by Rashaad Bell
Chapter 12
Something simple…
The ride back to school was amazing. I held on to Ethan for dear life and he cranked up the Night Rod Special to heart attack inducing speeds, swerving in and out of traffic like that’s just how it’s supposed to be done. I loved every minute of it. The sad thing about how fast we were going was that we ended up at school a lot sooner than I had wanted.
I think I might be turning into a speed junkie.
Class was still in session, but I was the only one with the keys to the car. I had no intention on staying, however, that was utterly out of the question. I was tired, extremely tired in fact, considering I never went to sleep last night and all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and take a nap. That was the plan at least.
First, I needed to find Abigail so I could give her keys to the car. I could’ve had Ethan drop me off at the house and had him give the keys to her, but I didn’t consider that an option. I wanted to spend more time with him. Plus, I wanted to ride that bike of his again. The hum of the engine between my thighs was very interesting.
I found Abigail at gym class, running around the track. She was killer in anything under three miles, which she could make in less than sixteen minutes easy. I posted up against the fence, watching her do her thing, while Ethan had disappeared somewhere behind the bleachers to smoke a cigarette and to check out those books that John gave him.
John freaking Rogers.
That dude, I don’t even know where to begin.
The things he said, they were just so left stratosphere. You have your government conspiracy theorist, you had your alien conspiracy theorist and then you had John Rogers speaking that educated madness so proficiently that when he was done, you really would think two plus two equals three.
The Mark of Pandora. Alternate realities. The Seventh dimension. Gods that exist across the Bleed of Creation. It was asinine, ludicrousness to the second power. Ethan just ate it all up. I’m not sure if I believed anything the guy said, but…
He knew Connor though.
“Hey girl, what’s up?” Abigail had completed her run, coming to a stop at the fence. “What are you doing here?”
I dug into my pocket. “I’m done for the day, about to head home. Wanted to leave you the keys to The Rolling Stone.”
“Yeah, cool.” She looked worried. I could tell she still wanted to talk about what happened to me, but I wasn’t in the mood for all that right now. All I wanted was my bed, some ice cream and some Twizzlers. Not in that exact order however.
She took the keys from me. “How are you getting home?”
“Ethan Blackwood.”
It took a second for Abigail to process. “Oh God Madison, you slut, you just met him like, yesterday.”
“What? No, were not gonna do that, he’s just gonna drop me off.” I laughed.
“Yeah, okay, just use protection.”
“God you’re such a perv.” I proclaimed. “Get your mind out the gutter.”
“Get your vagina out the gutter.” She fired back.
“Whatever. I’m out.” I love that girl. “You stopping by afterwards?”
“And you know this, maaan! My Mom thinks I’m gonna be working at the restaurant tonight, slaving away at some grill. I keep trying to tell her I’m too pretty for menial labor.”
I gave her a high five. “Damn straight. You and me both. I’ll check you tonight.”
“Later alligator.”
“After while, crocodile.”
I walked off, heading towards Ethan who had posted himself up on one of the bleachers. He was smoking a Newport, quietly reading one of the books that Rogers gave him. “You ready to Rock and Roll?”
Ethan looked up. “Listen to this.” He said. “I am premeditated paradox waiting to happen. I ride the singular point of the present until the future is past tense. When your future is another man’s past, yet the memory for it no longer exists, the prophecy of the Forgotten Future will be complete. Does anyone remember tomorrow?”
I just stared at him, a blank expression on my face. “You and my brother would get along just fine.”
“I’m sure we would.” He stood to his feet. “Did you find your girl?”
“Yeah, everything is cool.”
“Come on then, I’ll be sure to go a little slower this time. Sorry if I freaked you out, I know it’s your first time on a bike.”
“If I wanted to take it slow, trust me, you’d know it by now.”
In an instant, I was back on the bike again, racing towards my house, the wind in my face. I held Ethan close, my face resting against the back of his shoulder, my eyes closed. I could still fill the world whip past me even though I didn’t see it. I could still process the speed, like closing your eyes on a roller coaster. Well nothing that dramatic, but it was close enough for me. I hate roller coasters, but this, well, this was something entirely different.
We turned on my street when Ethan called out to me. “Hang on tight, okay.”
I opened my eyes. “Okay.”
“You ready?”
“Yeah.” I said.
Ethan hit the throttle and raced down the block, popping a wheelie as he did. We rode like that the rest of the way down the street before coming to a stop at my driveway. I had to admit, the wheelie thing kinda freaked me out a little. I wasn’t prepared for it. I’d never let him know it though. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I hopped off the back, while Ethan stayed on, keeping the engine running. The way he was sitting, the all black bike, the haircut, he reminded me of a young James Dean.
Dream as if you’d live forever, live as if you’d die today.
“What are you up to tonight?” I asked.
“Same old, same old. What’s up?”
“Wanna go bowling?”
“Bowling?”
“Hey, there really ain't a lot to do here in Palm Coast, okay.”
“I’d do anything with you.”
I placed my arm around his neck. “Careful Mr. Blackwood, bowling is considered a gateway sport.”
“So I’ve heard. Next thing you know, we’ll be playing darts.”
“Call me.” I gave him another kiss then headed up the driveway.
“No doubt.” Ethan peeled off, disappearing down the street.
The first thing I did once inside was grab one of my Dad’s beers from the fridge, twisting off the top with my forearm, a little trick I learned last year from Aiden. The beer was ice cold and delicious. I had never heard of the brand before, Dad was always buying beer from his past. I think this one is some type of Asian brand. I wish he would buy more Coronas.
Speaking of which, I pulled out the cell and tried his number. Straight to voicemail. I tried Mom’s number, but it just rang before the voicemail kicked in. I put the cell back in my pocket, forgoing leaving a message. I was really tired and it was all starting to catch up with me, so I downed the rest of the beer as quick as I could then headed upstairs, collapsing on my bed, falling asleep almost immediately.