by Claire Adams
“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 air 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 change
d 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. “There’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.”
“Did we?” I asked.
“Sort of seemed like it. Not saying that’s a bad thing or anything—he’s my boy—but, I guess I’m just not used to talking about another dude when I’m on a date.”
“Is that what this is?”
He regarded me. “Isn’t it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I felt like I was a little quick to turn you down the first time that you had come over.”
He shifted in the seat and leaned on the center console, his face now just a few inches from mine. Ben was certainly not bad-looking, but he just wasn’t my type. I could tell that he was going to try to kiss me, which wasn’t how I wanted to end the night. So I fumbled for the door handle and pushed it open, undoing my seat belt right as he leaned a little closer.
“It’s getting late. I should get inside,” I said.
He didn’t say anything for a second, and I knew he was waiting to see if I was going to invite him in. “Thanks again for taking me out,” I said.
He shifted back and gave me a close-mouthed smile. “No problem,” he said. “Oh, and by the way, Cole has herpes.”
Chapter Eight
Cole
I sure as shit wasn’t going to call or text Ben to find out how his “date” had gone last night, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.
Okay, maybe more than just a little curious, because I found myself wide awake as the sun was starting to rise. Even Declan was still asleep. I tossed and turned for a few minutes and then finally got up, under the pretense to go take a piss. After I did that, I peeked out the window, just a glance, really, to see if Ben’s car was over there. It wasn’t. And then, all of a sudden, the side door at Allie’s opened, and she stepped out, wearing her running sneakers and a pair of pink shorts and a white tank top. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she walked down the end of the driveway, then took off at a jog down the road.
I stepped back from the window, knowing that chances were good nothing really happened between them last night if Allie was going out for a run right now.
Declan and I went into town to run a couple errands, and then he wanted to stop by the playground next to the Village Green, so we did. I pushed him on the swings for a little while, and then he saw one of his friends from school, so they went off to play together, allowing me a few moments to sit down on one of the benches.
“I thought that was you!”
I turned at the sound of the voice, right as one of the moms from Declan’s school sat down next to me. What the hell was her name again? I couldn’t remember, despite having been accosted by her when I’d been dropping Declan off just a few days ago. She had a way of waving her hands around when she talked, making the gigantic rock on her ring finger catch the sunlight, giving off a sparkle every time she moved. I found my eyes following that more so than looking at her as she spoke. What the fuck was she saying?
“... ideas for a fundraiser.”
“Huh?” I said.
She blinked. “The year-end fundraiser? Will you be going to that?”
“Oh, I didn’t even realize it was happening.” As I said this, though, I had vague recollections of seeing colorful flyers hanging up in the school hallway, demanding that I “mark the date” for some event, which was probably this fundraiser.
“Well, it is happening, and everyone is very excited about it. This is mostly to replenish the scholarship fund—which we all know that you don’t use—but it still should be a great time. We’re doing it a little differently this year.”
“We are?”
“Yes. Usually it’s at the Harwood Center for the Arts, but we’re going to do it at Moose Lake. Outside. I think it’ll be great. I really hope you’ll go.”
&n
bsp; “Uh, I guess so.”
She grinned. “Excellent. I know all the kids are really looking forward to it. Right, kids?” she called across the playground. Declan and the two boys he was playing with looked our direction.
“What, Mom?” one of the boys asked irritably.
“I said, ‘Aren’t you looking forward to the fundraiser?’”
There was a moment of silence; the two other boys went back to digging in the sand. Declan looked at both of them, then at me.
“Yeah!” he said. “We really are!”
The mother smiled at me. “See?” she said. “They’re really looking forward to it.”
And you’re a bitch, I thought, but I just smiled back.
Ben stopped by later that night after work.
“So, loverboy,” I said, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. “How’d it go?”
It was hard to tell from the expression on his face whether it had been a success or not. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and I knew he was doing that on purpose, making me wait, letting me think that it might actually have been possible that he had gotten laid.
“She wasn’t interested,” he said finally. “We went out and got fried seafood. That was good. And you know what? We spent most of the goddamn evening talking about you. It was rather strange, actually.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “Both that you didn’t get laid and you had to spend the majority of the time talking about me. That must’ve been excruciating.” And while I did feel a tiny bit bad about that part, a larger part of me was thinking that there was no way in hell I was going to lose this bet now, especially if she’d been wanting to talk about me all night.
“It’s cool,” he said lightly. “I told her you have herpes.” He grinned.
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“No, I’m serious.”
I waited for him to burst out laughing and say that he was just playing, but he didn’t, and I realized that he was in fact telling the truth. “You fucking asshole,” I said.