The Summer Deal

Fourteen - Dora the Explorer

"What the flying crap is that?"

Noah removed his shades, displeased as if I had just insulted a member of his family. "What? You don't like it?"

I cringed. "What's there to like in this piece of junk?"

"Don't be so rude, Sarah." Noah scolded, reminding me of our first conversation back in the hotel's lobby. "I fixed her myself."

The motorcycle looked as if it belonged to a dead man. Despite a new set of wheels and a well-oiled engine, the model was old. Extremely old. Older than my grandma's grave. And she died very young, so that's older than the average mortality of a human. 

"Are you sure you were not trying to sell it?" I asked, carefully poking my finger on its seat, afraid it might break into pieces. "You might get some good cash if this junk comes under antiques."

"Now you're just hurting my feelings," he shook his head, sighing in disappointment. "Nothing new here. The bike's mine. I bought it with my own money when I was eighteen. Babysitting always pays well. Why would I sell it?"

"There's no force on this earth that will make me sit on a 30-year-old junk."

"A 30-year-old—what?"

"My God. It's older than that, isn't it?"

"Of course not!"

"Riiiiiiight," I drawled out, scrunching my pierced nose. "This junk looks like it's about to fall apart. I'm not going anywhere with this. I'll fetch us a car from the hotel's rental service. I have free access to it."

"Will you stop calling her junk? She has a name. It's Dora." He then laughed softly. "It was actually named by—"

"Of course, you have a name for it," I whined, rolling my eyes. We were standing outside, right under the sun, and I could feel my face turning as red as a tomato due to long exposure. I was never a summer-loving girl. "Noah, can you take your Dora back to where it came from? I'd really like to leave this place."

Noah's permanent frown deepened. "I was hoping we could take her out for a ride to the zoo. Dora's in perfect working condition, and I know I did a good job fixing her up."

"I'm not sitting on that." I declared. "I'd rather walk or cancel my plans and stay in my room than go anywhere with that old, crappy piece of..." The look on Noah's face made me nearly regret my next choice of words. "... Dora. She's old and rusted. She might break down in the middle of the road."

"Trust me. She won't."

"I don't, and she will."

"Alright then. Let's make a deal," Noah took out two helmets from under the seat and shoved one into my arms. "If my bike stops working anywhere anytime, I'll crawl on all fours, and you can sit on my back for the rest of the journey."

I raised an eyebrow, not amused by his gambling. "That's a lot of confidence you have in yourself."

"I told you, I'm good at fixing things."

My lips pressed into a thin line. "And what if it doesn't?"

"Hmm..." Noah thought for a moment, then wore his helmet, buckling its strap. "Then you'll tell me why you didn't show up at the party."

"There's no need for that. That stupid masseuse took a lot of time."

"No. I was waiting for you, Sarah. I was there. You were not. You didn't even apologize. If you had just shown up, last night would have never happened."

Something stuttered in my chest, and I swallowed, trying to shake that feeling off. "I was. Like always, you must have been too blind to see it. You should get your eyes checked. I'll pay for it because it will be of great help to both of us."