by Claire Adams
It was Declan.
“Hi there, Declan,” I said. Some people might have been annoyed to see a student show up on their doorstep on a Saturday, but I wasn’t.
“Hi, Miss Allie,” he said. “I was just out riding my bike, and I thought I’d come say hi. Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I said, holding the door open with one hand and taking a step back so he could come in. “Does your dad know that you’re over here?”
Declan nodded. “Yes,” he said. “He wanted me to come over here, I think. I heard him and my uncle Ben talking the other night. I was in bed, but I woke up when my uncle got there because he’s really loud, even when he’s says he’s not. Well, he’s not really my uncle, but I still call him that. They were making a bet. What’s a bet, anyway?”
“Um... a bet is kind of like a dare that you give to someone. Like if I were to say, Declan, I bet you one chocolate chip cookie that you can’t do a somersault.”
He looked miffed. “I can do a somersault.”
I smiled. “I know you can. Maybe that was a bad example. But let’s just say that I didn’t know that you could do a somersault, and I made that bet with you. And then you showed me how you could do one—” He took two big steps and then hurled himself onto the ground, rolling over not once, but twice. “—If you did that, then I would owe you whatever I bet you, which in this case, would be a chocolate chip cookie.”
His eyes lit up. “I get it!” he said. “Do I really get a cookie?”
I looked at the stove clock. It was 11:30, close enough to lunch that having a cookie wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “Sure.”
I went over to the bag and opened it, pulling out the last of the cookies.
“Thank you,” he said. “I know,” he continued through a mouthful of cookie, “my dad is going to win this bet.”
“That’s nice you believe in him. Sometimes that’s all someone needs—is for someone to believe in them.”
Declan smiled, a smear of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. “It’s just really easy,” he said, laughing. “It’s easier than doing a somersault. I heard Uncle Ben say he bet my dad couldn’t sleep with you. Isn’t that funny? Because sleeping with someone’s so easy—you just climb right up into bed next to them! Do you still take naps? I do sometimes.”
“Wait a second,” I said, certain that I must have misunderstood, “you heard your father saying what?”
“He was making a bet. Or no—Uncle Ben was making a bet, and it was about you! Isn’t that funny?”
“Yeah, that is pretty funny,” I said. “Hilarious, actually. How’s that cookie?”
Declan grinned. “Awesome.”
And then there was a knock at the side door, and there was Cole, looking as handsome as ever, wholesome, too, and it seemed a little hard to believe that this guy had been making bets with his friend over whether or not he could sleep with me. I glanced at Declan. Typical of most 4-year-olds, he had quite the imagination, so wasn’t it possible that he was just making this whole thing up? Part of me just wanted to believe that because it would be easier than thinking that his dad was the sort of creep who would bet his friend about sleeping with someone, like having sex was no more of a big deal than a poker game. But there was no way that Declan just imagined a scenario like that—not if he hadn’t happened to overhear something.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Cole asked as he came in.
“I just shared one of my cookies with him,” I said quickly, hoping that Declan wouldn’t get into the whole story and let on that he’d mentioned anything about this bet Cole and Ben had.
“It’s chocolate chip!” Declan exclaimed.
Cole smiled. “Your favorite.”
“It was my last one,” I said, “otherwise, I’d offer you one, too.”
Cole went over to Declan and wiped the chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “Your last one, huh?” he said. “It’s probably not good manners to take someone’s last cookie, now, is it? Maybe we should remedy that and all head down to the bakery.”
It’s probably not good manners to make a bet about sleeping with someone, either, I thought, but only smiled brightly. “Sure,” I said. “I have to go into town and do a couple errands, anyway, and I certainly wouldn’t mind picking up some more cookies.”
Chapin’s downtown consisted of a post office, a library, a church, the town hall with an open space with benches called the Village Green, the Brown Bag Bakery, and a market/general store. All of this was clustered around the one set of traffic lights in Chapin, at the intersection of Main St. and Route 42.
At the market, I got a basket and threw in some floss, a box of dryer sheets, and a package of steel wool. I paused at the wall display of seed packets. I was pretty much a novice when it came to gardening, but even I knew that it was getting to be late in the season to do any planting, so if I was hoping to have any success with that, I’d need to get started sooner rather than later.
“Are you having a garden?” Declan asked as he walked over and stood next to me, tilting his head back so he could take in the whole wall of seeds.
“I’m thinking about it,” I said. “I’m not that experienced when it comes to gardening, though.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “You just have to try; that’s the most important part.”
I smiled. “You’re right.”
Chapter Six
Cole
That Sunday, my parents took Declan to the children’s museum in the next town over, so Ben came by so we could go for an off-road ride. He was wearing a T-shirt and baggy shorts that probably didn’t have a chamois, and his “riding” shoes that looked more like skateboarding shoes. He made a face when he saw that I had changed into my kit.
“We’re not doing Tour de France, here, fucker,” he said.
“Yeah, I know, but if I’m going to be riding, I’m more comfortable in this, whether we’re on the road or the trails. Not interested in getting chafed, thank you very much. Maybe you’re into that sort of thing, but I’m all set with that.”
He sat down at the kitchen table and watched me fill up my water bottle. “So how goes it?” he asked. “I assume no progress has been made in terms of you winning our bet; otherwise, I would have heard about it by now.”
“I might not have won the bet yet, but I’m working on it,” I said.
He gave me that Cheshire cat grin of his that he gets when he’s up to no good. “You sure about that?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Well, as you know, I rode my bike here, which took me right past Allie’s house. And she happened to be out front doing that gardening shit. Why are women so into that gardening shit, anyway? I mean, not being afraid to get your hands dirty is cool and shit, but it’s like a little much sometimes, don’t you think?”
“Focus,” I said.
“Right. So yeah, riding by on my bike, minding my own business, all I did was wave, say hello, just like a normal functioning member of a civilized society would do. I’m expecting her to wave back and shit, but no, she actually got up and waved at me in such a way that I knew she wanted me to stop.”
“This all just happened now?” I asked skeptically. The front windows were open—how had I not heard any of this?
“Yessirree, it did. And would you like to know what our little conversation was about?”
“Probably not.”
“Oh, but I think you do. She wanted to know if I would like to get together with her later.”
I tried to keep the surprise from showing on my face. Huh? What? Was he just bullshitting me?
“I know, right?” he continued. “Not what I was expecting at all. But it looks like she had a change of heart.”
“So do you guys have plans?”
“She gave me her phone number, and I told her I’d text her this weekend. Maybe we’ll do something Saturday night. Just haven’t figured out what yet. Now, if this all happens, this kind of puts our bet up in the a
ir and all. I don’t know if we should still move forward with it.”
I felt that old competitive streak flare up, and it was almost like we were 10 years old again, on our BMX bikes, doing a track stand, waiting for the starting gate to drop. No fucking way was I going to let him win this easily.
“Hanging out does not mean you’re going to get laid,” I said.
“But sometimes it does. You really want my sloppy seconds?”
“Fuck no, but I don’t think that just because you hang out with her means that you’re going to get laid. Call me skeptical, but I just don’t.”
“Should we make another bet about it?”
I twisted the cap onto the water bottle. “I think I’m all set making bets with you. Maybe we should let this first one play out before we get on to any others.”
“Suit yourself,” he said. He slapped the table and then stood up. “You ready? I’ve had like five coffees so far today. I need to burn off some of this energy.”
“Picture of health,” I said. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Out on the trails, I let Ben go first because I knew he’d burn himself out halfway through. He set a pretty blazing pace, which I mostly kept up with, though I wasn’t doing all the jumps, drops, and hucks that he was, and therefore conserving more energy. I felt tired, but I knew if I kept pushing myself, I’d push through the tiredness, get that fabled second wind, and somehow end up feeling like I was on top of the world. All the while, Ben would be feeling like his legs had turned to jelly.
And that was exactly how it happened. I didn’t even go all out because I would’ve just left him in the fucking dust, so as we made our way back, I pedaled just fast enough to stay ahead of him, but not so much that I was out of sight.
“You’re killin’ it,” he panted when we got back. “Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking animal.”
“Must be the chamois,” I said, though I couldn’t deny that it felt good to still be able to smoke him like this, even though I was riding so much less than I used to.
I was about to wheel my bike into the garage when I saw Allie come out of her house.
“Hey,” I said, waving. As I did so, I caught a whiff of myself and hoped that she wouldn’t come over here, which, of course, she did.
“Hey guys,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“Just back from a ride,” Ben said. “My man here put the hurt on me, big time.” Ben grinned. “There are some things he can win at.”
Allie smiled. “Is everything a big competition between you two?”
“Something like that,” Ben said mildly.
“So what are you up to?” I asked.
“I’ve just got some errands to run. I was thinking I might go check out bikes, actually.”
“Ben works at a bike shop,” I said.
“Backwoods Bikes,” Ben said. “Obviously, I’m not in there today, but if you let them know you know me, they’ll give you a discount. Or if you want to wait until I’m working, I’ll be there tomorrow, 10 to 6.”
“Maybe I will wait,” Allie said. “I could swing by after work.”
“Sounds good,” Ben said.
Allie smiled. “Well, you guys have a good rest of your day.”
We both watched her go, that ass of hers looking more than delicious in those shorts she was wearing. When she turned to get in her car, though, I looked away quickly, waved once more, then pushed my bike into the garage.
Time for a nice cold shower.
Chapter Seven
Allie
In high school, there had been this girl, Gemma, that everyone liked. She was definitely tall and gorgeous enough to be a model, but she’d been way more interested in getting good grades and going to an Ivy League school, so she had basically sworn off dating. We sat next to each other in chemistry class junior year, so I was a firsthand witness sometimes to the ways guys would more or less throw themselves at her feet, only to be rebuked. Mostly, she was nice, if not a little cool about it; it wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the guys who were interested in her, she just didn’t have any desire to do the dating thing whatsoever.
Though I didn’t use Facebook much, I knew that Gemma was now in grad school at Columbia, and she did have a boyfriend. She seemed happy, or as happy as someone could seem based on their curated social media page. But what I remembered most about her was not her perfect ski slope nose or how clothes just seemed designed to fit her body, but the way she was so completely detached about every single guy that had shown interest in her.
I was thinking about this when Cole’s friend, Ben, had ridden past, and when he waved and said hi, I stood, waved back, and gestured for him to stop.
Which he did, of course.
Was it at all manipulative of me to suggest that we hang out, after initially turning him down? I had no intention of sleeping with him, but if he was going to make a bet like that with Cole, then I figured at the very least I could have a little fun with it, too.
When I checked my phone on Friday after work, there was a text from Ben, and I wrote back and told him that if he wanted to go out tonight, we could. He offered to come pick me up at 7, so I said sure.
There was still plenty of daylight left when I got home, so I changed and went out to work in the garden. It was a bit intimidating, just the sheer mess of it, but I figured if I started in a corner and worked my way out, I’d at least have a start on it.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I noticed that though it wasn’t dark yet, the sun was definitely setting. I’d left my phone inside, so I dusted my hands off, went inside, and saw that it was 10 of 7.
Ben didn’t strike me as the sort of person who would show up on time for anything, but I quickly washed my face, got changed into something that wasn’t covered in dirt, and was brushing my teeth when I heard a knock at the door.
“Be right out!” I said.
When I went to the front door, I saw that we were basically wearing matching outfits: olive green shorts (his were much baggier), and black T-shirts.
“Nice outfit,” I said.
He looked down at what he was wearing, then back to me. Grinned. “Guess great minds really do think alike,” he said. “Want to take my car?”
“Sure.”
I followed him out and noticed how he kept glancing over at Cole’s, probably wanting him to see us getting into the car and leaving.
“You been to Gardner yet?” Ben asked. He had some sort of hip hop playing, and though it wasn’t turned up too loudly, the bass vibrated the whole car. He had his Red Sox cap on backward, and he slouched in the driver’s seat, one hand lightly holding the steering wheel, the other in his lap.
I shook my head. “No. I haven’t done too much exploring outside of Chapin so far.”
“Why don’t we go there, then? You like seafood? There’s this great seafood shack there we could get some food at, if you’re hungry.”
“Sure,” I said. “Sounds good.”
We drove in silence for a little while, Ben nodding his head along to the beat of the song, mouthing the words under his breath every once in a while. It felt a little strange to be in a car with him; I hadn’t even had so much as a first date throughout high school and college. Not that there was going to be anything going on tonight with Ben, either, but it still seemed a little strange to be sitting next to him, going out to dinner, like any other couple might be doing on a Friday night.
“So have you and Cole known each other a long time?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Practically our whole lives. He’s like a brother to me, really. I knew when he ended up moving out here to Chapin that I’d move close by, too.”
“You guys didn’t grow up here?”
“Nah. We grew up on the coast, little beach town. Cole’s parents are wicked rich, if he hasn’t told you that yet.”
“He didn’t mention anything.”
“That’s not surprising. He doesn’t like to talk about that sort of thing.” Ben sighed. “Th
ere’s a lot he doesn’t talk about.”
He said this last part almost to himself, and though I could have pushed to find out what he meant, I chose not to.
“What about you?” he said. “You hail from the great big city?”
“I do.”
“And you just wanted to escape and live out the small town life fantasy?” He laughed. “Not that it’s much of a fantasy.”
“I like it out here,” I said. “So far. It’s nice to have quiet and space. To be in nature and not surrounded by concrete and asphalt and disgusting car fumes.”
“Cole lived in Boston for a while, when he was going to school. I’d come down and visit him sometimes. The city’s cool, but I don’t know if I could live there myself, either.”
We ordered fried cod, fried clams, and a basket of fries, plus two Cokes, which I normally didn’t drink. The food was incredibly good, though I’d probably have some sort of indigestion the next day.
Ben asked me how my new bike was. I’d gone into the shop one day after work, but he’d been busy helping someone else, so one of his co-workers had let me test ride a couple bikes before I finally settled on a hybrid that I could ride on the road and on the trails. We talked about bikes for a little bit, the conversation somehow always coming back to Cole.
“We raced BMX,” Ben said. “That was about the only time Cole and I have ever really competed against each other.”
“I get the feeling the two of you have a rather competitive relationship.”
“We do.”
“Not just with bikes.”
He nodded. “Not just with bikes,” he agreed.
I almost said, with women, too, just so I could see the expression on his face, but I decided not to.
When we were done eating, Ben drove me around a little bit, gave me a little tour of Gardner, and then drove me home.
“It’s funny,” Ben said. “While I had a really great time with you tonight, I feel like we talked about Cole more than anything else.”