This Prom Queen is winning out of spite.
Since the dawn of internet video, the AV Club of Van Buren High has hosted a reality show for twenty lucky seniors to compete for the coveted titles of Prom King and Queen. Self-imposed social outcast, Aspen...
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By Friday evening, I was a mess of nerves as I wondered how we ever stood a chance in this race. Ky had already claimed the Neon, and even Asher had been laughing about how little a chance his Corolla stood. It was hopeless. I could see it now, us dropping from the top five, because we didn't have a cool enough ride to show off and gain popularity points.
I sat on my front porch, picking at the loose strings on my shorts while I waited to be picked up. The sound of the roaring engine echoing off the trees arrived before Asher did. My attention snapped to the road, where a slick, black sport bike came into view and stopped out front of my house.
Asher pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair. Taking a look at me, he said, "You might want to change into something warmer."
Saucer-eyed and slack jawed, I approached the motorcycle that creaked as the metal cooled.
"Where did you get this?" I asked.
"Pulled some strings and managed to borrow it from Finn for the evening. Don't worry, I promise I know how to drive it." Pointing back at my house, he said, "Now, come on. Throw on some jeans and a jacket. You'll freeze on the back of this thing."
I met him in a few minutes, where he offered me a matching black helmet. As I fiddled with the straps, I asked him, "How fast can this thing go?"
"Probably best if you didn't know," he replied. He reached over and took the straps from my fingers, assisting me in getting them tightened. "If you're worried about being able to beat Ben's fancy Mustang, don't. He might have power, but we're going to be lighter and able to cut around corners easier." Lightly slapping the side of my helmet, he asked, "That thing on tight?"
"Good to go."
Asher swung his leg over the bike and pulled it upright. The seat was barely big enough for both of us. I hugged his body for stability, my head resting on his shoulder.
He turned towards me. "A few ground rules before we take off: you need to hold on tight, and you need to lean into turns. If we want to do this, we have to work like a well-oiled machine. Got it?"
"I'll get the hang of it on the ride over," I promised. "You're not going to kill us, right?"
"Absolutely not. But I make no promises about making you scream." He pulled back on the handlebar, making the engine roar. "You ready?"
I squeezed my arms around him, a pang of butterflies rushing through me. This was thrilling. I could only imagine all the ways this was going to help our game. Maybe Hailey had done me a favor by picking Asher.
"Hell yeah!"
Asher put the bike in gear, and we sailed off. We gained speed, the pavement rushing by terrifyingly close. I held on for dear life. Was it possible to fall off one of these?
The only sounds I could hear were the engine and the wind. I inhaled the fresh, evening air, scented by the farmlands. Cars and houses existed if only for a second as we whizzed by. I could feel every move he made. The way his chest rose and fell with every breath. Every muscle under his worn t-shirt.
