25.
Graham
I got a text from Todd around six in the morning, saying he’d gotten food poisoning and had spent the entire night in the bathroom, in front of the toilet. There was no way in hell he’d be able to ride today. Also: was this Francesca person who just texted him THE Francesca? And if so, why was the universe punishing him by giving him the runs the very night a hot chick gets in touch and wants to meet up?
Yes, and, no fucking clue. But she’s in town for a little while, was my response.
So, I made the drive out to the race myself. It did cross my mind to invite Chloe, but I figured she’d be busy working on her sculpture, and I’d feel bad leaving her by herself while I was riding. It would be for a few hours, at least, and even though there’d be other people there, she might find it boring.
I didn’t have much trouble finding the farm where the race was being held at. It was one of those picturesque places, with red barns set amidst verdant-green hills, dotted with black and white cows and fuzzy sheep. It was the epitome of wholesomeness, and everyone seemed be in a better-than-usual mood. Guys that normally completely ignored me smiled; a few even nodded or said hello. I was a little late, as usual, so I got my bike off the rack, found my helmet, sunglasses, and made sure I had a water bottle. I took a few warm up loops around an empty pasture that seemed to be reserved for just that. The sun was bright in the cloudless sky, but there wasn’t a touch of humidity in the air. It was just one of those spectacular days.
I was riding down to the start line when I saw her. At first I thought it was just her doppelganger, and I even made the mental note to tell her that there happened to be a girl with an uncanny resemblance to her at the race today. But then she turned and her eyes met mine and it was Chloe. And who was she standing next to?
Parker.
I rode over. The look of surprise on her face probably matched the one on my own.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said. Parker had been fiddling with his brake cable, but stopped when I approached.
“Graham,” he said, not
realizing that I’d been addressing Chloe. “You ready to get your ass handed to
you today, my good man? I know this course is tough, but I’ve got my good-luck
charm here today.”
Chloe stood there, her shoulders creeping up toward her ears, eyes darting from
Parker to me and back again.
I ignored Parker. “I didn’t realize you were into mountain bike racing,” I said to her.
“I’m not really.” She couldn’t seem to hold my gaze. “I just ... Parker just invited me along. I ... I didn’t realize you were into it.”
Now it was Parker’s turn
to look confused. “Hold up—you two know each other?”
I refrained from saying that yes, we knew each other, and not just in the
Biblical sense. I didn’t say anything, because I wanted Chloe to answer.
She held her arm out. “He gave me this tattoo,” she said.
Parker barely even glanced at it. “Oh. Yeah, Graham here’s a man of many talents.”
There was a strange tension building in my chest. I’d never considered myself a jealous person, but I wanted nothing more than to demand to know what the hell she was doing here with Parker, of all people. Was this some sort of joke?
But I wasn’t going to let either of them see me rattled like that. I could keep a cool exterior regardless of how I was feeling on the inside, and that was exactly what I intended to do right now.
“Right. Well, see you guys,” I said, and I pedaled off before either could say anything else.
*****
I wanted to completely eradicate every single thing I was feeling; fortunately, a bike race was a great place to do exactly that. I didn’t want to be like Kurt and end up doing something stupid. I also couldn’t really remember ever feeling like this, maybe because none of the other girls I’d been with in the past I’d liked this much. I’d certainly never entertained the idea of being in a real relationship with any of them—not the way I had with Chloe.
But I kept seeing her, standing there with Parker, and there was a part of me that knew they looked right together. There was some part of me that actually understood that shit my mother had been saying to me. Yeah, I’m sure Chloe’s parents would much rather see her with a guy like him than me.
I couldn’t focus. Every time I tried to, I kept thinking about her with him. I pedaled harder, faster, but the thoughts were overpowering and refused to be ignored.
And I didn’t want to feel like this.
I kept pushing it harder and harder, going into corners too fast, not using the brakes when I should, passing people in really precarious areas. I didn’t run anyone off the trail, but I came close a few times. I also wiped out in the rock garden, bailed a few times over some roots, and mistimed my approach when bunny-hopping a big log most people dismounted to get over. I didn’t care because the pain felt good and was at least a distraction from my thoughts.
And despite all these falls, I somehow ended up finishing the race first.
*****
After the race, I felt battered and sore, and I sure as hell would be hurting tomorrow when I woke up. Not just fatigued muscles, but bruises, scrapes, and a couple lacerations that had dripped blood down my calves and into my socks. I didn’t care. I threw my bike into the bed of the truck instead of putting it on the rack. I was about to get in when I saw Chloe.
“Hey,” she said, her voice nervous. “Are you okay?”
My throat felt like it had closed up. “Yeah,” I finally managed to say. “Tough course out there today.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“It looks worse than it actually is.”
“Oh.”
We both stood there, not saying anything. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”
“I know,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you either. I didn’t know you did these things.”
“This is the second time I’ve come across you out with another guy.”
She opened her mouth to
say something but then stopped, a confused expression on her face. “Huh? Second
time?”
“I saw you at a restaurant with some other guy,” I said, not caring that I was
bringing it up now. “I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to make a big
deal out of it.”
“I ... I don’t even know who you’re talking about. A guy? When? Where?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “And it really doesn’t even matter. Except that I’m now running into you again, with another guy! Who I happen to know, and who I think is a total douchebag.”
“I didn’t do anything with him,” she said. “It’s not like that.”
She had that hurt expression on her face, the same one the first night I met her when I told her I wasn’t going to give her a tattoo. The thing was, I believed her. But I could also still hear my mother’s voice, insisting how different people like Parker and Chloe, and my father, were from us.
“It’s fine if you do,” I said. “Feel free. Enjoy.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond; I just got in the truck and drove away.
*****
I took a detour on the way home and just ended up driving, the road unfurling in front of me in a straight line. By the time I’d finally made it back onto the Cape, I’d decided I’d just break it off with Chloe. Whatever “it” was. I pulled my phone out of the glove box. I wasn’t going to text or call her now; I would let her know in person. I kept one eye on the road and the other on my phone as I scrolled through the names, looking for Francesca.