Going Full Throttle

Chapter 7 - Tyler's POV

How many tracks had I ridden before?

Hundreds? Thousands?

At least.

I was fourteen the first time I got on a dirt bike. It had been a rust-bucket; an old Yamaha from the 70s. I'd been living in Florida at the time, or maybe it was Texas at that point? Either way, I found it in an old shed and played around until I got it going.

I could still remember the pride and joy I felt when the engine began to squeal. It wasn't a feeling I was used to growing up, but dirt bikes had given it to me.

Dirt bikes had ended up giving me everything. Only a few years later they gave me freedom, money, and friends that were the closest thing I'd ever had to a real family.

Track life was something I'd loved over the years. You could ride to your heart's content over well-groomed jumps. Then grab beer and food, and hang out with the other riders. Plus, there were always Track Snacks hanging around, ready to get with anyone who owned a bike.

It was a good life, but everything gets old eventually.

The last couple years, I had felt out of place at a lot of tracks. I'd been in the professional game for twelve years now. Twenty-eight might be young to the world, but in the motocross world, I was an old fogey.

Or at least, I felt like it.

Riding in O'Hara was different though. This crappy, uneven track was more fun to rip on then any I'd been to recently. It didn't have food, drinks, or girls. Hell, it was just a pile of dirt. Yet somehow, I was fourteen again, happy just to be riding.

Well, it did have girls.

Pia wasn't like the Track Snacks though. The girls who hung around the tracks were always pristine. It was honestly impressive that surrounded by dust and dirt they managed to stay completely clean without a curl in the wrong place.

Then there was this little Bambi. Covered head to toe in dirt, and ripping around on that quad all day like a pro. Somehow though, the dirt just made her smile shine brighter, and her eyes more sparkly.

It was damn annoying how easy she was to look at.

Couldn't say the same for her personality though. I knew I put my foot in my mouth about her friend, but she seemed determined to hate every word that came out of my mouth.

The only time I had felt like we were getting along was when we rode together. Maybe because the engine was too loud for us to talk. I can't say it didn't feel good to have her gripping onto me while we ripped around the track. The musical laughter that came from her every time I sped up or whipped around a corner only encouraged me.

When we'd stopped and taken our helmets off, it felt like a kumbaya moment. She had just looked so damn cute covered in mud with the brightest smile on her face. It was like she was outwardly reflecting how happy I felt on the inside when I rode.

That all slipped away though the second I got Finn on the bike. I could see the distrust and concern in her eyes. She didn't want to let him go with me.

I showed Finn where to grab onto the handles, silently waiting for Pia to step in and take him off the bike. She didn't though, so I locked Finn in with my arms and took off.

I kept our pace slower, not wanting to scare the kid. Not that it seemed to be an issue. I could feel his small body giggling with excitement against my stomach as the engine roared beneath us.

He seemed to share a thirst for adrenaline with his aunty.

We came around the bend and in the distance I could see Pia watching us. Her hands were clasped tightly at her chest, clearly nervous. I figured it was probably best to not push it by taking another lap with Finn.