by Claire Adams
I thought about all the things Tara had said. She did have a point, I suppose; Graham and I weren’t actually going out. I thought about the endless amount of crap my mother would give me if I turned Parker down, if I didn’t even give him a chance. He wasn’t a bad guy; I could tell that just by standing here talking with him these few minutes; hanging out with him wouldn’t be awful. We could go out and do something and then I could tell my mother—and Tara—that it hadn’t worked out and at least I had given it a shot. They couldn’t be upset over that. Plus, Parker would probably realize that I just wasn’t on his level, because, well, I wasn’t.
“Fine,” I said. “We can hang out some time. What did you have in mind?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Graham
Francesca was one of my long-term customers who came to the Cape every summer for a few weeks. She was married and worked as a model and a professional cyclist. And not just mountain biking; she did cyclocross, criteriums, and road races. She had a full sleeve on her left arm, a half-sleeve on her right, and we were currently working on a full back piece that was sort of a Salvador Dali/Edward Gorey mashup. With bikes.
Ninety percent of Francesca’s tattoos were done by me, and she’d given me free reign to design the back piece, which had been a lot of fun. I was always happy to see her, and today was no different. Except, midway through our session, when she told me that she and her husband, Anthony, had called it quits.
“We’re divorced,” she said. She was lying there on her stomach, her shirt off. I was working on an area on her mid/lower back, so she’d kept her bra on. She craned her neck around and gave me a devilish grin and a wink. “I know you’ve been waiting to hear those words. I’ve been waiting to say them to you.”
“Oh boy, Franny,” I said. “You fuckin’ slay me.”
“I’ll be here for another two weeks. And then taking off for Les Gets. Care to join me?”
“You know I’d love it, but I can’t.”
“Well, you can at least keep me company in that big hotel room of mine.”
Ah, timing. I smiled and shook my head ruefully. “Afraid I’m going to have to pass,” I said.
She craned her neck further, a genuinely surprised look on her face. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Have you taken the cloth?”
“No, definitely not becoming a priest. I met someone, actually.”
“Ah.” She lay her head back down on her forearms. “That figures. So, it must be serious, then?”
“Well, we haven’t known each other that long.” An image of Chloe appeared in my mind and I smiled.
“Listen to you!” Francesca giggled. “I can hear how much you like her. That’s sweet. I’m happy for you, Graham. Disappointed for myself, naturally, but happy for you. You’ll have to introduce me.”
“Sure,” I said.
“Actually, no, don’t—I’ll just be jealous.”
“You’re the worst,” I said, shaking my head. I got back to work. Before I’d met Chloe, I would’ve been all over the chance to sleep with Francesca. And now, here she was, basically offering herself to me and I just wasn’t interested. “You know,” I said, “if you’re looking for a little fun, I could pass my buddy’s number along to you. I think you might’ve met him here at the shop before, his name’s Todd ....”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chloe
Parker surprised me, because instead of saying he wanted to go to some fancy restaurant or take his father’s boat out, he suggested we go to the county fair.
“It’s only in town for another two days,” he said. “I’ve got a hankering for some fried dough. And it’s a great time to mingle with the locals.” He grinned and winked at me.
I didn’t tell him I’d never been to the county fair, nor had I ever had fried dough. If anything, this whole summer was only making me realize how I basically had never done anything.
The fair was packed. We parked in a grassy field and walked the short distance to the entrance. Parker paid for our entry and we stepped through the turnstile. There were people everywhere; families pushing strollers and holding the hands of young children, groups of rowdy teenagers, kids my age, and then plenty of adults, too, everyone with big smiles on their faces.
The animal exhibits were just shutting down. “Oh, that’s too bad,” I said. “I wanted to see some of the animals.”
“I should’ve gotten you here sooner,” Parker said. “Come on, let’s check it out; I’m sure they’ll let us see something.” We walked over, the smell of livestock pungent in the air.
“I’m not so much into the animal aspect of the fair,” Parker said, wrinkling his nose. “But those guys are cute.” He nodded toward a group of Shetland ponies who were ignoring us and eating from a pile of hay. “They’re kind of like big, shaggy dogs.”
There were rabbits of all sizes in hutches, and chicks and roosters and chickens. “I think it’d be kind of fun to live on a farm,” I said, imagining what it would be like to get to see animals like this every single day.
“It’d be a lot of work,” Parker said, stifling a yawn. “Every single day. Multiple times a day. My dad’s younger sister has a horse farm and she’s like, married to that shit. She has horses instead of children, basically.”
We hung around the animal exhibit a little longer and then made our way to where all the rides, games, and food vendors were. The aroma changed from farm animals to greasy, fried food. The sky had just started to get dark. In the distance, I could hear shrieks of delight from one of the rides, a contraption made up of steel cages people sat in that flipped them through the air. Past that, the Ferris wheel was lit up, and moving at a more agreeable pace.
As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice the way basically every single girl we walked by checked Parker out, and then seemed to throw a disdainful look at me, as though they couldn’t believe he was choosing to be here with me.
I looked at him and smiled, right as he let out a huge yawn. “Sorry,” he said, almost bashfully. “I’ve been more tired than usual. I blame my hectic training schedule.”
“What are you training for?”
“I race bikes.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I’ve actually got a race coming up this weekend, not too far from here. It’s on a farm. Well, part of it is. Hey, you should come with me, if you want. There’s a ton of animals there, too, and we’d be there early enough for you to actually be able to see them.”
“That sounds pretty cool,” I said.
“Great,” he said. “It’s on Sunday. We’ll need to get an early start, but it’ll be a nice drive. I’ll come pick you up at 8.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Graham
I got a text from Todd around 6 in the morning, saying he’d gotten food poisoning and had spent the entire night in the bathroom, in front of the toilet. There was no way in hell he’d be able to ride today. Also: was this Francesca person who just texted him THE Francesca? And if so, why was the universe punishing him by giving him the runs the very night a hot chick gets in touch and wants to meet up?
Yes, and, no fucking clue. But she’s in town for a little while, was my response.
So, I made the drive out to the race myself. It did cross my mind to invite Chloe, but I figured she’d be busy working on her sculpture, and I’d feel bad leaving her by herself while I was riding. It would be for a few hours, at least, and even though there’d be other people there, she might find it boring.
I didn’t have much trouble finding the farm where the race was being held at. It was one of those picturesque places, with red barns set amidst verdant green hills, dotted with black and white cows and fuzzy sheep. It was the epitome of wholesomeness, and everyone seemed be in a better-than-usual mood. Guys that normally completely ignored me smiled; a few even nodded or said hello. I was a little late, as usual, so I got my bike off the rack, found my helmet and sunglasses, and made sure I had a water bottle. I took a
few warm up loops around an empty pasture that seemed to be reserved for just that. The sun was bright in the cloudless sky, but there wasn’t a touch of humidity in the air. It was just one of those spectacular days.
I was riding down to the starting line when I saw her. At first I thought it was just her doppelganger, and I even made the mental note to tell her that there happened to be a girl with an uncanny resemblance to her at the race today. But then she turned and her eyes met mine, and it was Chloe. And who was she standing next to?
Parker.
I rode over. The look of surprise on her face probably matched the one on my own.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said. Parker had been fiddling with his brake cable, but stopped when I approached.
“Graham,” he said, not realizing that I’d been addressing Chloe. “You ready to get your ass handed to you today, my good man? I know this course is tough, but I’ve got my good luck charm here today.”
Chloe stood there, her shoulders creeping up toward her ears, eyes darting from Parker to me and back again.
I ignored Parker. “I didn’t realize you were into mountain bike racing,” I said to her.
“I’m not really.” She couldn’t seem to hold my gaze. “I just ... Parker just invited me along. I ... I didn’t realize you were into it.”
Now it was Parker’s turn to look confused. “Hold up—you two know each other?”
I refrained from saying that yes, we knew each other, and not just in the Biblical sense. I didn’t say anything, because I wanted Chloe to answer.
She held her arm out. “He gave me this tattoo,” she said.
Parker barely even glanced at it. “Oh. Yeah, Graham here’s a man of many talents.”
There was a strange tension building in my chest. I’d never considered myself a jealous person, but I wanted nothing more than to demand to know what the hell she was doing here with Parker, of all people. Was this some sort of joke?
But I wasn’t going to let either of them see me rattled like that. I could keep a cool exterior regardless of how I was feeling on the inside, and that was exactly what I intended to do right now.
“Right. Well, see you guys,” I said, and I pedaled off before either could say anything else.
*****
I wanted to completely eradicate every single thing I was feeling; fortunately, a bike race was a great place to do exactly that. I didn’t want to be like Kurt and end up doing something stupid. I also couldn’t really remember ever feeling like this, maybe because none of the other girls I’d been with in the past I’d liked this much. I’d certainly never entertained the idea of being in a real relationship with any of them—not the way I had with Chloe.
But I kept seeing her, standing there with Parker, and there was a part of me that knew they looked right together. There was some part of me that actually understood that shit my mother had been saying to me. Yeah, I’m sure Chloe’s parents would much rather see her with a guy like him than me.
I couldn’t focus. Every time I tried to, I kept thinking about her with him. I pedaled harder, faster, but the thoughts were overpowering and refused to be ignored.
And I didn’t want to feel like this.
I kept pushing it harder and harder, going into corners too fast, not using the brakes when I should, passing people in really precarious areas. I didn’t run anyone off the trail, but I came close a few times. I also wiped out in the rock garden, bailed a few times over some roots, and mistimed my approach when bunny-hopping a big log most people dismounted to get over. I didn’t care, because the pain felt good and was at least a distraction from my thoughts.
And despite all these falls, I somehow ended up finishing the race first.
*****
After the race, I felt battered and sore, and I sure as hell would be hurting tomorrow when I woke up. Not just fatigued muscles, but bruises, scrapes, and a couple lacerations that had dripped blood down my calves and into my socks. I didn’t care. I threw my bike into the bed of the truck instead of putting it on the rack. I was about to get in when I saw Chloe.
“Hey,” she said, her voice nervous. “Are you okay?”
My throat felt like it had closed up. “Yeah,” I finally managed to say. “Tough course out there today.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“It looks worse than it actually is.”
“Oh.”
We both stood there, not saying anything. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”
“I know,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you either. I didn’t know you did these things.”
“This is the second time I’ve come across you out with another guy.”
She opened her mouth to say something but then stopped, a confused expression on her face. “Huh? Second time?”
“I saw you at a restaurant with some other guy,” I said, not caring that I was bringing it up now. “I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“I ... I don’t even know who you’re talking about. A guy? When? Where?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “And it really doesn’t even matter. Except that I’m now running into you again, with another guy! Who I happen to know, and who I think is a total douchebag.”
“I didn’t do anything with him,” she said. “It’s not like that.”
She had that hurt expression on her face, the same one the first night I met her when I told her I wasn’t going to give her a tattoo. The thing was, I believed her. But I could also still hear my mother’s voice, insisting how different people like Parker and Chloe, and my father, were from us.
“It’s fine if you do,” I said. “Feel free. Enjoy.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond; I just got in the truck and drove away.
*****
I took a detour on the way home and just ended up driving, the road unfurling in front of me in a straight line. By the time I’d finally made it back onto the Cape, I’d decided I’d just break it off with Chloe. Whatever “it” was. I pulled my phone out of the glove box. I wasn’t going to text or call her now; I would let her know in person. I kept one eye on the road and the other on my phone as I scrolled through the names, looking for Francesca.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chloe
Graham took off before I had the chance to say what I really wanted to. I’d spent the entire duration of the race trying to think of just what the right thing to say would be, because I knew some sort of explanation was in order. Even though nothing had happened between me and Parker, and wasn’t going to.
But I knew the second I saw him by his truck that he wasn’t going to be interested in hearing whatever it was I had to say.
When Parker came over to me, I was still just standing there in the same spot, looking in the direction that Graham’s truck had gone even though it had long disappeared.
“Hey,” Parker said. He’d changed out of his bike clothes and had a polo shirt and a pair of shorts on, but he looked worn out, his hair still slick with sweat, mud spatters dotting his cheeks. “So, how is it you know Graham?”
I turned away and forced a smile. “You know,” I said, “I don’t actually. I don’t really know him at all.”
*****
It seemed as though no one could wait to hear how my outing with Parker had been; on the drive back from the race, my mother kept texting me, asking how it was going, and then Tara got in on the text action, saying that if I got back in time, we should go out to dinner, but not to worry if I was going to be out all night ....
“I’m normally way more energetic after a race,” Parker said, “and I usually like to go swimming or out to eat or whatever, but I am wiped.” He gave me an apologetic smile. “So, you mind if I just drop you off back at your place?”
“That’s totally fine,” I said. He smothered another yawn. “Maybe you should go take a nap. I know if I had to do a race like that, I’d probably sleep for a week. Well, I doubt I’d actually even
be able to finish.”
“You get used to it,” he said. Neither of us had said anything about Graham coming in first. Graham himself didn’t look like he even gave a shit, and he left before the they’d handed out the medals, so the highest step on the podium had been empty. “Although, I’m feeling much less used to it than normal. I swear—I know it probably just sounds like a bunch of lame excuses—but I really am usually feeling so much better after a race.”
My mother was sitting out front in one of the Adirondack chairs, with a glass of iced tea and a book. I was sure to Parker it looked like a completely normal scenario, but she had moved that chair from the backyard to the front, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her sitting outside with a book.
“Oh!” she said, putting the book down and waving.
“Don’t feel like you have to stay and mingle,” I said.
He was already getting out of the car. “I can at least get out and say hello.”
“How was it? Did you have fun? Look at the two of you!” My mother sounded like she was about to burst with excitement.
“Well, it was a rather poor showing on my part,” Parker said. “It certainly wasn’t my best race.”
“That’s okay!” my mother exclaimed. “Why, I’m so impressed that you’re even out there to begin with! Now, how many miles was it?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Now, that is just super human!” She widened her eyes and looked at me. “Could you imagine that, Chloe? Riding a bike for 32 miles? And not just 32 miles, but 32 miles over rough terrain, am I right? It’s not on pavement, now, is it?”
“You’re exactly right,” Parker said, and my mother beamed. I smiled wanly.
“Anyway, Mom, Parker was just saying how tired he is, so he’s going to head home,” I said.
“Oh, really? Would you like to come in first? Have some lemonade?”