“No, your directions were really good. Thank you for that.”

He nods a few times, stopping when he nears the edge of his yard. “I’m glad. That family could use someone like you.”

His comment catches me off guard. Someone like me? How does he have any idea who I am? Or if I can offer the family any benefit?

“I’ve known the family for years,” he continues, reading the confusion on my face. “You’re what they’ve been needing.”

“As long as they don’t need to eat.”

He laughs, resting his hand on his thigh covered in worn denim. “It’s not their stomachs that need fed; it’s their souls.”

I feel like I’m fourteen years old, caught with the indecision of making an inappropriate joke or asking if he’s crazy. I strike out both options, knowing that neither is going to make me look like I’m a positive influence on the family, and try to stop looking so alarmed. Smiling would be good, but trying to hold back how bizarre I find this man is difficult enough.

His lips slide slowly up his face, pronouncing defined laugh lines that look well used. “Have a good day.” He dips his chin, as if granting me the escape I’ve been searching for. I return the gesture and continue, my pace slightly quicker as I wonder who this man is and if he truly knows the family.

The bus ride home goes too fast. I’m lost in a trance of tipped up lips, shadowed eyes, and a scar that stretches across several knuckles. My materials are tossed in my bag haphazardly to not miss getting off at my stop, and on the way down the aisle, I pass each passenger, seeing only their hands in an attempt to bury the image I’ve been working to create.

MY PHONE buzzes just after 9:30 p.m. as I’m sketching a face I haven’t drawn before: Summer. I’m not sure why I’m drawing her, but I welcome the fact that it’s not King. I release a heavy sigh as I reach for my phone, anticipating seeing a message from Kenzie. Instead, it’s a picture message from Mercedes holding up a paper with a picture of a bike and a giant grin.

I’m now convinced I need to draw all night because tomorrow at this time, I’m going to be in a full body cast.

“HEY, LAUREN! Ready for your first ride in the shop?” I look to Summer as I enter the kitchen, still in the midst of taking off my coat and setting my bag down. She’s standing beside Parker and a guy I’ve met on a few occasions named Dustin.

“Thanks for the invite, but I have to see where Mercedes is first.”

“Squirt’s already in there,” Dustin calls.

I’m grateful they’re too far away to hear the loud sigh that accompanies my steps off the porch following their wake. The last thing I want to do is go into the shop. Actually, the last thing I want to do is go in there and ride a bike. Deals with ten-year-olds should never be made.

“We have to take it easy on her. She’s a Mary.” Summer’s light brown eyes are taunting me, waiting for me to initiate in some sort of verbal fight that I don’t doubt she’d consider making physical.

“You’ve never been on a bike?” Parker’s surprise is evident with his tone. “Like ever?”

“I rode a few weeks ago, but before that it had been a while,” I explain, purposefully trailing behind them in hopes that they’ll exclude me from conversation.

Parker seems to realize the gap and stops until I’m beside him, then slides an arm around my shoulders. I know the gesture is meant to be friendly and inclusive, but it pulls my hair and makes the idea of doing this even less inviting when I know they’re all going to be paying attention to me.

The shop is huge, likely as many square feet as the house. It’s difficult for me to focus on any one object because there are so many things in the space that make my heart race with unease.

“Let’s get you a helmet first.” Summer moves to a cabinet against the wall and opens two doors, exposing shelves of helmets. “You kind of have a big head, so let’s try this one.”

No one laughs or comments on her words that strike me as an insult but sound almost factual, making me feel self-conscious as I reach out to accept it. Sadly, it fits like a glove.

“Lo!” Mercedes’ tires stop inches from me, making my heart slam against my chest. “I’m so excited for you to finally try it!”

“You should probably start off with just getting comfortable on the bike again. Find your footing and timing,” Parker says, placing a hand back on my shoulder.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to scare you.” Summer looks away as she fastens her helmet in place, which only makes her taunt that much more annoying. If you’re going to deliver an insult, at least have the decency to serve it with eye contact.

My palms are itchy with sweat as I climb onto the bike Parker and Dustin picked out for me. It’s black and has a sequence of numbers and letters along both sides that mean nothing to me. The seat feels too small; in fact, everything about this bike feels too small, making me once again feel all too aware of my size.

“Alright, this is easy. You’ll remember everything with a few spins around the place,” Parker assures me.

I notice Summer watching me as she mounts her bike, and then it’s me watching her as she rides to the edge of a steep ramp and disappears for a second before becoming airborne on the opposite side. It causes an ugly feeling of envy to swirl around in my gut.

My feet push forward and the bike wavers almost violently as I begin, but it quickly becomes steadier, almost easy as I continue. The air in the shop is held at a temperature far cooler than the house, but it doesn’t take long before it feels too warm and I stop to remove my sweater.

“Ready to try the small ramp?” I turn to Dustin with my eyebrows rising, making my helmet slide up.

“That’s not a good idea. This is her first day back on a bike, and look at the shoes she’s wearing.” I don’t know whether I want to thank Parker or refute his words because they make Summer and Dustin both laugh.

“She’ll be fine.” Summer makes eye contact with me, her chin tilted and eyes narrowed with calculation. “Unless you’re not up for it.” And apparently challenging.

I realize as I’m moving toward the ramp that I should have conceded to Summer. She’s likely seeing this as me accepting a challenge much larger than this moment. Something that says I want to compete for Kashton since it’s obvious she has feelings for him and is concerned about my relationship with him. I send a curse to my older brother and Kenzie for always making me feel like I need to prove myself, and then push my weight forward, triggering the bicycle’s mechanisms to roll down the incline.

“Remember, just don’t squeeze the brakes too hard!” Parker’s advice is the last thing I consciously think of. The air whips across my face, and the exhilaration seems to fast forward the entire event until my shin painfully knocks against the pedal and I land on the other side, where I tentatively squeeze the brakes to a stop. The shop erupts in cheers and whistles that echo with the high ceilings.

“You have to do it again! The first time goes so fast, you don’t get to appreciate it!” Dustin’s words are so true it’s almost frightening to know that I have just experienced something they know so well.

“You were made for this shit!” Parker calls, riding along the outer rim to join me. “That was perfection! You looked like a natural.”

My eyes feel too wide as I follow him to where Dustin and Summer are standing at the beginning of the small ramp, their bikes lined up like a voting panel with Mercedes behind them.

“What’s going on?” We all turn toward the entrance to see King. I first notice that he’s wearing board shorts even though it’s nearly freezing outside. Then I see his grimace, which is becoming more prominent as he approaches us.