Asher ✓

26 | valentine

FEBRUARY 14, 2013 / SYMONT PIZZA HUT

The days bled by, and autumn left her three-month spotlight for winter to shine. 

Before long, icing-sugar snow lay on the outside panes of their suburban house. Cheesy advertisements with a smattering of blood-red hearts began infecting Asher's television feed, and 'How To Find The Perfect Valentine's Gift' articles took over every social media outlet Asher used like a gradual decline of standard.

When the bittersweet day finally knocked on Asher's bedroom window with ice-knuckles and cold-sunshine-smiles, it seemed his entire neighbourhood had been bitten by the love bug. And when he wasn't single, Valentine's Day was great; Asher reminisced on the one Valentine's he had spent with Tracey. In any other situation, the holiday was wiled away with action movies, Facebook and enough junk food to drown out the intruding world.

"I can't believe Trav ditched," Ryanel scowled, slumped in their booth at the local pizzeria, referring to the Valentine's Day getaway they had planned — to distract from the loneliness that came with being single.

The boy of topic was Travis Hoegel — a dedicated anti-Valentine's activist until three days ago, when a petite girl with a pixie cut had suddenly taken interest in the shaggy-haired motorcycle rider. 

His attitude changed like a light switch from, "It's just another non-religious West-fabricated holiday to justify extreme advertisement and take economic advantage of lovesick idiots," to, "It's a genuine holiday for people wanting to express their love for someone."

In the minds of Ryanel Gonzales, Asher Delrov, or any of the other boys gathered at the local Pizza Hut, there was no doubt why Travis' opinions had changed so quickly; and all of them were unanimous in what their opinions of Valentine's Day were. (Think pre-girlfriend Travis Hoegel.)

"You can't really blame him," Asher mumbled. "I bet we'd all ditch for food and sex."

Teenage boys regarded those words as gospel; Asher's motorcycle club friends reluctantly regarded it as a half-truth. That Valentine's Day was one of the few times when Asher saw most of friends gathered together. The teenagers had a group chat in which they talked filthily and frequently, but other than that brief contact, Asher saw his motorcycle club friends at motorcycle club, and his school friends at school. It meant that he had to act as a mediator between the two groups, who interacted well enough, but still stayed to their respective sides of Asher's social life.

If Kerrish were here, and not rendezvousing with his girlfriend of one month, he would have calmly cracked one dirty joke, elbowed some guy, and they would all have melted together. In lieu of the social butterfly, Asher had to manage the conversation.

"Peyton," he called one of his motorcycle friends' attention. The teenager had been quite preoccupied with this, "Do you think you're going to enter the competition?"

"Yes," Peyton answered. "If I can scrounge up enough to pay the entry fee."

"What competition is this?" Ryanel queried. Asher rejoiced internally; finally, a conversation topic that left no third wheels.

"It's the Venture Motorcross Event," Peyton explained, waving a slice of Hawaiian pizza in the air. 

"There's heaps of different heats for different age and skill levels, but sir's only letting us," he was referring to the senior group of racers at their club, "participate in the speed run."

Around his own slice of meatlover's, Ryanel commented, "Sounds cool. Can I come watch?"

"Sure," Peyton said. "Asher can get the tickets from sir, right?"

Asher nodded in reply, and turned to ask the fourth member of their usual group of six, Cody, "What about you?"

"Nah," the high school senior sighed. "I need to save up money for college. There's always next year. B'sides, I'll still be there to watch. You?"

Asher cleared his throat, pushing a piece of bacon around his mouth with his tongue. He swallowed, then said, "I don't think I'm good enough yet."

"I thought sir offered you a place on our team," Cody recalled.

Asher told him, "He did," but kept his head as low as his self-esteem.

"Then you're good enough," Cody assured, with a knowledgeable smile.

Peyton said, "Yeah, sir wouldn't offer anyone a place on our relay team if he didn't actually want them competing. Dude, just say yes."

"Fine. Yes," Asher repeated, a giddy smile forming on his lips.

The three boys at their booth cheered, and clinked the rims of their various drinks together in a celebratory toast. The decision had been plaguing Asher for days, since Hershel Donte first offered. Their motorcycle club entered the Venture competition annually, and to be offered an operative place on their representative team — during his first year, no less — was a great honour for Asher.

That night, he didn't worry too much about it. 

First and foremost, their anti-Valentine getaway was waiting to be lived out. Their cheap dinner of pizza and fries disappeared down their gullets, and with building cheer, the boys stumbled out into the cold. Peyton and Cody instantly slung their legs over their motorcycles, that they loved showing off around town, and revved up. Ryanel was reserved to partner with Asher, since their usual cruiser — Kerrish's rustic truck — was otherwise occupied.

The stinging chill of the air was mainly blocked by Asher's riding gear and helmet, but in the thin slits of his visor, some cold managed to make his eyes water. Only following the two figures in front of him, Asher willingly let his friends plan the night. Cody and Peyton were leading the group into the city, which broadened the horizon of opportunity from bowling, or doing other such local pastimes, to street races and concerts and parties.

With the thrill that always overtook him whenever he explored the shaded streets of New York City, Asher let his previous worries about the Venture Event fade to the back of his mind. No doubt, he would revisit that same, paranoid place later.

What a burden to carry, though, if he couldn't prove his talent on the big day.