My Best Friend's Sister

Chapter 2: It's not a date.

Catching it, I said with a frown, “You’re not serious.”

 “What?” she said inoccently, cracking a smile.

“I’m not wearing a pink helmet. Give me yours.” She had a sleek, shiny red one--made for me--that I know she chose to wear on purpose.  

She batted my hand away. “Real men, Jake, wear pink.”

“So it’s like that?” I said, face flat.

“Hop on, lollipop; haven’t got all day.” she said, patting the space behind her with a smirk.

Reluctantly, I shoved on the helmet and climbed onto the bike.

“Right, now hold my torso.” she instructed.

“Here?”

“Close, but no; those are my breasts. Lower.”

I did so. “Here?”

She stiffened all over. “Jake...don't.”

“Max, I’m just joking--”

“—do it properly!” she snapped. It was a joke!

Grinning, I wrapped my arms around her small waist. Nice. She felt good against me. It was cheesy to think that we were like two puzzle pieces that fit, but it was true. I honestly didn’t get why she dissed me all the time when I tried to flirt. I mean, she must like me, right, after that make out session last night? And it’s clear I like her—what’s the problem?

“Where we going?” I asked.

“It’s a hot day, how ‘bout the beach?”

Two “friends” on a day out at the beach? “Sounds good.”

“It’s not a date.” she reminded quickly.

“Okay...” I said, but the signs she was giving me disagreed with her statement.

“Hold tight.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

She started the engine and we shot through London like a breeze.

“WHOOOO!!” she shouted, revving the engine more and more. It was kind of scary that she was driving. I mean, there was a point where I just hid my face in her shoulder (not because I was scared or anything—I just was...feeling bike...sick).

The scenery changed about half an hour into the journey. The glistening sea came into sight, the fair, the arcades lined up on the other side of the main road and of course there was food. Lots of it. Fish ‘n’ chips by the sea were the best.  We must have had the same idea because Maxine parked her bike near a small Fish ‘n’ Chips restaurant on the pier.

 She pushed off her red helmet. Her hair was in a  bun with a few strands hanging loose down the back.  “Can I have my body back now?” she said to me.

I realised my arms were wrapped quite firmly around her and quickly let go. “Sorry,” I chuckled, taking off my helmet.

She climbed off first. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

I’m a real man; I don’t get scared. “Babe, you couldn’t scare me if you had the Predator next to the Alien next to Jigsaw.”

 “Darn it. I’ll have to try harder then.” she said, then looked behind her for something. “Feeling hungry?”

“Well, I haven’t eaten yet, so yeah.”

“Cool.” she smiled. I didn’t know what to do with the helmet. “You can just drop that here on the handle; I trust no one will steal them.” she told me.