“Right. Okay,” says Jamie, looking confused by the frosty reception. I’m about to tell him not to worry, because Alex is always like that, when the man in charge of the bikes beckons us all forward and starts explaining that we’ll all have to do a brief trial run to get used to the bikes before we set off. We all gather in a circle to watch hisdemonstration, me positioning myself as far away from both Alex and Jamie as I can manage without it looking weird.
“I can’t believe you, of all people, have got yourself involved in a love triangle,” whispers Chloe, who likes to speak in tabloid headlines whenever she gets the opportunity. “I guess it’s true what they say about it being the quiet ones you have to watch, eh?’
“It’s not a love triangle,” I whisper back, keeping one eye on the instructor. “You heard what Alex said; he doesn’t even think of himself as afriend, let alone one corner of a love triangle.”
Chloe looks at me skeptically, but is prevented from commenting on this by the roar of an engine, as the first member of the group begins his trial. We watch as he steers his bike around the little arena, weaving in and out of the traffic cones, before heading back to the instructor, who gives him a thumbs up, before beckoning the next person forward.
“It looks fairly easy,” I whisper to Chloe, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “Look, even that kid is doing it.”
The child in question passes the short driving test with flying colors: as does Alex, who doesn’t look like he’s ever failed at anything, and then Jamie, who revs the engine on his bike, showing off as he takes a corner much too fast. Chloe whoops with excitement. I can’t see Alex’s expression underneath the safety helmet he’s wearing, but judging by the tense set of his shoulders, he’s not impressed.
Then it’s my turn.
I get cautiously onto the quad bike, and dutifully put on the helmet the instructor hands me, which makes me look like a giant lollipop.
Thirteen-year-old me really didn’t think this through when she put ‘ride a motorcycle’ on her list of resolutions, did she?
I glance over at Chloe, who smirks back at me, as if she’s not going to have to wear an identical one.
“Okay,” says the instructor in heavily accented English. “All you have to do is drive once around the circle. You make the circle, then you come back. Sí?”
“Sí,” I agree, still thinking it doesn’t look too hard. It’s just a bike, after all. EvenIcan ride a bike. This can’t bethatdifferent.
Can it?
The instructor steps back, and I put my foot down on the accelerator pedal, painfully aware of everyone watching me. The bike roars to life, then suddenly shoots forward, crashing into the first of the traffic cones, then taking out the rest of them. They fall like a row of bright orange skittles, only with the kind of sickening crunching noise that suggests I’ll be paying for more than just the day out by the end of this.
Somewhere behind me, I hear Chloe laughing delightedly.
“Oh my God, Summer!” she shrieks. “Whatareyou trying to do?”
My cheeks flaming under the huge helmet, I somehow manage to wrench the handlebars around until the bike is facing in the right direction again, determined to try to get myself back on course.
The bike, however, has other ideas; and as soon as I try to move forward again, it turns to the right instead. Somehow, the handlebars seem to be locked in that position, and the bike starts turning in tight circles, me clinging on helplessly as the faces of the other riders flash by, becoming more blurred with each second that goes by.
“No!” yells the instructor, running towards me. “No! Stop!”
I somehow manage to brake, and sit there queasily, desperately trying to keep my breakfast down as I wait for the man to reach me.
“You have no control,” he blurts, red faced. “None. You need to get off. Now.”
I swallow nervously.
“Wh-what?”
“You cannot ride alone,” the man says sternly. “You will need a partner.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” chuckles Chloe from the sidelines.
“She can come on the back of my bike,” offers Jamie, who’s sitting next to Alex as they wait for everyone else to go through their ‘training’ — if it can be called that.
“Great,” says Chloe. “I’ll go with Alex, then.”
“What?” I say, irrationally horrified by this idea. “Why would you do that? You can ride your own quad bike, surely? It’s just me who’s not allowed.”
“Don’t be silly, Summer,” Chloe snaps. “If you couldn’t do it, I’ve got no chance, have I? Look at me. I’mtiny. AndIwant a partner, too.”
She pouts appealingly, and I glare back at her, wondering how I can stop her ‘partner’ being Alex. Because I know it makes no sense at all, but it’s suddenly of the utmost importance to me that thisnothappen, even if it means I have to insist on ‘partnering’ her myself, and to hell with the ‘no control’ thing.
