I swear this bike used to go faster.
There's no way this is the limit. I want more. Ineedmore, fuck. The whole tunnel fills up with the sound of our engines.
It's like riding inside a thunderstorm. Lorenzo's right next to me, trying so hard to overtake me.
Son of a bitch. He's good. But I'm better.
He's even doing tricks with the bike. I lean forward more and push it. Test my limits again. We weave in and out, zigzagging around each other, playing this stupid game of who's going to die first.
He edges closer. I edge closer.
One bad move and we're both on the floor, but that's the point, isn't it? I live for this. For the speed, for the risk.
If this is the limit, I'm going to break it.
Red lights. Yellow lights. Who cares. I'm gone before they decide. If a cop shows up, great. Maybe he'll give me something easier to deal with than whatever the fuck is happening in my head right now.
The wind slaps my face. My eyes sting.
Must be the air. Definitely not almost-tears. I wish I could ride far enough for the rooftop to stop replaying.
The way we laughed together. The way we talked. Why did it have to feel so easy? It felt too easy with him to open up. That's what freaks me out.
I've hooked up with people, I've had flings, I've played the game. I never felt that click.
And I didn't even fuck him.
We just talked. And it felt way more dangerous than any shit I've done in bed.
Part of me wants to scrape my knee on the wall just to feel something sharp and simple. The kind of pain that I understand, the kind of pain that makes total fucking sense.
Pain that doesn't talk back. Pain that doesn't look at me with big green eyes and say, "I'm sorry that happened to you."
I wish I could outrun last night. Leave that rooftop behind me. I hate that it felt that good. I hate that I was so happy after it.
Because I know that I'm not built for that. I'm not the guy who opens up and gets the happy ending.
I am the annoying Ducati guy.
With the fucked-up family.
With a mother who loves her fucking company more than my feelings. A dead dad and a neighborhood that knows my name for all the wrong reasons.
I slam the throttle again. If I don't push Rava away now, he'll realize it later. He'll see how wrong this is for him. How wrong I am. So yeah. Today I kept my distance.
I saw his face when he noticed. He got quiet. Confused.
It hurts.
So now I do what I do best. I ride it off.
Because I'd rather chew myself up than have him do it later.
And thank God I'm not doing it alone.
I've got Lorenzo riding next to me. Lorenzo's the only one who ever kept up. My favorite cousin.
My fucking partner in every crime we never got caught for.
