Page 192 of Finding Delaware

“That can be arranged.” Christian turns to call for his little brother, who’s in the middle of lighting another firework. “Yo, Carlos! Where’s your dirtbike? In the garage?”

“Yeah, dumbass.”

“Ah, ah!” His mother sprays him off, too, as he yanks out a few dimes and some lint from his pocket, passing them off to Hannah. The toll was never discussed; she just marched around one day demanding money for bad words, so she got what she got.

A few minutes later, Christian wheels his brother’s bike to the backyard, where a few other ramps are set up while we follow. Before he climbs on, Salem gasps dramatically, falling into manager mode.

“Wait! This is the perfect photo op. Let me grab my camera from my car. I want a shot of both of you in the air while fireworks go off in the background.”

“Aw, come on Sally, no working. It’s a holiday.”

“It’ll only take a sec, quit bitching.”

It did not ‘only take a sec.’

Thirty minutes later, after Christian and I did jumps while Carlos lit fireworks, we were finally back to having fun, switching off as we rotated between doing tricks on the dirt and our old foam pit. Each landing makes me wince with my smarting ass cheek. Devon seems super into it, commenting on our form as Xed slams beer after beer, still hanging off him. Matty doesn’t seem pleased but chills with Hannah and Christian’s sisters, keeping them entertained. Huckslee even gets in on the action, taking a few jumps with a finesse that surprises me, considering he’s pretty rusty. I’d be lying if I said my cock didn’t perk up at the sight of him in a helmet.

“Kinda wanna ride you while you straddle a bike,” I whisper to him after he lands in the parking lot behind the house, and he has to take a moment to get his boner under control.

Everyone begs me to show them the trick I’m doing for the competition next month, even though they saw it at the qualifier, so I give them a show. None of our ramps are high enough for me to do the backflip, and I don’t feel like climbing onto the roof, so I keep it minimal. I can’t fucking wait to show it off to all of them again. Well, other than Huckslee. Because he won’t be here…

The thought drops my mood for the rest of the night.

I do a pretty good job of hiding it for a while, but eventually, Huck catches on because he’s becomeso attuned to me and my emotions. Pulling me aside, he gently grips my chin, lifting my face up to his while he searches my eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

I shrug, smiling sadly up at him. “Just wish you could be here for the competition, that’s all. But I understand why you can’t.”

He exhales slowly, dropping his face to my neck without responding. Christian does a few tricks, drawing hollers from Devon, who convinces my best friend to teach him the basics. All the while, I’m holding Huck and rubbing my palms over his tight back muscles. When he raises his head, he brushes a kiss against the corner of my lips.

“Wanna get out of here?”

His thoughtfulness makes my chest ache.

“Yeah. I wanna show you something.”

We say our goodbyes and slip into the Audi after I hug everyone tight, especially Hannah, because I don’t know when I’ll see her again. I’d like to think I’ll be able to say goodbye next month, but plans don’t always go how they’re supposed to. As we pull away, I give Huck the address to my dad’s old trailer. I need to check on it anyway since I haven’t driven by in a few months, but also because...something in me just wants him to see it. To show him this part of my past.

He eyes the metal arch of Arbitrary Hills as we pass beneath it, pulling into the trailer park slowly because of the speed bumps on the cracked asphalt. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yep. This one on the right.” I point out the trailer, noting the weed-filled yard and tire tracks permanently etched into the dirt from peeling out on my bike as a teen. It looks superrundown, worse than when I was growing up–the front wooden stoop is sagging, the siding is falling off in places, and some shingles are missing from the roof. Out of all the units on the street, mine is definitely the worst.

Unbuckling my seatbelt to get out, I throw Huck a pained grimace. “Come on, let’s make sure no one’s squatting.”

“Do you own this place?” He follows me up to the splintering front door, and I nod as I search through my keys.

“My dad gave it to me in his will. I lived here for a while after he died, but when things started getting bad, and I moved to the city with Christian, I kind of let it fall apart. Can’t decide if I wanna fix it up to sell or rent it out.”

Once the door opens, I flick on the living room light and immediately yelp as a large black ball scurries into the kitchen.

“A fucking raccoon!”

The most unmanly shriek leaves my throat as I jump into Huck’s arms, the vile creature causing chaos as it bounces off the cabinets like a basketball.

Scrambling around Huck’s body, I climb up his back, pointing to the old broom leaning against the closet. “Get it out! Get it out!”

He jumps into action, grabbing the broom and chasing the hissing raccoon all over the living room like a hockey puck, shouting curse words that would probably make his grandma’s hair curl.

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