“Hi, Chris.”
I see Mr. Page’s face as I’m just finishing gassing up the motorcycle, and a feeling of guilt tears through me. I can see his truck behind him at another pump, and I just know that Kelsey’s sitting in the passenger seat. Sitting and watching. Wondering whatever happened after I last saw her at prom, after our dance to the last song of the night.
“New bike?” he asks me as he admires it.
“Uh, it was a gift,” I say.
“Wow. Some gift. How’s your summer going?”
“Good.” I can’t exactly see into the truck, but I just know—I have a feeling—
“Kelsey just left for Florida to visit her cousin. She’ll be there a couple of weeks.”
I hear the phew go off inside my head.
“Sounds like fun,” I say.
“Yeah. She begged me, and her cousin came up here last summer, so we decided she could do it.”
I think of the couple of times she’s called and left messages. Of that last message still on our answering machine at home. Asking me to call, telling me to call soon if I can.
“Everything all right?” Mr. Page asks me.
Both of Kelsey’s parents are just plain nice. No wonder she’s such a sweet girl.
And no wonder she needs to stay far away from your life.
“Yeah. Everything’s great.”
“Maybe we’ll see you sometime this summer. We’d love to have you over for dinner again.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say with a forced smile and interest.
If it’s up to me, I won’t go.
Nothing against Kelsey, or Mr. Page, or their nice little family. It’s just—that’s not for me. I don’t belong in that picture.
I belong in another picture. Rated R for violence and horror. The kind where kids get killed off one by one.
I mount my bike and try to start it up. For some reason, it won’t go.
I try again. And again.
I glance over at Mr. Page, who’s smiling at me.
I feel like such a tool.
Finally, after a few more tries, I start it up. I wave to him and take off down the road, not really sure where I’m headed but just getting away from the niceness of that man and his family and especially his daughter, who I’ve been avoiding thinking about because it’s easier that way.
I ride for a while, getting out of the town limits of Solitary. Sometimes it seems the farther I drive the easier it is not to think about everything. But today, it all comes back. Maybe it’s because I saw Mr. Page and was reminded that just because I’m not answering doesn’t mean they’re not out there.
If I close my eyes and think about it, I can still picture Kelsey’s glance while we danced at prom. I can still remember feeling lost and free. Of course, I can’t shut my eyes at this very moment, or I’d probably end up wrapped around a tree in the woods I’m passing. Maybe that’s another reason I like this bike. No time to daydream.
Then I think of Poe, of her telling me not to bother stopping by to say good-bye. Of her telling me that she’ll contact me at some point down the road. But every day I don’t hear anything, and I wonder when exactly “down the road” is going to be. Will I end up at a nursing home one day and see her sitting across from me in a wheelchair?
Think you’ll live long enough to see a retirement home?
The whole Poe-Kelsey thing that happened last semester—I still don’t know how to make sense of any of it. There was never supposed to be a Poe-Kelsey thing to start with. It kinda creeped up on me, and then when I realized it, the mouth of the beast swallowed me in. Things got too dark too fast for there to ever be Team Poe shirts and Team Kelsey pages.
This reminds me of my current predicament. No, not predicament. Situation.
The latest pretty girl I can’t stop thinking about.
The road winds around, and I keep going faster, trying to outrun reason. I’m getting the hang of riding this motorcycle even if I don’t have a license and don’t know exactly why I was given the bike in the first place.
I’m trying not to think so much these days. But I’m not doing that great a job.