Bumps In The Road / Paul Lahote

51. Her Past

"I want to know what happened during your ‘fearless phase’" he admitted quietly looking me in the eye. My brows knitted together and I slightly shook my head. 

"Paul, you don't want to know" I mumbled, putting the ltter back in the envelope carefully. 

"But I want to know what happened. I want to know what you were like, how you felt, what you did. I want to know" he repeated lifting my chin with his finger so my eyes met his. 

"Are you sure?" I asked searching his eyes for hesitation. But I couldn't find it in his eyes, or feelings. 

"Yes," he nodded confidently, "I want to know". I sighed. He really wanted to know. 

"It all started when my dad died, when I was thirteen. I was angry and didn't know how to control the anger, which is until I got in trouble with the cops for the first time..."

"Kira! Get back into the house! You have homework to complete!" My mother yelled after me. I continued to walk to the shed like the stubborn thirteen year old I am. 

"I finished it already" I lied over my shoulder and completed the combination of the lock that protects the shed from being trespassed. I opened the shed and froze. It was his bike. I frowned feeling my eyes glisten at the sight. I thought I moved it out? After my dad...passed on...I moved his bike unable to face it. I barely completed the task because I broke down in tears half way of pushing the bike out. 

"A friend moved it back in. Said it was better in the shed, better protected in here" my mother’s voice said from behind me softly. I quickly wiped my eyes and held back the sniffle. 

"I don't want to see it" I protested moving into the shed and taking hold of the large Honda's handlebars. I put the stand up and began pushing it backwards. 

"Kira," my mother said. "Stop". She walked forward and reached for the handlebars to take from my grasp. I pulled the heavy bike closer to me and glared at her. 

"Don't touch his bike" I warned coldly. She never liked motorbikes. Why does she want to touch them now? Why now, after he...left. She doesn't get the right to, it's not fair. My eyes glistened over again and I sniffled trying to hold back the tear that was ready to drop. 

"Kira, leave it and come inside. We can watch a movie or I'll help you with your homework" she suggested. I shook my head and put the stand down on the bike. 

"No, I don't want to watch a movie or do homework. I am wasting my time—my life doing that" I said letting the bike lean onto the stand and moved to my own bike. I pushed it out of the shed my mother watching furiously. 

"Kira don't you dare start that bike up" she warned, changing from a soft tone in her voice to a harsh and demanding. I ignored her and started the bike, the four stroke roared to life. I put it on the stand and went back into the shed and took my black helmet. I pulled it over my head and looked at the pink helmet my dad got me a few months ago. I reached forward and grabbed a pair of goggles and gloves and pulled them both on. I walked out and over to my bike despite my mothers pleads. I mounted the bike and took off. 

"Not that way!" I heard my mother yell. I turned out of the long driveway and onto the quiet rode. I opened the throttle and flew down the street. I usually just ride on my farm with my friend Will, but I wanted something different today and the open road seemed different enough for me.

A sudden siren made me slow down. I looked over my shoulder and cursed when I saw the blue and red flashing lights. I stopped and dismounted my bike. A male police officer ran out of the car and over to me while the other female officer followed in suit, but to my bike and taking hold of it.