Pieces of You(10)

My nerves are zinging with the anticipation of today’s meeting as I descend the steps in the lecture hall, holding my breath as I squeeze past a girl wearing too much Chanel perfume. As I make it into the corridor, the thumping of my heartbeat in my ears drowns out the sounds of students clamoring around me to get out of the lecture hall. I see Chris leaning up against the wall next to an announcement board and just the sight of him calms me a little.

He’s wearing sunglasses and his head is tucked down as he thumb-types on his phone. I can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy as I wonder who he’s texting, if he’s even texting anyone. He could be looking up driving directions for all I know.

It’s actually more likely that he’s just trying to keep his head down to keep from being recognized, and he seems to be doing a good job. He’s wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt that covers his tattoos and perfectly distressed designer jeans. He looks up when I’m a few feet away, as though he can sense me. His lips curl into a smile and I have to remind myself of all the ways we’ve hurt each other so I don’t melt in the middle of the corridor.

“Hey, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe.”

“Hey, baby.” I storm past him and he chuckles as he catches up to me. “I’m just teasing you. Give me your backpack.”

“I can carry my backpack. I do it every day without you and I’ve managed not to keel over yet.”

“Have it your way, sis.”

“Ew. Don’t call me that either.”

He slips his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans where he just tucked it away a few seconds ago. I can’t help but glance at the screen and I see the notification that he has two new text messages. I stare straight ahead to avoid bumping into anything as we descend the steps out of Philips Hall toward Cameron Avenue.

“Where did you park?” I ask, trying not to sound too annoyed that he has his face buried in a text conversation.

He finishes typing and sends the message before he looks up and glances around. “Oh, fuck. We need to turn around. I parked behind the annex.”

By the time we make it to the parking lot, he’s already received and responded to three more text messages and attempted to make small talk about my statistics class. I don’t think I can be any more annoyed with him until I see the motorcycle with two helmets hanging from the locked seat compartment.

“You expect me to go to an important meeting like this with helmet hair?”

“We have two hours before the meeting. We’re going home to get my car first and you can freshen up over there.”

Home. It’s such a small detail amongst everything he just said, but it means so much.

“Why didn’t you just come in your car? Why do we have to make an extra stop?” I ask as he unlocks the seat compartment and pulls the helmet strap off the hook. If Adam were to find out that Chris picked me up today on his motorcycle, he would hate Chris even more.

He hands me the helmet and I’m grateful he hasn’t tried to put it on me.

“Because I can’t bring my car here. It’s too fucking obvious and I’m trying not to get noticed.”

I tighten the straps on my backpack before I take the white helmet from him. It’s the helmet he bought me two years ago. It still has the sparkly pink Roxy heart sticker on the back. I tighten the strap under my chin and he can’t resist double-checking that it’s tight enough. I step back so he can’t touch me with his hot fingertips, calloused from years of strumming those steel guitar strings.

He smiles as he shakes his head. “Just trying to keep you safe.”

He secures his helmet and climbs onto the bike. Just looking at him on the bike brings back so many memories. Good memories. I bite my lip as I climb on behind him and slide my arms high around his waist so they’re almost over his chest. He grabs my hands and slides them lower.

“Sorry, but I’m going to suffocate if you hold onto me like that.”

“Just go.”

This isn’t his old bike. His old bike was blue. This bike is silver and looks as if it cost more than my entire UNC tuition. He pumps the throttle and I feel the vibration of the engine murmuring between my legs. I squeeze my eyes shut and loosen my arms a little as I try to block out the memory of the time we had sex on his blue bike.

He rolls slowly out of the parking space and I tighten my arms around him. I know Chris and he loves to scare me whenever I’m riding with him. As expected, he accelerates quickly as soon as we hit the highway and my stomach flips as the inertia pulls me back. He leans forward and I have to lean with him as I hug him tightly, my heart pounding as I try not to lose my grip.