Page 13 of See Her

“I know, but I struggle with that part. You know, writing when I have nothing to write about.”

I wonder if that’s how Jack feels, trying to write songs. My job is easy; I write what I’m told to write about.I want to do something creative, express myself with words the way I do with dance, and even better, get paid for it.I’ve bought a journal, because as my mom says, it’s one of the rules of thumb for writers.But it feels all kinds of awkward to sit down with it when I have nothing to say.

“Well, if that’s the case, you simply write, ‘I have nothing to write about’, and go from there. Maybe write why that frustrates you,” she says, pouring little pools of batter onto the griddle. I’ve learned that, too. I just don’t see how that leads to getting one’s creative energy to flow. I know she’s right because that’s what I was taught while getting my writing degree. It was just the one basic principle I couldn’t latch on to.This whole subject is so frustrating, and I steer the conversation to much safer waters – like how much of a dingbat my brother is.

Later, after cleanup, I’m still feeling small laces of frustration when my phone goes off in my back pocket. After temporarily forgetting about being gaga over a guy, I casually reach for it, only to have a zing shoot up my spine when I see Jack’s name lighting up my screen.

An hour later, I find myself leaning back against the brick wall of The Cedar, my old leather jacket draped over my arm, trying to relax. As I wait here where Jack asked me to meet him, I’m stressing about how my feelings seem to once again be running away with me, but I’m quickly distracted by the thundering sound of a motorcycle approaching.I turn towards the back parking lot’s street entrance to see a classic Harley pull in, its rider dressed in faded jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a well-worn leather jacket.It stops about ten feet away from me, and the rider cuts the engine. He takes his black helmet off to reveal rock star bangs hanging in front of dark blue eyes, and a smile that just won’t quit when he turns his head in my direction.

“You have a Harley?” I ask, approaching Jack as he dismounts the bike, setting his helmet on the seat.

“Eh,” he says, sliding his hands in his back pockets and shrugging.“It’s my dad’s.He’s had it forever and I’ve always loved it. I do regular maintenance on it for him and he occasionally lets me take it out in exchange.”

Okay. Let’s take stock for a moment. I’ve been stewing this whole last hour about how I’m in danger of getting in too deep with this guy, and then he rolls up on a motorcycle, looking all badass and dangerous.

I see what you’re doing, universe. You’re fucking with me. Well played.

And not only that, he works on it for his dad, like a good son.The hits just keep on coming.

“So,” he says, bringing me back to the now. “Have you ever ridden?”

“A few times,” I answer, sweeping my hand at the bike, which for the most part is black on black with a few chrome embellishments. “My dad has one, too. He doesn’t go out on it a whole lot anymore.”

“Nice. Sounds like they’d get on great.”

Is he talking about our dads one day meeting? The concept both thrills and scares the shit out of me. I’ve only known him a few days, and yet I already know I would take all he had to give. And when he says something like that, that hints at the future, it’s all I can do to keep it from messing with me.

“Do you want to go for a ride with me? It’s beautiful out,” he says, gesturing around us. It’s sunny in the 70s, with only a slight breeze. But get on a motorcycle with someone I’ve just met? I’d have to be crazy.

“Yeah.” I’m giggling with excitement like an idiot. Turns out, I’m certifiable.

“Alriiight,” he draws the word out enthusiastically as he turns to pull another helmet out of a saddle bag.

7

JACK

“Where are we going?” she asks, as I place her helmet down on the seat and take her bag from her to stash it in the saddle bag.

“How about the Riverfront? There’s a nice stretch of road, and we could grab lunch or a beer somewhere.”

“Sounds like fun. Let’s do it.”

She’s excited. If she’s at all nervous, she doesn’t show it, and it’s amazing.Some chicks are scared of bikes. Not that I’ve taken any out on the Harley; Mayzie’s the first. I guess that makes this just as special for me as I was intending it to be for her.

She slips on her jacket and zips it up, and I have to say, this look on her is hot.She’s got a sexy duality of badass and girl-next-door going on. In two seconds, she went from looking soft and feminine in a white top with her hair down and loose, to hardcore and cute, as she ties her gorgeous hair back in a knot and reaches for the helmet I’m holding out to her. I throw mine back on and fasten it before hopping back on the bike. She climbs on, her knees just grazing either side of my waist. This is the most we’ve touched since shaking hands, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a fun, but painful ride.

“Alright, hold on to me,” I say to her, meaning it in more ways than one, as I start up the bike and it rumbles to life.

Mayzie

I love this.The loud puttering of the bike’s motor, the scenery whipping by us, the thrill of the speed, the… guy… between my legs… Okay, since you can see my mind going there, I’m just going to say that the vibrations of the Harley and the breeze blowing Jack’s scent on me is not boding well for my panties. I think tonight I might have to get reacquainted with my vibrator, Johnny Rocket.Anyway…

Besides all that, this is exciting and fun, and watching Jack operate this piece of machinery is yet another impressive thing about him.We make our way through town to start at the bottom of the Riverfront and work our way up it.When we get to the north end, we park the bike and start leisurely walking, stopping for a beer and fries at one point.

I’m enjoying myself and trying not to worry about where this is going, or at least not bring it up. I’ve seen it happen too many times where a girl asks that forbidden question and the guy freaks out, thinking she’s demanding commitment.I don’t know Jack well enough yet to know if he’d react like that.

All I know is that taking me for a ride on a motorcycle is definitely something no other guy has done with me before. It was fun and exhilarating, and in a strange way, intimate. It’s not something I’ll ever forget, whatever may happen.

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