The Sandcast, baby.
The world’s first true superbike, featuring a 736cc transverse inline-four engine, front disc brake, and electric start. She has 68 horsepower and a top speed exceeding 120 mph.
I’m hard right now.
Not only that, it’s one of the first 7,000 ever produced, and it’s in pristine condition. It has to be worth nearly $120,000.
When the owner rolled it in, a collector from the rich side of town, and asked if I had the parts it needed, I practically screamed yes.
I don’t, though.
I just wanted to touch it. But now I have to find a carburetor, because that’s what it needs. The only person in Belmont who might have a part this rare is Hal McGinty, who lives acrossfrom the old elementary school.
When I stop my bike in front of his place, I see a black Bentley in the school parking lot.
What in the hell is a Bentley doing here?
I walk over, examining the car, because I just can’t help myself, when I hear a commotion at the school. The double doors swing open and—
Oh no.
Felix exits with a security detail and a slew of kids surrounding him. They’re waving goodbye, and a little girl rushes over to Felix and tugs on his shirt.
Security swoops in, but Felix waves them off. He crouches to speak to the little girl, and she hands him a piece of paper folded in half. It looks like a card, maybe?
He presses the card to his chest, a warm smile stretches across his face, and then he hugs the little girl.
I’m glued to the spot, watching Felix take his time with her. He jokes, laughing and making her giggle and hop around. Other kids swoop in, and soon, Felix is making funny faces and gestures. The kids cackle and beg for more.
Felix is—
Perfect.
My chest aches as I watch him.
He’s so good with the kids. More of them approach, and he takes his time with each one.
There’s something so unique about Felix—almost nostalgic. He makes me feel like I did before—
He’s looking at me. He sees me.
Fuck!
I must have been in a daze or something because I didn’t even notice when he stopped playing with the kids. I run asfast as I can to my bike.
“Torren!” I hear him scream.
God damnit! I’m such an idiot.I leap onto my bike and speed away.
Why did I do that? I’ve been trying to push him away, and now he’s seen me creeping on him like a weirdo.
I get back to the shop and blow right past Gabriel, making a beeline to the bathroom. The cold water against my face does nothing to calm my racing heart. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t see myself. I see a 17-year-old Torren covered in blood, reeling from what he’s just done.
My eyes close, and I breathe in through my nose and out my mouth. When I reopen my eyes, I see myself. The blood is gone…
But I still hate what I see.
Because Felix Hargrove deserves better than this.
