“The infamous development,” I tease.
“I’m sure you heard about it.”
“I heard you ruffled a few feathers by asking the Amish to build it and not the Sandersons.”
“Like they would have taken on the job anyway,” he grumbles. “Home, sweet home,” he muses as we glide by.
Jinx continues until we reach the end of the road, the dirt spreading out into a small turnaround area before the overgrown grass verge takes over.
“Interesting choice of location.” From what I remember, there’s nothing down here but the river.
“Fit for purpose.” He puts the bike on its stand, then dismounts to tug his helmet off.
I do the same, accepting his hand to balance me when I dismount, too.
“Just leave it on the seat,” he says, gesturing to the helmet before hanging his own on the bars. “It’ll be fine.”
“Okey dokey.”
Jinx hesitates, eyes lighting up with a slight smile, before he turns and scours the roadside. “This way.”
We head for a small walking track, crushed into the overgrown grass, that appears to lead down to the riverbank. Sure enough, a few minutes later, we pop out onto a stony crescent moon-shaped clearing on the bank of the Fox River, trees arching overhead.
Jinx stares across to the opposite bank, arms folded over his chest.
He doesn’t speak. Just stares off into nothing as I stand beside him and wonder what I’m supposed to do now.
“Hear that?” he finally asks.
“What?”
“Exactly.”
The gentle rush of water over stones accompanies the swish of foliage and the occasional chorus from newly active crickets. It’s tranquil.
“I’m surprised I can’t hear your club.”
Jinx turns his head to look down at me. “Did you expect burnouts and hollering twenty-four seven?”
I shrug. “Wouldn’t have batted an eye if there was.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He bends to retrieve a stone and then tosses it into the river with a plunk.
“So, ah, what are we here for?”
“To get rid of your mask once and for all.”
Poof.My good mood dissipates.Fuck’s sake.“What makes you think I have one on?”
He turns to meet my frustrated stare. “Tell your dad where you were headed just now?”
My nostrils flare, jaw aching from the pressure of my clenched teeth.
“There,” he states, eyes narrowing. “That’s why.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Because, instead of letting your reaction—your emotions—out, you suppress them.”
