“So that’s why you’re topless,” I point out. “Isn’t it too cold to swim?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not for me.”
“Well… whatever… thanks for bringing me here. Why is this even here?”
“Where else am I going to practice?”
“Yeah, you need it,” I joke, making him laugh because we both know he doesn’t need it. He handled my unfamiliar ride like a fucking dream, he made me feel amateur and it’s my fucking bike. “Thanks for the offer.”
“Nash, who’s she?” one of the girls from a small group of friends asks as they make their way over. She sounds curious, not threatened. This is good, I think.
“Just a lost puppy I found in the woods.”
I don’t like that one bit and I let him know I don’t like it with a glare that does nothing to shift his smile.
She struts towards me, legs bared in denim shorts, thick black hair in a ponytail to her mid-back, skin a dark, golden, reddish brown like Nash’s and Nok’s. Her friends stay behind, one of them seems to be recording the others on their rides.
She looks at Nash, a recognizable glint in her eye, disappointment, jealousy, lust. She wants this guy and he just rolled up with me.
I take a step to the side to let her know I’m not interested in him, at all, in any way. I’m just here to ride.
“Can I?” I ask him before I’m forced through introductions I don’t care about.
When he nods, I pull on my helmet and reclaim my scratched bike. I am so looking forward to this.
I do a couple of basic laps, getting used to the terrain before rejoining Nash for a short break.
“Can you mark where I’m at on my phone so I can find my way home?”
“It’s cool,” he says politely, lifting and dropping his shoulders. “I’ll show you.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine on her own, Nash,” the girl puts in, annoyed that his attention isn’t on her.
“Lilith, this is Winona,” Nash states and she holds out her hand.
I show her the dirt splattered on mine and she yanks back her own. Grinning, I wipe mine on my ripped jeans and look at Nash. “You got time for me to squeeze in another two?”
“Go for it, I’m good here.”
Woohoo!
I kick up dirt behind me and hit the first hill, catching air for two seconds before landing it perfectly. Fuck yes.
I hit the next one, going a bit faster this time and catch the air for long enough to do a whip. Then I go around and around, hitting the hills, landing my bike… two perfect runs. On the second run I notice more people have arrived and are watching me sail past the quads and the other pit bike. I love riding, I love trails, it’s the only thing I do these days that is purely for me.
My dad taught me, and he taught me well. So well I out-skilled him by age fourteen.
I skid to a stop in front of Nash, unable to stop the beaming smile from stretching across my face, totally not realizing who he’s standing with.
“That was a killer run,” Nash grins, and Nokosi, who must be his brother, just sneers at me. Nash, noticing his brother’s glare, slings an arm around my leather-clad shoulders. “Don’t mind him, he’s had a stick up his ass for years.”
“It’s really jammed up in there,” I reply, and he laughs.
Nokosi narrows his eyes on me but doesn’t say anything. Likely so he doesn’t look like a bigger ass than he is already.
“So, what brings you to Westoria, Oregon?”
“Mom’s work, as always, we’ll be gone again in a month or so.”
His brows pulled in. “Sounds like hell to me. I’m a homebody, couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”
I shrug my shoulders, not showing that it does affect me, it fucking sucks when I get used to a place and have to leave. “I don’t complain about what I can’t change.”
“That’s smart, peaceful even. Learning to just accept the inevitable instead of trying to fight it.”
Nokosi snorts and I wonder if Nash’s words are also referring to something going on with them.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” I tell him, wanting to get out of here now, get home and eat some grub.
“Yeah, Nash, thanks,” Nokosi grits, putting extra sarcastic emphasis on the thanks.
“I meant when I said you can come here any time; my people won’t mind.”
His people? Is he their chief or something? I doubt it, he’s so young. He must just know them all really well.
“Speak for yourself,” Nokosi adds, glaring at his brother now.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not,” Winona assures me, smiling kindly. “Ignore him.” She shoves Nokosi, or tries to, he doesn’t budge an inch, he’s a solid mass of body and muscle and attitude.
He sneers at me one more time and then walks away, stopping at a quadbike that has been parked haphazardly at the edge of the dirt track.
“It’s not you,” Nash explains.
I raise my brows. “Oh, I don’t care, to be honest. He doesn’t scare me.”
“Good,” Nash replies softly. He smiles gently and taps his knuckles against the helmet that I’m holding under one arm. I’m such a sweaty mess right now. “I’ll let you drive us back, so you get a feel for the way here.”
“You sure I’m okay to come back here?”
“Any time you want, Anetúte…” He sees my confusion at the word. “Meaning my father, will be happy. He wants us to mingle more with you pale faces.”
“Is that why Nokosi is the only native in school?” I had to ask because I’ve wondered about it since I started.
He sighs gravely. “Kind of, Nokosi was made to join Lakeside last year because of his hatred towards your people.”
“Not my people,” I correct, and he smiles again. He has such a nice smile. It’s so calming.
“Anetúte wanted him to learn to love them and forgive them.”
“Forgive them for what?”
He sighs again and looks up at the graying sky. “If only we knew.”
I look over at Nokosi who is riding the quad over a slope. He’s not bad himself, navigating the bike with ease and strength. I can’t help but watch him and wonder why he hates white people so much when, if what Nash is saying is true, he’s been raised to be tolerant despite our history.
I often find that people don’t hate for no reason, if it’s not the way they were raised or the influence of their peers, then it’s usually something in particular that has flipped that switch.
“Just stay away from him and he won’t bother you.”
“Noted.” I climb on the bike before patting the seat like he did to me before. “Thanks for showing me the way back.”
“It’s no problem.”
He climbs on behind me, eliciting cheers from his friends who are supposed to be watching Nokosi. His chest presses against my back and his thighs grip mine.
“Don’t crash, my brain will scramble, and my people will miss me.”
I laugh under my breath. “I’ll do my best.”
We ride forward, him holding on to my waist with a tight arm banding around me, his other hand points to direct us out of the forest and back to the main road.