Chapter 21
INDIA
Riding a motorcycle is like nothing else. It’s speed and wind and freedom and possibility —because if I have the ability to fly down the road like this, then surely I can do anything. Maybe it speaks to some ancient part of my humanity, the part that values being able to escape from predators. But something about being able to move so fast makes me feel at ease.
Like no matter how bad life gets, if all else fails, I can still run away.
It’s stupid, maybe. Because my life isn’t bad, and I have no plans to run anywhere. But those are the feelings that engulf me when I’m riding. It’s a temporary reprieve from my mind, the chance to just exist.
I took Betsy on not one, not two, but three test drives earlier. The first probably couldn’t even be called a drive; really it was just me sitting in the seat, feeling the engine rumble, reminding myself of how the bike felt beneath me. But I thought baby steps would probably be helpful, and they were. I was a little wobbly getting out of the driveway the first time I actually started driving her, but that lasted maybe thirty seconds.
People say riding a bike is a skill you never lose. I’m lucky—I wasn’t away long enough to lose my ability to ride Betsy, either. And it’s euphoric, reuniting with her again. It’s sunshine and fresh air and everything I love. If I hadn’t gotten a good cry in the other day, I might even have teared up when I got back in the saddle.
Riding with someone else, however? That’s not quite the same.
The only person who ever rides with me is Aurora. Juliet is too scared, and honestly, I don’t want her screaming her head off in my ear the whole time anyway. Stella refused to ever ride with me because she thinks motorcycles are death traps.
I’ve never ridden with a guy before, and definitely not one like Felix.
Felix is tall and broad and he smells good, like eucalyptus, and I failed to take these things into account before I asked him to come on a ride with me.
I am now paying the price. His body is curved around mine, his arms banded around me, and I am annoyed. I’m annoyed because the whole point of this outing was to see the aspens turning, and all I can seem to focus on is stupid Felix Caine on the back of my stupid motorcycle. I’m hyperaware of everywhere our bodies are touching, completely and idiotically fascinated by the muscles I can feel in his arms, wondering how it feels for him to be holding me like this.
Why did I think this was a good idea? Just because I promised him he could come with me last time I mentioned it? I’ve broken promises before. I could have broken that one too. And then I would have some peace.
Also, he’s warm. So warm. Or maybe I’m the one who’s warm—either way, I’m gross and sweaty in my helmet, and I probably stink.
Good, my mind throws out savagely. Get a whiff of him, too, and see how bad he smells. Then stop thinking about him like you’re a teenager all over again.
That’s absolutely right. He’s not a god. He’s not some incredibly amazing man. He’s just Felix, normal old Felix, and I got over him a long time ago. There is no need to be feeling attraction or fondness or affection now. Be friends with him while he finishes up his article, and then bid him farewell.
I imagine my weird feelings for him flying away as I ride, sending my worries into the sky like a bird being let out of its cage. I try to release them just like that—I’ve been holding them close, without even realizing, because normal old Felix is still unique and great and joyful to be around. I don’t know if it works, but the visual does help me let go for a moment and be present in my surroundings.
The dense forest lining the road is deep and green and inviting, even when I keep my eyes ahead of me. I haven’t seen much of the changing aspens yet, but now I try to pay more attention. It occurs to me, almost too late, that we’re currently on the same path that leads to Crow Point; I wasn’t consciously heading there, but part of me must have gone that direction anyway.
Crow Point is not a good idea. So I take the right fork instead of the left when the opportunity arises, a road that hugs the mountain from a different angle. Felix never speaks up behind me—although what would he say?—but he doesn’t have to talk for his presence to loom. Even as I try to get out of my head, I’m still aware of his frame curved around mine, his fingers digging ever so slightly into my stomach where he’s holding onto me.
As we rise in elevation, I start to see clumps of changing aspens, and I smile. There aren’t many of them, but even the few are gorgeous. We continue to climb, winding and turning, until finally we reach an outlook point. This one is clearly less popular than Crow Point, maybe because the view is more subtle, but my heart sings with relief when we arrive.
I need some space. I need to breathe.
And maybe Felix can tell, because as soon as we park next to an ancient picnic table, his arms disappear from around me. It wouldn’t necessarily be unlike him to hold on and make some flirtatious quip, but he doesn’t; he all but jumps off of Betsy, backing away as he pulls his helmet off.
“How does your hair still look good?” I say with disgust as I swing my leg over and dismount too.
He tucks his helmet under his arm and shoots me a grin. “It’s a gift. Perfect hair always. But never fear—it’s a power I don’t take lightly.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, the sound thick with skepticism. I remove my helmet and wipe my forehead with the sleeve of my jacket. “I have not been blessed with the same gift, as you can tell.”
His grin widens as he steps closer, ruffling my hair on top of my head. “Don’t be silly, Sunshine. You look lovely. Like a windswept motorcycle goddess.”
I knock his hand away, laughing against my will even as something like despair wells up in my chest. I settle my helmet on Betsy’s seat and then turn away from Felix to look at the forested mountainside that sprawls below, blinking my eyes forcefully.
Another item off my list—riding through the park to look at the trees. I even have Betsy back. And yet I still feel restless. I still feel discontented.
I thought I might, but it’s discouraging nonetheless. I’m just starting to think I was right. This feeling I’ve been having is the desire to move forward—not with little things, but big things. Life things.
From behind me, Felix speaks, cautious this time. “What—is it not everything you hoped it would be?”
I sigh. “It’s not that.” How do I explain? “It’s just—this bucket list thing has been enlightening in inconvenient ways.”
When he doesn’t answer, I glance over my shoulder to find him looking at me with raised eyebrows.
And I can’t believe I’m telling him these things, but I open my mouth to explain anyway. “I’ve been doing things from my list, right?” I say, turning my body to face him again. “I finally got the pet I’ve been wanting to get forever. I’m going to learn to bake a carrot cake. I’m doing things. But I still don’t feel?—”
“Fulfilled?” Felix says when I break off. “Accomplished?”
I shrug uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess.” My feet crunch over gravel and dust and dirt as I amble slowly over the ground, aimless. But I don’t want to just stand there and look at him. It’s too intimate, and I’m already feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling.
“That makes sense,” he says. He doesn’t seem as restless as I am; he moves to the picnic table by our parking spot and settles himself easily.
Because his eyes are still on me, I nod. “So I want to move forward with something else I’ve been thinking about. I want to fall in love.” My breath catches in my chest, but I go on. “I want a family of my own. I want to grow old with someone.”
His face, when I sneak a glance at him, has faded into an inscrutable mask. He doesn’t say anything, either, just gestures for me to keep speaking.
So I take a deep breath and look at the mountainside surrounding us. Then I say, “I’ve decided to join a dating site. Maybe two. I don’t know how those things work.”
The prospect of online dating was so motivating before—the knowledge that I had a definitive step I could take toward my goals. But now, looking at Felix, the idea loses some of its shine. I can feel it in the way my heart is sinking, a faint, sad feeling.
A step toward my goals might be a step away from Felix Caine. And that…that hurts a little bit.
You knew it would , I remind myself. You need to get him out of your system and find someone else. Now, before you truly fall in love with him.
There’s only silence from Felix now, but when I look over at him, he just gives me another slow nod.
“You could join a dating site,” he says as a little muscle jumps in his jaw. “I’m not sure you’re going to find the kind of guy you’re looking for online, though.”
“You have no idea what kind of guy I’m looking for,” I say. “And I could.”
“Could you?” he says, raising an eyebrow.
“I could.” The words are more defensive than I mean them to be. “I could find a perfect man online.”
“No one is perfect,” Felix says with a snort.
“Except you?”
“Not even me,” he shoots back. “But I’m better than anyone you’re going to meet through a website.”
“So, what,” I say, scoffing. I hesitate and then go on. “Should I date you? The man who doesn’t ever want to fall in love? The man who insists I’m not his type?”
I can’t pinpoint exactly why I ask him these questions. I know what he’s going to say, just as surely as I know his answer will sting.
But this way I can nip these feelings in the bud.
Let me down slowly, I beg him silently as I wait for him to speak. My eyes dart over his face, take in the faint frown that tugs at his lips, the furrow in his brows. Be gentle.
“Of course not,” he says finally, looking tired. He runs one hand down his face. “That’s not what I meant. And don’t—” He breaks off and then shakes his head, smiling a little. It looks forced. “Don’t listen to me, Sunshine. Join a dating site. You’ll have all the boys lining up in no time.”
Emotions tie themselves into knots at the back of my throat. “Of course I will,” I say, and I hate how childish I sound as I throw the words at him. “I’m a real catch.”
“You are,” he says. His gaze doesn’t meet mine. “You really are.”
I turn away, blinking rapidly, waiting for the stinging in my eyes to subside. Once it has, I pull my helmet back on. “You know,” I say, “I actually don’t feel so great. We should probably head back.”
“Are you okay to drive?”
“I’m fine to drive,” I say. “Let’s go. I’ll come out here another day.”
He doesn’t ask if he can come along.
Felix
In honor of your foray into the world of online dating, I would like to present you with a gift
Me
???
Felix
Indeed, and you’re welcome. I have curated a list of the best pick-up lines I could find.
I scoured the internet for these, Sunshine.
I hope you can put them to good use.
I’m emailing them to you right now.
Me
I am actively frightened to read any and all pick-up lines you found online
Felix
Nonsense. I chose only the best ones.
Heads up, most of them are Lord of the Rings themed because I dreamed that I was Frodo last night and the music was stuck in my head all day
Also.
Me
Also…?
Felix
Sorry about yesterday. What I said about finding a guy online or whatever. I was in a weird mood. I think it will be great for you.
Me
It’s okay. I was being weird too.
Send me the pick-up lines. I’m ready.
FROM THE INBOX
From: Felix Caine [email protected]
To: India Marigold [email protected]
Subject: pick-up lines just for you, you’re welcome
Here are your pick-up lines, Sunshine, and don’t you feel blessed and lucky to have me in your life? I expect a thorough report on how well these work for you. I think number seven holds particular promise.
1) Hey, Baby, are you a camera? Because all I can do is smile when I see you.
2) Is your name Ariel? Because we were mermaid for each other.
3) Hey, Baby, don’t worry—my elf eyes only see you.
4) I’d like to take your hobbit to my Isengard. (Note: if you use this one, do not tell your brother you heard it from me) (Actually probably just don’t use this one and don’t tell me if you do)
5) The fires of Mount Doom aren’t nearly as hot as you.
6) Were you forged by Sauron? Because you’re precioussssss.
7) Your salted pork is particularly lovely.
8) What do you say we get together and light the Beacons of Gondor?
9) I’m about to rescue you from Lonely Mountain.
10) Speak, friend, and enter…your number into my phone.