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“You’re a maniac, Jackson. A fuckingpsychopath!”
“And you’re a fucking menace, Cara. You’ve got a pass right now, but I’m counting down the fucking days until I can slap your ass bloody.”
My face flames red and my body warms with his words, half turned on and half furious. The moisture between my legs wants his breath between my legs, while my head wants to clock him in the face.
My mind is twisted.
“If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d kick your fucking ass.”
He laughs at me.
He laughs at me.
“Pack your bags, Cara. You’re coming to California.” He shifts into reverse and pulls out, turning the corner and going towards Easton’s house.
I stand there, bewildered and fuming.
What the fuck was that?
10
Jackson
Age Fourteen
“Race?” Logan asks, atoothy grin on his goofy ass face.
“Where?” Easton asks, pulling up behind him on his bike.
“Let’s go down the hill by the yellow slide.” He starts doing tricks on his bike around us, and I roll my eyes.
If there was one word I had to use to describe Logan it would be hyper. He’s my best friend, but the kid seriously can go for hours without stopping. His blond hair is overgrown and flops about his head in waves. His constant happiness is a relief from the house I have to go home to at the end of the day.
Easton tones down Logan a little bit. I think without Easton, Logan would literally run up the walls. The kid is ADHD and no one is slowing him down.
“That hill is fucking nuts.”
“Exactly.” Stars dance in his eyes, and I puff out a silent laugh at his joy.
Easton looks at me, eyebrows raised in question.
I shrug.Why not? Nothing else to do.
The hill by the yellow slide is right next to the park. The park sits on top of a hill, and the lumpy, obnoxious hill next to it is half gravel and half dead grass. Biking down it would be stupid, which is exactly where the appeal comes from.
We’re boys, we’re stupid, and we do stupid shit.
We each ride our Mongoose bike with the pegs on the back, brand new and sleek black. Easton’s bike is full black, Logan’s is black and lime green, and mine is black with red. My dad almost wasn’t going to get one for me, except the boys asked their dads in front of mine, so I really had no choice. Then Pops didn’t really have a choice but to agree.
I had a sprained wrist for that mistake.
We start riding through the park to the hill. Across the street sits a playground, outdated and probably not even safe at this point. Doesn’t matter, we still used to play on it all hours of the day. So why we’ve never tried biking down this hill before, I don’t know.
Guess now is better than never.
My legs start to ache by the time I get to the top, and I lungs burn from exertion. I wish I had an A&W to down right about now.
“We racin’?” Logan pedals backwards over and over again, making the gears constantlyclick, click, click.
