Page 20 of Race to Me

Finally, he slows down. His hand goes back to rest on my bare knee, and his head turns to the side. I lift the plastic visor of my helmet, admiring his sharp profile that’s illuminated by the moonlight. The further we get from the city; the more stars twinkle overhead. “I wish you had proper clothes on.” he yells over the rumble of his bike, nodding his head up to the dark sky. Through my lifted visor, a trickle of water hits my nose.

I shout back, “Well, I wish you had a helmet on!”

With a shrug, he picks up pace again. The light sprinkles turn into drops, and the black pavement becomes glossy in no time. The drops turn into a downpour until finally, he pulls over on the side of the street.

The desolate road offers no indication of where we are, and when his headlights go out, the surroundings match his eyes.

I step off the bike, pulling the helmet over my head.

Rain patters down overhead as my eyes adjust to the midnight around us. I look to everything except his obsidian eyes, which stare back at me with anger and worry as he gazes towards the wet road. “I can’t risk it.”

I huff, irritated with him. “Of course you can’t! You weren’t even wearing a helmet.”

He shakes his head, a crooked smile playing on his face as he puts down the foot peg and steps off his bike. “I don’t care about that. It’s legal here. I’m more worried about the roads being slick with you in that outfit.”

I ignore the way his fingers brush against my bare shoulder, then my upper thigh. “I don’t care that it’s legal; it’s stupid.” I start to walk away from him, but I’m too heated. From him telling me I can’t go and him sweeping me away.

But I can’t ignore the pounding in my heart over the fact that I’m with Foster on a dark street, alone. He’s so inviting yet closed off. So warm yet freezing cold. I want to unwrap his layers; to find out the real him. And for some unexplainable reason, I want him to find out mine too.

We’re completely drenched at this point, standing on the side of the road, and no cars have passed by since we parked. “Why did you even care if I went?” I have to holler over the beating rain.

He steps closer to me, tilting his head downward. I cross my arms when his eyes dart further down. I’m only wearing a wet dress which now has suctioned itself to my skin.Wonderful. “Because I told you not to come.”

For the sake of me not sounding like a child, I step closer to him, planting my feet firmly on the ground. “And you can’t tell me what to do.” I shake my head. “You don’t even know me.”

His knuckles tilt my chin up, and I look into his endless eyes. “Why aren’t you with your boyfriend?” Foster questions.

“My boyfriend?”My brows furrow in confusion.

He sighs, biting his lip. “Yeah, remember? You told me you had a boyfriend. Then tonight ... You, Brett ... kissing pictures.”

I can’t help but smile. “Why does it matter if I have a boyfriend?” My voice is low, and I’m not sure if he hears me over the pouring rain.

Foster shakes his head, bringing his hands through his soaked hair. He looks around, scoping out a different location. It looks like the weather isn’t about to clear up. “It doesn’t matter.” His tone oozes boredom, and the way the words roll from his tongue bothers me, reminding me of why I was angry with him in the first place.

“What about your little green girlfriend?” I spit the words out, and for once, I don’t hold back my thoughts. I’m sick of people being mean to me.

“Envy,” He mutters under his breath. He guides me to cover under a large tree.

I scoff, turning away from him. “I am not envious of her.”

With a laugh, he spins me around, whirling me to face him. “It’s her name. Her nickname,” I nod at the realization. The green hair. “And what the fuck did she say to you?”

I shrug, feeling less angry at him since he didn’t know. “I waited for you after school to give you back your jacket.” I retort, my cheeks flushing a bit.

“I wanted you to keep it for the weekend.” he tells me. My heart jumps at his reply. “She must have seen you in it and got jealous.”

“Oh,” is all I say, feeling foolish.

He steps closer, hesitating. “I’m not the type of guy you should be around, Freckles.”

I tilt my chin up. “I don’t care.”

The rain continues to pour, and trickles escape through the thick, twisted branches of our clearing overhead.

I try to speak to mask the rapid beat of my heart, but the thud of water hitting the ground is enough to cover any sound. “We’re going to have to wait the storm out.”

With a glint in his eyes, he asks, “Are you scared to be alone with me, Skyler?”

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