Mom clears her throat. “We’re on your team.”
“But no more lying,” Dad says. “Or you’ll be grounded for real.”
I bob my head. “Thank you. Really. And I’m sorry that school doesn’t hold the same fascination for me as it did for Maddy, but I do try, I swear.” I take a breath. “I hate that I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up, but I don’t.”
“It’ll come with time,” Dad says. “I didn’t declare my major until my junior year of college.” My jaw drops, and he laughs. “We can’t all be as perfect as your mother.”
She swats him with her napkin and they share a laugh, leaving my head spinning. Who are these people and what have they done with my parents?
“So I’m cool to go riding again tomorrow?”
“Who are you going with?” Dad asks.
“My friend Hannah.” I hope they don’t ask who I was with today because I’m not ready for a full-on truthfest. Not yet.
“You’ve never mentioned her before,” Mom says.
I take a bite of chicken and chew it slowly while they watch me. They know I don’t hang out with the Bunnies anymore and that Cally’s my best friend, but I never got into the details. “We sit next to each other in homeroom. I found out she rides so we decided to go together. And I’ve been sitting with her and her friends at lunch.”
Mom smiles. “I’m glad you’re making new friends.”
Dad sets his fork next to his plate. “I hope these girls are nicer than Brianna and that other girl.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You have no idea.”
The rest of the meal goes equally well, and by the time we finish I’m convinced there’s a film crew hiding under the table because we’ve taken on sitcom-level pleasantness. Several times I almost tell them about Alex and Mica, but one stress-free dinner isn’t converting me into the daughter who tells them everything. I’ll save that for next time.
There’s a text from Mica waiting for me when I get back to my room.
Thanks for a great afternoon. Are you busy Friday?
My heart leaps into my throat. If today was sort of a date, then he’s definitely asking me out. Or maybe he just wants to go riding again. Which would be fine, except I kind of want to spend some time with him face to face, not playing follow the leader—even if there are worse ways to spend a couple hours than staring at his ass.
I close my eyes and take several deep breaths to calm myself, then reply. I had fun too. I’m free Friday. Did you want to ride again? No, scratch that. I had fun too. I’m free Friday. What did you have in mind? Wait, what if he isn’t asking me out and he does just want to ride again? I delete the last sentence so it’s just I had fun too. I’m free Friday. I hit send before I can change my mind and text Cally.
Dating is stressful.
Her reply comes almost immediately. Tell me about it. Do you not remember my first couple months here?
Haha. You were a mess.
So what happened in the last hour?
He asked me out. I think.
You think?
He asked if I’m free Friday.
That sounds like he’s asking you out.
I’m 99% certain. I just said I’m free.
Safe. Smart. What’d he say?
Hasn’t replied.
As if on cue, Mica writes back. I switch to his thread to read his text. Dinner?
My insides turn to mush. I’d love that.
Cool.
I switch back to Cally. !!!!!!!!!
WHAT?!
Dinner!!
OMG!! I’m running in circles around my room!
Me too! Okay, I’m not, but my heart’s racing like I am.
A date.
With Mica.
This is crazy.
Two weeks ago I was afraid that if I broke up with Evan I’d be single forever, and now I’m dating again.
I gotta go. Homework. Now that my parents have lifted their ridiculous no social life rule, I don’t want to let them down by not studying. I’m tempted to tell Cally about the dinner conversation, but I try not to complain about my parents to her since she doesn’t have a mom. She’d trade places with me in a heartbeat.
Me too. ttyl
I flip open my Ethics notebook. We’re studying situations where people might say it’s okay to break the law if it’s for a good reason—like stealing food to feed your children or speeding if you’re taking an injured person to the hospital—and we’re supposed to come up with an example of our own. So far all I can think of are different variations of stealing or lying—both things I try not to do unless absolutely necessary. Which I guess is the point of this assignment.
“I hate not having classes with my friends.” Talking to myself might be the first sign that I’m losing it. I could ask Mom and Dad for ideas—they’d be thrilled to help—but I’m too lazy to get up.
I could text—no. I’m not texting Brianna, even if she did offer to help me study. Cally’s so squeaky clean she won’t be any help. Evan could come up with something but he’s off limits.
I glance at my phone. Maybe Mica? That’s one way to get to know him. “Screw it,” I mutter, then type out a message. What’s a law that it’s sometimes okay to break?
A message from him comes through just as I hit send. Do you have a favorite restaurant or should I pick?
“Oh, crap!” I slap my hand over my mouth. Now he’s going to think I really am crazy.
I’ve never heard of that place.
I laugh. Sorry. Cross text.
Is there a specific answer you’re looking for?
Ethics homework.
Isn’t it unethical to have me do your homework?
Oh my, he’s funny. And smart. Only if you tell.
Ha. You’re using that?
It’s perfect!
So. Dinner?
God I’m an idiot. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t change his mind before the night’s over. I don’t have a favorite.
I don’t believe that.
I do have a favorite. An Italian restaurant in downtown Boulder. It’s also Cally and Blake’s favorite, but it’s where Evan took me anytime we went on a real date and it wouldn’t feel right bringing Mica there, especially so soon. You pick.
Is there anything you don’t eat?
Nah, I’m easy. I blush as soon as I hit send. What the heck has happened to my filter? But back-pedaling now will only make it sound worse.
Then it’ll be a surprise. Pick you up at 7?
That sounds perfect.
Friday can’t get here soon enough.
Chapter 22
Hannah’s practically glowing when I get to homeroom. “They just announced the prizes for the Pow Cross!”
My bag drops to the floor and I stare at her. “You entered too?” We’re still getting to know each other, but Hannah never seemed like the competitive type.
“Everyone who rides does. I signed up the second they opened registration.”
“I still can’t decide if I should.”
She bounces in her seat. “You have to! It’s like an all-day party and it’s in less than two weeks! The baby brackets run first while the trail is still in good shape, then the more advanced riders head out.”
“Baby brackets?”
Her smile fades. “The beginners. Sorry, that’s not the official name.”
“If I enter, that’s where I’ll be.”
“You’ve been riding all summer. I bet you’re better than you think.”
I laugh. “I appreciate the thought, but you’ll change your mind this afternoon.”
She grabs my arm. “You have to enter. There’s never any girls there that I know. At least not from school. I recognize people from the trails but don’t really know them.” Her eyes get a faraway look. “There’s this chick with long braids who smokes the trail every year. I think she’s won our age group the past three years.”
I know there’s more than one person who wears braids when she rides, but I’d bet money i
t’s Alex. “I think I’m friends with her. They go to Longmont.”
Hannah nods. “That sounds right. How’d you end up in her crew?”
“Evan and I met them at the end of summer.” That day when Topher and Mica barreled into my life feels like forever ago. “And,” I lower my voice. “I sort of had a date with one of them yesterday.”
She grabs my arm. “So it was a date! Which one is he?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I kind of don’t want to say now.”
She loosens her grip but the intensity in her eyes doesn’t waver. “Come on. Biking world gossip is so much better than regular high school stuff.”
“I just don’t want it getting back to Evan. At least not yet.”
She draws an X over her lips with a finger. “I won’t say a word.”
“It’s Mica. The red-head with—”
“Your name twin!”
I roll my eyes. “That’s what Topher said when we first met. It’s how he stuck in my head.”
“Wait, I know Topher, but not Mica. You said he has red hair?”
“Not like flame-thrower red. More like light brownish red.”
“Hmm. I’ve probably seen him. So you went out?”
“Riding. Then last night he asked me out for Friday.”
She drums the tips of her fingers together. “Very interesting. So you’re definitely doing the Pow Cross.”
I burst out laughing. “What makes you say that?”
This time she raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re in our world, girlie. There’s no escaping now.”
I try to compose my excitement during the first two periods. Regardless of whatever’s going on with Brianna, she picks up on changes in moods like she’s a fricking sorceress. I ignore them through History, and in Ethics stay focused on Miss Simpson—even when she has the class tell which law we think it’s okay to break. Several kids use variations of speeding and stealing to help someone.
When it’s my turn my answer comes out as a question. “Cheating on homework?”
Several kids laugh, and Miss Simpson bites back a smile. “I’m not sure that’s an actual law, but I understand the intent. Cheating on a test would definitely be a rule-breaker.”
“But that’s not a law,” someone murmurs from the back of the room.
A flush creeps up my neck and warms my cheeks. I should have thought about this more. Of course cheating on homework doesn’t compare to breaking actual laws, but I was so excited to use Mica’s answer I called it good and switched to my other homework.
Miss Simpson hesitates, like she’s debating whether she should defend me or not, then calls on someone else.
Brianna’s watching me from the corner of my eye, but I refuse to look at her.
Then it’s her turn. “Property damage.”
Every head swivels to look at Brianna. Miss Simpson’s eyebrows shoot straight up. “Would you care to elaborate, Miss Vines?”
I finally allow myself to look at Brianna. She’s biting her lip like maybe she regrets saying that out loud, but she’s never been one to back down from a challenge.
“Not maliciously. Sometimes you have to break something to save someone.” She straightens. “Like a car window if a baby is locked inside.”
The class visibly relaxes, like we all exhale at the same time.
But I’m not convinced. Something about the way her eyes narrowed before she explained herself makes me think she slipped up—that saving a baby is not what she meant. I haven’t heard anything but my gossip-fu isn’t what it used to be.
Miss Simpson nods to the girl behind Brianna and the class finishes their examples.
When the bell rings, Brianna stops me before I leave. “You know I wouldn’t do that, right?”
I rest my knee on my chair, getting out of the way of the kids in my row. “Do what?”
“Damage someone’s property just because I’m pissed.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“No, but I know how you think.” She looks down at her hands, which are twisted around the strap of her backpack. “What you think of me.”
I tilt my head. “Since when do you care what I think?” As a rule, Brianna cares what everyone thinks, but since I ended our friendship, my opinion stopped mattering. At least I assumed it did.
She moves to the door and I follow, curious. “Mike, I just want you to know I didn’t do anything. This was just a stupid assignment.”
“Whatever you say, Bri.” I hike my bag higher onto my shoulder and let the flow of bodies carry me to Chemistry, their arms brushing me like the branches at the edge of a trail. Did something happen and now she’s trying to cover for it? That’s what it seems like, but I haven’t heard of anything going down. I’m itching to tell someone about Brianna, but that would make me as bad as her and Kenzie.
No, I don’t need to gossip. If she damaged someone’s property, I’ll hear about it sooner or later.
My curiosity keeps me distracted enough through Chemistry that I don’t feel as awkward with Evan. Or maybe he’s perfected the art of ignoring me. Either way, class flies by and at lunch Hannah and I plan where to meet for our ride.
When I pull into the parking lot at the address Hannah gave me, I’m ready to shred the trails. I park next to her and once we’ve got our bikes out of our cars, we strap on our helmets and roll toward the start of the trail.
“Since I don’t know your level, I figured I’d take you on my favorite trail and you yell if you need to stop.” She studies me closely, and I nod.
“Works for me.”
We start slowly on a flat stretch, and I feel the emotion from the day seep out of me. If there was a way to spend all my time out here in the middle of the woods, I’d do it. The air has cooled in the past month, but today is hotter than normal and my hair’s already sticking to the back of my neck.
Hannah is quieter than the others. Where Mica and Alex—and even Evan—point out obstacles or wild animals off in the distance, she stays focused on the trail. Without her help, I have to concentrate even more on what’s in front of me, but this is good. It’s what I need. If I have any hope of finishing the Pow Cross I need to be able to navigate a trail on my own.
She’s leading, but for the first time I don’t feel like I’m following. Being on a new trail, with a new rider—it’s like I am out here on my own, and it feels good. To not have someone telling me what they think I should do or worrying that I’m going to screw up somehow. Mica doesn’t baby me, but I can see his concern in the way he watches me when he thinks I’m not looking. Alex definitely doesn’t treat me like a newbie but I’m so in awe of her my feelings of inadequacy are completely self-induced. With Hannah, we’re just riding.
We stop at the top of a bluff overlooking the forest. The trail drops into a ravine that’s carved out by a stream at the bottom. Sunlight filters through the trees high above, and animals rustle the plants on either side of the trail.
“This is gorgeous,” I say. “I’m so glad you brought me here. I’ve only been to Crestpoint.”
“It doesn’t have any blacks so the hard-core riders don’t come here as much, but I love it.” She grabs her water bottle and takes a long drink, then wipes the back of her hand across her forehead.
“You’re really good.”
She shrugs. “I’m at peace out here.”
I take a drink of water. “I was just thinking the same thing. I wish there was a way I could spend all my time in the woods.”
“Like a park ranger?”
I laugh and water goes up my nose. I bend over until it clears, and smile up at her. “I wasn’t thinking in a professional sense.”
Her face grows serious. “Are you saying you want to be one of those tree people?”
I nod solemnly. “And I will only enter civilization to replenish supplies. Or better yet, I’ll make you do it.”
She squirts me with her water bottle and I squeal.
The shock of cold water feels good and I take another drink.<
br />
“Winter’s a bitch though. How will you stay warm?”
My thoughts immediately flash to Mica. Since nothing has happened with us physically I have to fill in the gaps with my imagination, but my imagination doesn’t hold back.
Hannah bursts out laughing. “Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”
I laugh with her. “Nope. Completely scandalous.
“I need to meet this boy.” She replaces her water bottle and rests a foot on a pedal. “You ready to keep going?”
I holster my bottle and nod. “One other thing.”
She looks back at me.
“Baby bracket or not, I’ve decided to enter the Pow Cross.”
She jumps off her bike and high fives me. The slap from our hands echoes off the trees, sending nearby critters scurrying away. “Mike, that’s awesome! And don’t enter the baby bracket. You’re at least a level two.”
Her confidence fills me with pride, and I tackle the rest of the trail with a determination I haven’t felt since Cally took me on the black at Eldorado—before the avalanche.
*****
Later, after I’ve showered and eaten another pleasant dinner with my parents—I really need to thank Maddy for whatever she said to them—I settle in for a fun night of homework, but a certain boy keeps rolling through my thoughts. I fight it as long as I can, but I finally pull out my phone.
I text Alex first. You are amazing. Thank you.
Then I send the same thing to Maddy.
With Cally, I share the info that’s been buried since this morning. Bri is acting super weird.
And finally Mica. I entered the Pow Cross today!
My chest feels a little lighter, and I turn back to my History book, but the replies come all at once.
Cally: As opposed to any other day? What now?
Some weird comment about damaging property in Ethics, then she cornered me to make sure I didn’t think she really did it.
That is weird. Why does she care?
No idea.
I wonder…
If a watched pot never boils, a watched phone definitely doesn’t send a message faster from your friend who can’t spit out what she’s thinking. What? I finally ask.
The Trail Rules Page 18