I’m feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that. At least not until I figure out what the hell is going on in my head.
*****
I’m no less confused when I pull into Evan’s driveway Sunday afternoon. He hurries out to meet me and grabs my backpack from the passenger side before I can open my door, and I die a little inside.
Get it together. This is your boyfriend. He’s just worried about you.
Yeah, but he’s always worried about me.
I follow him to the front door but before we step inside, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I startle, and he pulls back.
“What’s wrong?” The tenderness in his eyes and the way he gently caresses my back makes me regret hurting him, even for a second.
“My shoulder,” I lie.
He releases me but his eyes stay locked on mine. “Are you sure that’s it?”
Okay, so he’s not an idiot. I smile, and hope it doesn’t look forced. “Yeah.”
We wave at his parents in the living room on our way to the basement, and I spend the next hour trying to stop Evan from rubbing my sore body parts without him catching on. Which is easier said than done.
Midway through the movie, Andy stomps down the stairs for his parentally forced check-in and pauses at the end of the couch. “Dude, I thought you’d be half-naked by now.”
If Andy notices things are different, I’m really in trouble.
Evan throws the remote at him. It bounces off Andy’s chest, but he catches it and laughs. “Sucker.” He settles on the ground in front of us and scrolls through the channels.
“We were watching that,” Evan says, his voice not amused.
“Shoulda thought of that before you gave me the remote.” He flies through the channels too fast to see what’s actually playing. As annoying as it is, I’m grateful for the distraction. He pauses on two sharks tearing apart a seal, then picks up the pace again.
“Enough.” Evan leans forward, and when Andy doesn’t stop, Evan tackles him from behind. The TV stops on an infomercial for a vacuum where a blond woman is cleaning her floors, then the boys square off in front of each other, blocking the TV. “Give it back,” Evan demands. Andy just laughs and lunges at Evan. They fall to the floor in a tangle of limbs, each trying to get the other in a headlock. Andy flips Evan and they crash into the couch so hard it moves, but they don’t stop. The lady on TV moves from the carpet to the wood floor and exclaims how her fancy machine can clean both. One of the dogs barks upstairs and seconds later, they come galloping down the stairs. The tension between the boys dissolves and they switch from trying to kill each other to wrestling with the dogs.
I glance from the boys to the TV and back, and a sense of calm washes over me. It’s all so normal. No parents with disapproving looks because we aren’t spending every waking moment studying or worrying about our future. Just teenagers allowed to be ourselves.
And you want to throw this away? the voice inside my head asks.
I grab my phone and text Cally. We need to talk.
As the boys wind down next to the dogs, the lady on TV is replaced with a man telling us how we can buy this fancy vacuum for five easy payments.
My phone dings. It’s not you, it’s me?
I laugh. You’re closer than you think.
You still at Evan’s?
Yeah.
Call me when you get home.
k.
When I look up, Evan’s propped on his elbow, watching me. He holds my gaze for several moments and I swear I can read every question running through his head. I wish I had answers for him, but I don’t. Not yet.
I leave a little while later, but not without a goodbye kiss. Evan holds me like he’s trying to convince me of something, and I give in, just for a minute. His lips and tongue move against mine and I respond like I always have—at least I hope I do. With each passing day I’m more and more convinced that staying with Evan isn’t the right thing, but I’m not ready to break his heart.
And yes, I recognize the irony of thinking about this while my tongue is dancing with his.
When I’m safely back in my room, I call Cally.
“Crisis hotline, what’s your emergency?”
I smile. “I’m a terrible person.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. Did you kill someone?”
“No.”
“Sell state secrets to the Russians?”
“Ha! No.”
“Break up a marriage?”
“How would I even do that?”
“I’ll take that as a no. Cheat on a test?”
“No, but I might have to.”
“Okay, then in my professional opinion, you are not a terrible person. Now please,” Cally clears her throat. “Tell me what you did that has made you form this opinion of yourself.”
I sigh. Compared to everything she listed, my problems don’t seem life-shattering, but they feel that way to me. “I don’t think I love my boyfriend anymore.”
“Hmm. That is a tricky one.” Her voice is still mock professional. “Does he know?”
“No. But I think he suspects something’s off.”
Her voice softens into her regular tone. “Are you planning to tell him?”
“I know I should, but what if this is a mistake?”
“I guess you need to figure out what it is you want.”
Mica pops into my head, but this isn’t about him. Not really. He’s just a distraction. My feelings for Evan changed before he entered the picture. “I’ve wanted Evan forever. You remember what a mess I was after we broke up last year. Getting back together made me happier than I’ve been in forever, but lately it hasn’t seemed like enough.”
“Is he acting different?”
“No. It’s all me.”
“Have you tried talking to him?”
“Sort of. He asked if something’s wrong but I didn’t know what to say. He’s the perfect boyfriend and treats me like I’m the most important thing in the world.” As I say the words, I realize that’s the problem. I don’t want to be on a pedestal. I want to be an equal.
“Mike?”
“I think that’s it.”
“What’s it?”
“He treats me like I’m a prize. Like something that could be broken or taken away at any minute. I just want to be treated like a person.”
Cally pauses. “I wonder if any of this has to do with Reece? He lost his best friend and maybe he’s just trying to keep you safe.”
“He’s pretty much told me that. He’s been way more protective of me than he used to be and while I know he means well and I should be grateful my boyfriend cares about me so much, it drives me crazy.”
“Can you blame him?”
I drop my head in my hand. “Now I feel worse.”
“You can’t help how you feel.”
“I feel so guilty.”
She pauses. “That’s not a reason to stay with someone.”
“Maybe it is. For a few more weeks at least.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Homecoming. What kind of bitch would I be to break up with him right before the dance?”
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“Ugh, not really.”
She laughs softly. “Do you really think Evan cares more about the dance than you?”
“No. He’d probably skip the whole thing if I asked him to.” There was never a question that we’d go—I don’t even thi
nk he officially asked me, it’s just what you do when you’re a couple—but I don’t think I ever considered if he was interested in going.
“So what’s this really about?”
“Am I shallow and horrible if I admit I don’t want to go by myself?”
“I mean…not horrible.”
“Ouch.”
“Is that the only reason you have to stay with him? To not break up with him tonight?”
Panic floods my chest. “Tonight?” Okay, maybe I’m not ready yet.
“I’m just asking. I don’t think it’s right to string him along, but if you’re still figuring out your feelings, then you probably do need more time.”
“I feel like I just put a countdown clock on my relationship.”
“Give it two weeks. At the very least, we’ll have an amazing last double date.”
“As we cheer you on your victory.” I manage to keep my voice upbeat but inside I feel like a part of me is dying.
“Yeah, that’s so not happening.”
“You really aren’t even going to make posters?”
“People will see my name on the ballot. If they don’t know who I am,” I can picture her sitting on her bed, shrugging. “Then it wasn’t meant to be.”
Later, I’m lying awake in bed, Cally’s comment rolling through my mind. Not meant to be. I always assumed Evan was it for me. That we’d navigate high school unscathed—well, aside from last year’s breakup—then do the unthinkable and stay together through college, then get married and live happily ever after.
I couldn’t admit to Cally that my biggest fear isn’t going to the dance alone. It’s that it feels like no matter what I want, everyone else gets to decide my future.
With Homecoming only two weeks away, that’s all people can talk about. Brianna’s flyers are everywhere I turn, and the Homecoming Committee put out the Spirit Week list, which details what we’re supposed to wear each day leading up to the big game. School colors I get, but I’m not sure how dressing up as your favorite gangster or all stripes demonstrates our loyalty to the Monarchs.
The Trail Rules (The Rules Series Book 2) Page 11
