Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
At long last it was time to go. The coaches split the lines between huddle rooms to review the day’s progress before freeing them to the showers. Jean was clean and gone again before half of the men had finished soaping up, and he waited on the strikers’ row for Jeremy to catch up with him.
The end of practice was lazily chaotic as Trojans drifted around in search of their clothes and keys. They were worn out and ready to be on their way but still half-caught in cheery conversations with one another. Jean closed his eyes and let the noise drive his thoughts far away. The bench shifted now and then as strikers sat to tie their shoes, but Jean waited until he heard Jeremy’s voice before opening his eyes again.
As usual, they were two of the last to leave, since Cat and Laila couldn’t take quick showers if their lives depended on it. The considering looks the women treated Jean to as they headed over made Jean wonder what Jeremy had said to them, but he was used to that lack of filter by now. He didn’t hold it against them; the Ravens hadn’t been particularly good at keeping secrets either, seeing as they were permanently entrenched in each other’s lives.
“Shall we?” Laila asked.
The walk home was quiet, and not quite the comfortable kind. Cat was the first in the door, but she snagged Jean’s sleeve on his way by to stop him. “Hey,” she said, not to him but the others. “Can you two get takeout tonight? Is that okay?”
“Of course,” Laila said.
Cat gave her a quick kiss in gratitude and motioned to Jean. “Wait here.”
Laila and Jeremy exchanged curious looks at Cat headed to her room. Jean heard the rattle of her closet door opening and closing. She was back a minute later, wearing a jacket he only saw on her when she was about to take her bike out. Her gloves were tucked inside the helmet dangling from her fingers, and she caught him by his shoulder to propel him out the door ahead of her. Jean wasn’t sure why she wanted him to see her off, but he watched as she walked her bike to the foot of the driveway.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Jean looked from her to the bike and back again. It had two seats, but there was no way that slim thing was meant to carry two bodies. “Absolutely not.”
She tugged on her helmet and gloves, took the front seat, and turned an expectant look on him. “Chickenshit.”
“Refusal is not unreasonable,” Jean said. “I just got cleared to practice again.”
“I’m not going to crash us.” Cat gave the seat behind her an impatient pat. “Haven’t totaled a bike since I was sixteen.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
There were a million reasons this was a terrible idea, but Jean finally climbed on behind her. She tugged his arms around her waist, said, “Don’t fight me, yeah?” and took off down the road before he had a chance to change his mind.
Jean experienced an immediate and profound sense of regret. The absence of seatbelts and a solid frame to protect them was alarming, and the cars Cat slipped between looked monstrously large from this fragile vantage point. Jean seriously considered climbing off the next time she hit a red light, but he hadn’t quite worked up to it before she pulled into a dealership and parked at the curb.
“This is my uncle’s place,” she said with no little pride, and she sailed through the front door ahead of him. “He’s off today or I’d introduce you, but I’ll bring you back another time for a proper meet-and-greet. Tomás!”
She was off like a shot, rattling away a mile a minute in Spanish to one of the salesmen. Jean followed her around because he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do, and eventually the pair led him over to a section with apparel. Cat snagged two jackets off the shelf, held them up against him in turn, and snapped the tag off one. The tag was turned over to Tomás for safekeeping, and Cat darted away to find a helmet and gloves. Ten minutes later they were out the door again, and Cat pushed the helmet into Jean’s hands.
“Onward!”
Having a bit of gear made Jean feel only marginally safer. He had the fleeting hope that Cat would take them back to the house, but of course she was just getting started. Jean was idly sure she was picking the busiest streets on purpose. The third time a car changed lanes right in front of them like they weren’t even there, Jean decided it was best to just close his eyes until the crash finally came. He didn’t open them again until Cat whooped triumph ahead of him, and Jean looked up as they took one last turn to merge onto the Pacific Coast Highway.