Cycling Downhill: A Sweet Young Adult Romance (Love is a Triathlon Book 3)

by Chrissy Q Martin

  I’m torn. I feel for Tara because she’s crushed on Dylan forever, but at the same time, this feels like redemption. Then my compassionate side circles around and makes me feel like a horrible person for thinking this is revenge back in Tara’s face.

  “Great.” Tara’s faking her smile now, and I can tell she wants to leave. “Well, we’ll catch you all another time.”

  Bridgette and Tara hightail it away, with a few glances over their shoulders at us. I guess Tara isn’t going to try and get on Taylor’s and my good side any longer.

  I untangle myself from Taylor and Nora, and wedge myself between Dylan and Sabrina, wrapping my arms around them. “I love you two,” I say. “You’re the best fake couple ever.”

  Dylan’s body stiffens while Sabrina breaks into laughter. “Fake dating is so much fun,” she says.

  “I don’t know about that,” Taylor says with a side glance at me. “But you guys pull it off well.”

  I release my hold on the two fake lovebirds and look at Taylor. “We should expect bad things from Tara come Monday.”

  “Come on, Dylan,” Taylor says and slugs him in the arm. “Why’d you have to get so good looking, have every girl crush on you, and then have them hate us because we know you?”

  “It’s my curse,” Dylan answers and then does his smoldering look.

  I only cover a laugh as Taylor does a double take at Dylan. She’s not quite sure why he’s looking at her like that. I cling to Taylor’s arm now. “It helps to laugh when he does that ridiculous look,” I tell her. “Don’t let him pull you in with all his Dylanie charm.”

  “I thought you wanted me to be more Dylanie.” Dylan smirks at me.

  “It doesn’t mean you can do it on unsuspecting people,” I tell Dylan. “You confuse them.”

  Taylor raises her black eyebrows at me, and her lips are pursed together. “You want him to be more Dylanie?”

  I shake my head while rolling my eyes. “It’s just Dylan. It’s what he does best.”

  “You two really are friends, aren’t you?” Taylor looks genuinely surprised.

  Dylan and I laugh. I guess we are an odd pair.

  “Alright!” Nora takes charge. “Let’s go check out and get this party started.”

  “Party?” I ask. I didn’t want a party.

  “Small celebration,” Nora clarifies. “It’s just us. This group.” She waves her hand around at the people I’m closest with from different walks of my life. It’s only missing one person, the person I miss the most.

  NINETEEN

  “I’m not sure I’m going to like this as much as our regular jellybean tasting.” I eye the Beanboozled jellybean game Taylor bought for my birthday. We’re at Nora’s house, assembled around a circular coffee table.

  “It’ll be fun,” Nora says. “It’s about time you get a bad jellybean flavor. You always get the good ones.”

  “That’s because I like most of them, and you’re picky,” I say back to my best friend.

  “You and Dylan go first,” Nora says.

  Dylan gives the spinner a push and we watch the arrow go around and around. “This reminds me of playing spin the bottle in middle school,” he says.

  “Never played it,” I say watching the spinner slow down. I haven’t changed much since middle school. I still don’t go to parties.

  “You could get a bad kiss or a good one,” Dylan says. “Not much different with the jellybeans.”

  “Would you rather play spin the bottle?” Nora asks with a wink.

  “No,” I answer quick and watch where the spinner lands. It points my direction. “After you,” I say to Dylan and try not to think about him kissing me if we were playing spin the bottle.

  Dylan takes a jellybean from the rotten egg or buttered popcorn pile and I grab one too. We pop them in our mouths at the same time. My jellybean is only in my mouth for half a second before I spit it out. Dylan chews on his like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

  I scrunch my face up. “Gross. That was not good.” The others are in stitches of laughter, and we’ve only played one round. “I hope you all get the bad ones too,” I say, wanting to rub my tongue free of the horrible taste.

  Nora and Nick take a turn, and then Sabrina and Taylor, before it comes back to Dylan and me. I spin this time and it lands on birthday cake or dirty dishwater. Dylan takes a jellybean and holds it out to me. I touch mine to his like we’re toasting.

  “Here’s hoping you get the cake, birthday girl,” Dylan says and pops it in his mouth.

  I toss mine in and scrunch my face up. “Ew. Not cake.”

  Everyone laughs and I can’t help but join in.

  When it comes to our turn again, Dylan spins and it lands on chocolate pudding or canned dog food. I hesitate before I pick one up. “I’m so scared,” I say. “I have a feeling I’m going to get another bad one.”

  Dylan holds his out to me. “Wanna trade?”

  “I swear,” I say, “if you get a good one again, I’m going to…I don’t even know what I’m going to do other than be mad.”

  “You don’t get mad.” Dylan throws the jellybean in his mouth, as I roll my eyes. I do get mad. I just don’t hold a grudge. He’s evidence of that. “Mm.” Dylan puts on a pleasurable face. “Chocolate pudding.”

  I wrinkle my nose and sniff the jellybean in my fingers. It doesn’t smell like anything, but the moment I put it in my mouth, I spit it out. “No!” I yell over the laughs. “Why do I always get the bad ones?”

  Some of the others have gotten bad ones, but not every time like I have. When it comes around to our turn again, I spin and land on spoiled milk or coconut. Dylan picks up a jellybean and I hold my hand out to him. “You have to give me that.” I wiggle my fingers at him.

  “Only because it’s your birthday and you like coconut.” Dylan hands the one he picked out over to me and takes another jellybean from the pile.

  Everyone watches me as I slowly put the jellybean in my mouth. My lips pucker and I swallow the jellybean, but the terrible taste remains in my mouth. “Hand me that bag of normal jellybeans,” I say. Sabrina tosses them to me. “I’ll watch you all play and I’ll eat my good ones. It’s my birthday.”

  “Anyone have spring break plans?” Sabrina asks as the game continues.

  I eat my tasty jellybeans, trying to rid my mouth of the horrid taste in it. Spring break is in a week, and while quite a few seniors from my school are going on so-called epic spring break beach trips, I’m not. I have no plans, but it seems I’m not the only one without plans. No one in this group has vacation destinations, which I find odd.

  “We should do something,” Taylor says after eating a dead fish flavored jellybean. “At least for a couple of days.” She’s much better at handling the nasty flavors than I am.

  “Like what? Camping?” I ask. “My vacation budget is fairly small.”

  “How about my family’s cabin?” Dylan says it like he’s offering us a drink of water. “I’m pretty sure my mom will let us stay there for a couple of nights.”

  “Where’s it at?” Nora asks.

  “On Lake Superior, in Wisconsin,” Dylan says.

  There’s a collective dropping of everyone’s jaws.

  “Heck, yeah!” Sabrina exclaims. “I’m invited, right? Since you’re my fake boyfriend and all?”

  “We’ll just keep it to us,” Dylan says. “I’m still on probation with my parents, but if Ashley is going, I know my mom will be all for it.”

  Everyone looks at me, as if I’m the deciding factor in this plan. I pop a jellybean in my mouth. “Finally,” I say. “Coconut.” I relish the flavor, it’s so much better than spoiled milk.

  “What do you think, Ash?” Nora asks. “Do you wanna do it?”

  “I’ll have to ask my mom,” I say. “But fine, as long as you bring good jellybeans this time.”


  “I’ll make sure to have lots for you.” Dylan smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back as the girls erupt into squeals of joy. Now if I can only convince my mom to let me take a trip with this group.

  Dylan gives me a ride home from Nora’s. It’s nearly midnight when he pulls his car into the driveway at my house. I expect him to put the car in park, and I’ll get out, but he shuts the engine off. He turns his body and reaches for something in the back of the car, and my mind flashbacks to our first date, or whatever it was. I had turned to the backseat to grab my swim bag and when I turned forward, Dylan turned at the same time. I wasn’t sure if we missed a kiss or what happened, but we knocked heads and I ran into the house. I know a kiss isn’t going to happen this time.

  “I have a birthday present for you.” Dylan turns forward and holds out a gift bag. “I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone else.”

  “Thank you.” I take the bag. I can’t see Dylan’s face well in the dark, but I think it’s coated in a bashful look. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “I feel like I owe you.”

  I hold the bag in my hands. It feels heavier than it really is. “You don’t owe me. You’ve been a good friend when I needed one.”

  “A friend with benefits?” Dylan asks. He uses his Dylanie voice, and it’s a flirty one. He’s joking with me, and I can’t help but crack a smile.

  “Not those benefits.” I smack his thigh with the back of my hand. “But it’s a benefit to have a friend with a cabin for spring break.”

  “Don’t forget to ask your mom and let us all know.”

  “I won’t.” I bite my lip. I’m not sure why I’m so unsure about asking my mom. I hold up the gift bag in my hand. “Should I open this now?”

  “I know you hate opening things in front of people.” Dylan’s voice is low, almost soothing. “Open it later.”

  A tremor runs through me, a rush of electricity from understanding, and a compulsion to do something comes over me. “Look forward,” I tell Dylan.

  Even in the dark, his beautiful eyes have a glint in them. “Why?”

  “Just do it,” I say. “And don’t move.”

  Dylan does what I tell him. I lean over, smelling his familiar scent, and place a small kiss on his cheek. His stubble brushes against my lips, sending another tremor of familiarity through me.

  When I sit back, Dylan looks at me. His face is still, and his eyes wide. “What was that for?”

  “A friendly kiss on the cheek to thank you. I didn’t want you misinterpreting it as friends with benefits and conking heads with me.” A small, embarrassed laugh slips out. I can’t believe I kissed him on the cheek, but he’s been so sweet to me. He really is a good substitute best friend.

  Dylan laughs, his face relaxing. “I said you could initiate the kisses. You get to be the benefits advisor. Any other benefits you want to peruse?” His voice is back to the teasing one.

  “Good night, Dylan.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and push open the door.

  “Happy birthday, Ashley.”

  TWENTY

  I get around to talking to Mom the next day. Sometimes I can be the queen of procrastination, but I shouldn’t procrastinate on this too long since there’s only a week of school left before spring break.

  “Hey, Mom?” I ask while I help her make dinner. It’s taken me all day to get up the nerve to ask. I’m not sure how she feels about me taking off for a few days with a group that includes boys. I have a feeling she’s going to say no when everyone is relying on me to be the one to get the ball rolling. I wonder if they would go without me.

  “What is it, Ash?” Mom asks. She cuts some green pepper for the homemade pizza we’re making.

  “For spring break, the group wants to go to Dylan’s cabin for a few days.” I swallow hard. I’m putting sauce on the pizza, but I keep drawing circles in it with the back of a spoon on the crust. “I was wondering if I could go.”

  “And by group you mean…” Mom stops cutting and looks at me.

  “The ones who celebrated my birthday with me. Sabrina, Taylor, Nora, Nick, and Dylan.”

  Mom goes back to cutting, the knife making loud sounds as it chops through the pepper and hits the cutting board. “You’re an adult now. It should be fine. When do you plan to go?”

  Adult. That sounds so…adult. I don’t feel like an adult.

  “We’ll leave next Monday and come back Thursday.” I place the spoon in the sink, and head to the refrigerator to find the mozzarella cheese.

  “Okay. Sounds like a fun time.”

  I sprinkle some cheese on the pizza. This conversation has been way easier than I imagined it going. “What about Jacob?”

  “I know,” Mom says. “Where is that kid? How does he always disappear when it’s time to help?” Mom yells for Jacob.

  “No,” I say. “I mean, what about Jacob over spring break? He’ll be stuck here all day by himself while you’re at work.”

  Mom stands next to me and tosses some of the cut pepper on top of the cheese. “Don’t worry about him. The kid’s got more friends than he knows what to do with. He’ll find some way to stay entertained.”

  Mom yells for Jacob one more time before turning back to me. “I heard some of the parents talking about prom. Are you going this year?”

  I didn’t go to junior prom last year and the senior prom is the last thing I want to think about right now. “It’s still two months away,” I say.

  “And Ash doesn’t have anyone to go with.” Jacob pops in the room, grabs a pepperoni from the bag on the counter, and throws it in his mouth.

  “She’s got her group,” Mom says. “They could all go together. They’re going away for spring break.”

  Jacob’s hand freezes in front of his face with another piece of pepperoni. “Hold on. Ash is doing what?”

  I sit on my bed after dinner, reading a text from Dylan. It arrived while I was eating pizza with my family and I’m only getting to it now.

  Dylan: My mom wants to talk to U

  Me: Sounds like I’m in trouble

  While I wait for Dylan to text back, I run a finger across the gift he gave me for my birthday. I opened it the moment I got to my room after he dropped me off. It’s a beautiful journal, covered in the softest brown leather with thin straps to tie around it. My name, Ashley Stampford, is engraved on the front. Of course, Dylan would put the name only he calls me on it. He even included fun pens in different colors and a sticker set with affirmative sayings like “Make Today Amazing and “Be Happy”. My heart still melts at the thoughtful gift when I see it.

  Dylan: U never cause trouble. She only wants to make sure you’re going on Monday

  Me: Tell her to call me

  Dylan: U can come over

  Me: Aren’t you tired of me yet? You saw me last night, or rather this morning

  Dylan: Aren’t U tired of me?

  Me: Always. You’re exhausting. I fall asleep every time I’m with you

  Dylan: haha

  Me: I need to finish homework. You’ll distract me. Tell her to call me

  Dylan: I hear I’m the best at distraction

  Me: You’re a jerk

  Dylan: Sorry

  I frown at the phone. It’s difficult to tell through a text if someone is joking or not. I was trying to joke, and I think Dylan is too, but he did distract me first trimester, and the results weren’t what I planned. The phone in my hand vibrates, rings, and shows Dylan’s profile.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hi, Ash. It’s Maureen,” Dylan’s mom says over the phone. “How are you doing?”

  We do the back and forth pleasantries while I sit on my bed and cross my legs under me. She even wishes me a happy birthday.

  “Dylan asked me if he could use the cabin this week,” Mrs. Arnold says.
“Are you going to be there?”

  “Yes,” I say. “My mom said I could go.” Perhaps adding that bit in will help convince Mrs. Arnold, she sounds a little unsure.

  “I just don’t want him jumping off the deep end again,” Mrs. Arnold says, and I detect the concern in her voice. “He’s been doing so good, but we also haven’t loosened his restrictions much.”

  I hear Dylan in the background groan. “Mom!”

  “I trust him,” I say. “It’ll just be the six of us, and if they invited me, they know it’s going to be a tame week.”

  There’s a relieved sigh over the phone. “That makes me feel better. I want to see you all before you leave, okay?”

  “Okay,” I say. “It’s a deal. Thank you.”

  I get a text from Dylan later.

  Dylan: Thank U

  Me: Guess you owe me now

  Dylan: Friends with benefits?

  I laugh and turn my phone screen off. If I respond, Dylan will be sure to get the last word in. I’ll let it be this…Friends with benefits. It makes me wonder how tame this spring break really is going to be.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “What’re you doing for spring break?” Paul asks me on Monday in calculus. I keep my eyes on my notebook and wrinkle my nose.

  “I…” I pause, searching for the right thing to say. How do I keep moving forward when I keep looking backward at my time with Paul?

  “Because I’m not going anywhere, and if you’re home, maybe we could get together and work on the project. We could start some of the bike testing.” Paul talks fast in his quiet voice, like he’s nervous to ask me. It’s endearing and my heart starts to flutter, like a flag blowing in the breeze. Maybe the winds have changed, and this is our way back to each other.

  I tilt my head and glance at Paul through my eyelashes, before returning my focus to the paper. I can play hard to get. “I’m busy during the week, but I’ll be around both weekends,” I say. I envision us working on the project, having Paul realize he’s made a mistake breaking up with me, and then boom…we’re back together and headed on a date. It’s a hopeful plan.