“What’s on your mind?” Maggie asks.
“A friend gave me a ticket to the motocross race this afternoon.”
“You should go,” she encourages. “It will do you good.”
“I guess,” I say, hesitant.
She wraps an arm around my shoulder and steers me towards the door. “Go, have fun, enjoy yourself. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
I laugh softly. “It’s very hard to say no when you’re pushing me out the door.”
She spins me around, kissing my head. “I’m always for you being here and helping, but it’s a day off. Enjoy it.”
“All right,” I say, leaning in to hug her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye sweetie.”
Well, here goes.
CHAPTER 3
AVERY
The crowd is huge as I push through it, trying to find a seat. I finally get one on the grass beside the track. I’ve got a good view. I pull out a packet of chips and place them in my lap, and then I open my can of soda. I very rarely allow myself treats such as these, purely because I’m on quite a strict diet with dancing, and therefore there’s not a lot of room for extras.
I pop a chip into my mouth and moan. Diet or not, they’re my weakness.
I watch as bikes begin roaring around the track to warm up. I stretch my neck to see better and I recognize Nate right away. He’s got the number seventy-three on his bike and across his backside in bold letters is “Nathaniel”. I grin, enjoying the fact that he’s got it right on his ass. His gear is blue and his bike is a bright yellow and black. He skids around the track with ease, kicking up dirt as he goes.
When they’re done, I watch them all line up on top of a large slope. I clap loudly with the other watchers and when the race begins, I get to my feet. Nate is the first to hit the corner, skidding around it with perfection. When he reaches the tabletop, a flat jump, he revs his bike, soaring over it with ease. He lands with a bounce and puts his hand in the air. People roar and cheer. I join in, enjoying how it makes me feel to yell so loudly.
He reaches a set of woops, a line of tiny bumps in the ground, and he powers forward. He moves his backside over the back mudguard of his bike and pulls it flat, tearing over them. I clap loudly, cheering him on with the hundreds of other admirers, including the group of girls in front of me, screaming his name. He makes it around another two corners in front of the group. That’s when he reaches the triple jump.
I watch with my hand pressed to my mouth as he speeds up, launching off and flying a distance that I am almost sure he won’t make. He does—landing with ease. The crowd goes wild, and I get an intense adrenaline rush that spreads through my body. When the race is finished, my heart is pounding and I feel exhilarated in a way I’ve never felt outside of my dancing.
I get to my feet and make my way towards the line of people wanting to get out. They’ve also put the food stands nearby, so it’s not easy to leave without getting trapped in a food line. With a sigh, I patiently wait as the crowd moves out. Most of them stay behind for the live music, food and alcohol but I’ve no one to stay with so I feel out of place sitting by myself. The race was amazing, but it’s time for me to go.
“Hey.”
“Oh, it’s Nate!” a group of girls scream just as a hand goes around my upper arm.
I turn to see Nate wearing everything but his helmet. Holy wow. He is breathtaking. His skin has a sprinkle of dirt scattered on it, and his clothes give him a rugged, extremely attractive look that has my skin prickling. His hair is messy from being trapped under his helmet. It looks . . . great. He smiles at me, and I smile back, still feeling quite thrilled.
“You did really good,” I yell over the crowd.
“Nate, sign my boobs!” a girl says, jumping in front of me and exposing a good amount of her flesh.
Nate takes the pen she thrusts at him, quickly signs and then pulls me towards him. “Why are you leaving?”
“I had no one to talk to,” I say.
“You’ve got me. Come on, I’ll show you my bike.”
I don’t protest; instead, I let him take me through the crowd until we reach a fence. There are guards lining it, and the moment he nods at them, they let him through. Finally we’re away from the fans and wild crowds. I sigh. “Wow, they’re a little crazy, aren’t they?”
He laughs. “People get motorcycle mad. It’s hard not to.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I say, falling in step beside him. “I’ve never been on one.”
He stops and turns to me, gaping. “You’ve never been on a bike?”
I flush, shaking my head. “No, I’m too much of a girl.”