I rejoined them with my hair looking slightly disheveled but other than that, none the worse for wear. Except filled with utter defeat.

“Did you see the ride?” One of his buddies asked me.

Lips tight and arms crossed over my chest I nodded. “I saw enough.”

“To know you lost?” One danced backward. Pointing and taunting. I picked up a pebble and pinged it off his forehead.

He paused to frown. Grumbling as he rubbed the tiny pink welt.

“Anything more to say?” I gave them all a challenging look.

“Oh, yeah…” Eric stepped forward. Giving me a long look from head to toe. “I got all kinds of things to say to my slave for a weak.”

“What do you want me to do?” I rolled my eyes as I held my hand out for his helmet.

He slapped his hand in and mockingly shook it while he grinned at me. “Not so fast, there Sweetheart. I get to pick the week.”

I frowned at him. “Meaning what?”

“Next week.” He nodded. Lifting his pointed chin and square jaw while looking at me down his nose.

“Whatever.” I shrugged. Shaking my head as I sullenly walked back to his car.

I climbed in and waited for him. It wasn’t long before he hopped in after me. I set my backpack between my feet on the floorboard and kneaded the strap between my fingertips as I replayed the race in my mind. Trying to figure out how he’d managed to beat me.

Again.

***

Eric told his friends bye and eventually slid in next to me. Firing the Camaro to life and expertly maneuvering through the traffic out onto the pavement where he sped up.

Well above the speed limit.

And my mom and his dad think he’s some sort of angel. Without realizing it, I’d begun glaring at his profile.

He glanced at me a couple times but avoided meeting my look. Instead, he was noting me kneading my backpack strap in my lap in annoyance.

“Pretty upset, huh?” He dared break the silence.

“Wouldn’t you have been if you lost?”

“Nah.” He looked back through the windshield. “My pride would’ve been a little squashed, but I’d have done what you asked. Even fix that stupid car you’re always yammering on about.”

“It’s a Nova, Eric.” I said as if that should explain my deep fascination with it. My dad had, had one when I was super young and some of my first memories were riding with him in that car. And it was the one he was still driving right before he had his heart attack.

Just looking at a Nova makes me feel closer to him.

Eric of all people, despite that I hated to admit it, should know that.

If he wasn’t such an asshole, he might even care.

“How’d you know I was upset, anyway?” I asked acidly.

“You’re quiet. You never go this long without insulting me. And you keep messing with your backpack. Nice fingernails by the way.” He added annoyingly.

I glanced down and flexed the fingers on one hand. My nail polish was deep purple but chipped everywhere because I’d only painted them because I was bored and hadn’t bothered to redo it.

“You know, most real girls, keep up on that stuff.”

I scoffed. “You mean most of your girls.”

He chuckled. “Just how many do you think I have.”

“I’ve heard the stories.” I stared out the window. Not particularly inclined to discuss that topic any further.

“I did ask you first if you recall. You had your chance.” He remarked coldly. Staring out the windshield.

I glanced at him and noticed that his usual joking smile was gone. Probably in reaction to my open animosity.

“Oh, you mean when you used to knock over my lunch tray?” I asked sharply.

“Yes.” He looked at me. “We were in middle school. What else would that mean?”

“Very funny, Eric.” I went back to staring out the window. Unwilling to engage in banter with him right now.

I can’t believe I lost.

***

After a long silence, we were just about to roll back into town when he looked at me and asked directly something I hadn’t expected.

“So…Guess you didn’t lose on purpose to see where I’d go with the bet, then huh?”

I scowled at him. “Lose the bet on purpose?”

“The race.” He said blandly. Going back to staring out the windshield.

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Allie Kat.”

“What?”

“You really need me to lay it out for you?” He rested his wrist atop the steering wheel as he stared at me pointedly.

My stomach was starting to drop. Oh, God. He can’t know. If he knows he’ll use that to blackmail me forever.

“Wh-what?”

“Fine.” His mouth went tight, and he looked back at the road. “For starters, your chain. Which you’ve worn as long as I can remember…Has your lucky blue rock on it. Which, if you recall, I originally gave you-”

“When we were eight!”

“Still. Gave it to you. She wears that same chain in her pocket. Has the key to her bike.”

Tomboy. He does know. Without realizing it, I was suddenly ducking my head like a turtle and sinking further into the seat.

“You’re not making any sense!” I blustered.

He scoffed and didn’t bother to look at me. “Next is the fact that when we left to go to the track you had a helmet in your backpack. I slapped it to check.” He paused to glance at me. “You honestly think I don’t know that sound?”

“Plus,” He continued. Furthering my dread to brand new, fun levels. “I shook her hand after I won to see if she was wearing that same immaculate purple polish you are…”

Fuuuck. I stared at my hands. Brown eyes huge in horror. And the grimace visibly twisting my features.

“Besides…I know how you ride. I’ve always known it was you.”

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