Page 16 of Frosty the Biker

I pointed at her, then pointed at me, and motioned like I was putting a backpack on. Then I pointed at my bike.

“Ride with you? Hell no. This is fun and all, but I don’t know you and I’m not stupid,” she replied with a shake of her head.

I slouched and dropped my hands so my arms dangled dejectedly.

“Nice try.” She smirked, but she got to her feet and grabbed her helmet.

Near panic hit me because I didn’t want her to go. I motioned for her to stop. Then I mimed out pleading before I pointed at the twenty-four-hour diner attached to the gas station. There was a scrawny Christmas tree in the window that had definitely seen better days. It still flashed valiantly with its multi-colored little lights.

She appeared to consider. I thought she was going to say yes. Instead, she pulled her helmet on, then her gloves, and got on her bike. I didn’t need to pretend that time, I watched her start her bike with a heavy sadness eating at me.

Color me shocked when she pulled away and over to a parking spot in front of the diner. She got off the bike removed her helmet again and walked inside. She sat at a table and looked out the window at me as a waitress set two menus down at her table. It was her turn to gesture a “well?”

I wasted no time moving my bike and heading inside. Though I knew this would end very soon, I insanely wanted to steal every moment I could with this carefree, fun version of the angry woman I’d seen earlier today.

An old-fashioned bell jingled as I pushed open the door. In three strides I was at her table and sitting down. I set my gloves to the side.

The waitress brought her a mug of what appeared to be hot chocolate. Then she looked at me, propped her hands on her hips, and raised an eyebrow at me.

I pointed at Ryian’s cup.

The waitress rolled her eyes and walked off.

I crossed my arms and rested them on the table.

Ryian gave me a stare that screamedreally?

Happily, I bobbled my helmet back and forth, imitating a bobble-head doll.

“Okay, biker boy, take off the helmet.” She reached up and removed the skull cap she was wearing, setting free a cascade of brunette waves that I had to clench my hands not to reach out to touch.

Said helmet fell forward in defeat as I realized the gig was up.Dammit.

Slowly, I unfastened the chin strap as she ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it a bit. Then I lifted the helmet at a snail’s pace. The waitress set my mug in front of me, but I doubted I’d be drinking it.

When I pulled the helmet off, I did it with my head tipped down so it covered my face initially. Finally, I set it to the side and looked up.

Her smile instantly vanished, and she gathered her shit and started to get up.

I grabbed her arm, halting her.

“Is this some kind of fucking joke to you?” she practically snarled through clenched teeth.

“No. Not at all. Please… just give me five minutes,” I pleaded. “Five minutes and you can leave if you still want to.”

Her nostrils flared in irritation, and she jerked her arm free.

Defeat weighed heavy on my shoulders.

She sat back down with a huff. Then she withdrew her phone from her inside pocket and set the timer. “You have five minutes.”

“Ryian, I’m sorry. I swear to you, I didn’t know. I was hurt and angry that you left for no reason, and I decided to cut all ties with this place and the memories associated with it. I got drunk one night and threw my phone in the river. Then I packed my shit and moved to Montana. Dean had moved up there after high school. He asked me to come up and apprentice under him, so I did. Then I made a clean break with my past by deleting my email, my social media, everything,” I explained in a rush.

“No. Reason?” she bit out. “No. Reason?” she repeated in a louder tone.

It made me look around to see if anyone heard her or if we were causing a scene. The waitress was oblivious, watching an old Christmas movie on the TV. No one else was in the restaurant except for an old man with a bushy white beard, a red sweatshirt, and glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read from a paper. I wanted to laugh but it wasn’t appropriate at that time.

“Then tell me,” I begged. “Why did you leave? I thought we discussed the lipstick thing. That was the only disagreement we’d had. I don’t understand.”

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