Tucson, Arizona

 

[UNKNOWN] The warehouse at 800 Lexington Avenue. Password: HURRICANE.

The message arrived at eight on the dot. Bentley pulled up the address on Maps. The street view feature of the app showed him that the place was literally a warehouse – it looked abandoned and nearly haunted from the picture. He almost had second thoughts, but no. Bentley was excited to come to Tucson for this very reason. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity.

“Williams! What the fuck, man?”

The shouting startled him. Bentley looked up at his teammates like they’d lost their minds.

“Is there a specific reason you’re screaming like a banshee?” he asked.

Josh worked on putting his watch on as he stared back at him. “What’s so interesting on your phone that you go deaf for fifteen seconds?”

Bentley didn’t care to answer. He stood up and began to strip out of his Nike singlet. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Another teammate, Kevin, rolled his eyes in response. “Come on, Williams. You don’t hang out with us back on campus because your girlfriend’s always at your side, but tonight, we’re in a whole new state. We’re going out and getting hammered, and maybe even getting some chicks pregnant. You’re coming with us.”

“What he’s trying to say is,” Josh said, shoving Kevin as the others laughed. “You’re a freshman who just finished second in the 400meter. That’s a big deal. Coach extended our curfew, and we want you to celebrate with us.”

Bentley hurried to get dressed as he denied their offer. “Maybe next time. Tonight is just –”

“Told you guys he wouldn’t be down,” another voice said. “He’s too Hollywood for us regular folks.”

Bentley ignored him. “I’ll just catch you fellas at the hotel.”

Grabbing his things, he slammed the locker shut and headed for the exit. Tonight could be the night that jumpstarted his career. Part of him was nervous, but he knew that he could do this. He could be the best at it.

Another student tried stopping him on the way out. Looking at him now, Bentley realized this was the Arizona student that finished in first place against him in the 400meter. The guy was an inch shorter than he was and looked more like a high school student than a college junior. He sported a buzz cut and probably never had to put a razor to his face.

“Hey,” he said, his hand catching Bentley by the wrist.

Bentley looked down and gently pulled his hand away. “Hey…. Can I help you? I’m kind of in a rush…”

“I’m Aaron,” he answered. “We ran against each other earlier.”

Bentley nodded. “I remember. You did great out there. Congrats on the vic–”

“You were totally holding back,” Aaron said, interrupting with a coy smile. “I’ve heard about you. We all have. The UCLA freshman with the lightning speed. My coach said you were for sure taking the gold.”

Bentley shouldered his duffel bag and glanced back at his teammates. They were all shouting at one another, and none of them seemed to be paying him nor Aaron any attention. Bentley looked back at the redhead and tried to think of a response. He wanted out of this conversation.

Aaron must’ve noticed this as he continued. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“No.” Bentley took a deep breath and smiled at him. “It’s cool. I guess I just wasn’t on my A game today. But I’ve gotta get –”

“Would you like to grab drinks with me?” Aaron asked.

It was now that Bentley realized just what this was. He was 99% sure this guy was coming on to him. It looked just like it did when girls flirted with him; flushed cheeks, lip biting, looking everywhere but at him. Bentley cleared his throat and laughed a bit.

“I, um…” He scratched at the scruff forming on his jaw. “Wow. I –”

“You’re straight? It’s fine,” Aaron said nervously. “I mean, it would’ve been nice just to get to know you, I guess. You could tell me how life is at UCLA and I’d tell you a bit about Arizona. I want to know why you were holding back, too. If you needed an ear…” he trailed off and shrugged a bit. “If you wanted.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Bentley responded.

Aaron did seem like a nice guy, but Bentley wasn’t about to go out for drinks with him. That sounded a little like a date. Bentley hadn’t even had the time to take his actual girlfriend out in a couple weeks. She wouldn’t like the sound of him partying it up with the guys in Tucson or hanging out with new people if he didn’t have time for her.

“I’ve really got to get going,” he continued. 

Aaron took a couple steps back, both hands in the air. “Alright. You can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Thanks again.” Bentley watched him for a while before finally leaving the locker room.

It wasn’t like that was the first time a guy came on to him, but it was the first time a sober guy had. Bentley never got weirded out about being hit on by other guys. He just wasn’t interested.

Outside the University, he requested an Uber with the address he was texted. Some of the guys from his team lingered out front, probably plotting out all the bars they’d hit up and the girls they’d try and lay. Most of them were in relationships, and Bentley thought they were scum. He sent them a head nod when they shouted “FRESHMAN!” at him, and happily hopped into the car when it arrived.

??

The Uber driver had been cheerful and forced upbeat conversation the entire ride, but once they’d arrived, it was clear to tell the man was deeply concerned. The area of the meetup was pitch black and eerily quiet. Bentley looked up from his phone and stared at the warehouse. He was beginning to wonder if he’d read the address correctly, or if there was some secret message within the message itself.

“Are you sure this is where you were supposed to come?” his driver asked. “I don’t know, dude. This place looks like it’s been abandoned for decades.”

Bentley grabbed his duffel bag and opened the car door. “I’ll go check.”

“What are you doing here anyway?”

He slammed the door before the guy could expect an answer. The ground outside 800 Lexington Ave was mixed with gravel and shards of glass. There were run-down vehicles with parts missing out front, likely stolen. No one seemed to be around, and that was what Bentley found to be the strangest. He’d never been to one of these meetups, but they were rumored to have an invite list of 100 people. There was no way there were 100 people inside this shack.

Bentley looked around one last time before slowly approaching the warehouse. The closer he moved to it, the more it dawned on him that this could end horribly. The sound of his Uber driver peeling off caused him to turn back.

So much for having an escape.

Maybe going out with his teammates and watching girls reject them wouldn’t have been the worst idea…

He pulled out his cell phone and constructed a text to his girlfriend.

[B] Hey baby. If you never hear from me again after this message, please tell my mom I’m sorry.

It was now or never. Bentley held a fist to the door and let it hang in the air. Knocking would be the next step. It was simple. He’d knocked before. But for some reason his arm wasn’t moving –

“Do you need me to do it for you?” a deep voice asked.

Bentley startled a bit before looking back. Despite the dude having on a hooded sweater and being dressed in all-black, Bentley knew just who he was.

“Just knock on the door. Please.”

Bentley faced forward and took a deep breath. He hit the wooden door twice, loud enough to create an echo. The kid behind him began to pace as they waited for someone to open it.

“You’re Gary Lipton,” Bentley stated more so than asked. “What are you even doing here?”

Gary pulled his hood further over his face. It was clear that he wasn’t going to answer the question. Gary Lipton was an up-and-coming BMX superstar. They were standing at an underground event for people who couldn’t compete on the level of dudes like Gary Lipton. As much as Bentley respected him, he didn’t exactly belong here.

The door opened. A burly guy with a bald head and dark skin peered out at Bentley and then Gary. He waved the latter in without question before staring Bentley up and down.

“What’s with the bag?”

Bentley watched Gary shove past the two of them and into the warehouse. He tried to get a glimpse inside, but the Vin Diesel wannabe was blocking him.

“I just came from a track meet,” Bentley answered. “I’ve got to get inside. I’m looking to ride tonight.”

The man smirked as he stared at Bentley’s UCLA t-shirt. “One bad fall and your athletic career is all over at your little college. Trust me, Pretty Boy, I don’t give a damn about you. But I’d reconsider whatever it is you’re thinking about doing.”

“The password is Hurricane,” Bentley said, stepping forward and trying to get past the man. When he didn’t move, Bentley dropped his bag in frustration. “What the fuck, man?”

“This place isn’t for your type. Save yourself the embarrassment and get out of here –” He stopped as he was urged aside by someone Bentley didn’t recognize. The man was older; long, shaggy hair covering his eyes, and a shiny gold tooth. He was tall and thin, and dressed more like a 15-year-old than the 30-something he must’ve been.

“Bentley Williams: the son of the Great Brian Williams! I’ve been expecting you for years, man.”

The big dope fell quiet, but he continued to stare at Bentley. Bentley rolled his eyes away from him and focused on the new guy instead.

“I told him the password. Can I come in?”

“I’m Denver. I looked up to your old man, you know. All of us did.”

Bentley was starting to get annoyed. He’d heard this enough growing up. “Same here. May I come in?”

After another few seconds of weird smiles, Denver finally stepped aside and gestured for Bentley to come in. He stared down the big doofus as he bent down to grab his bag, eventually walking past the both of them and into the warehouse.

It had to be the most beautiful thing Bentley had ever seen. There were steps that entered down into the indoor BMX park. Wooden ramps and metal railings and deep slopes – some of the walls were graffitied. Bentley stood at the entrance for a moment and took it all in. Gary stayed hidden in the far corner of the warehouse, his hood still hiding his face as he watched a rider mount his bicycle and drop down onto the ramp.

[Zoey] Bentley… whatever you’re about to do, DON’T DO IT.

He turned off his phone.

Denver walked up beside him. “Isn’t it a sight to behold?” he asked.

Bentley shouldered his bag and walked with him closer to where the action was. A group of people, some younger and some older, stood around the arena watching the current biker. “When I heard that Brian’s son was finally looking to throw his hat into our humble BMX ring, I couldn’t wait to extend an invite.”

Bentley watched the biker do a 360 tailwhip before dropping back down onto the ramp. He sped up and popped his wheel up onto a rail, quickly flying across it.

“Where’s your gear?” Denver continued.

“My mother would kill me if she knew I was even thinking of riding,” Bentley said. He could see Gary Lipton pull out a camcorder and turned away. “I travelled from Cali with my school. Couldn’t exactly bring a bike anyway. Do you have anything I can use?”

The man laughed a bit in response. Bentley watched the next rider enter the course. “Your mom is aware you’re Brian Williams’ son, correct? How can she not want you to ride?”

“Can I use a bike or not?”

“Sure, sure.”

Denver held up a finger before walking away. He went off towards a large group of guys and girls who didn’t seem to be riding tonight, but they were surrounded by their bikes. Maybe they were the ones that’d post everything online. Bentley looked away from them and back at the ramps. The guy riding now fell on his landing and took a moment to get back up. That was what worried Bentley. Much like the Vin Diesel wannabe said, if he got hurt here tonight, not only would his mother be upset, but his Coach would go postal. He was one of their only solid runners this post-season and he wasn’t even taking it seriously.

Every once in a while, Bentley noticed that he’d get strange looks. He hoped that Denver wasn’t blabbing about him being his father’s son, or his uncle’s nephew. His father and uncle were incredibly instrumental in the start of the underground BMX movement, and then they were the it guys after going mainstream. Everyone in the sport looked up to them for their role in getting freestyle bicycle motocross up and running.

He ignored the looks and placed his bag down against the wall. Crouching down, he stretched a bit and hoped this wouldn’t take too long. He did have a curfew and a flight back to L.A. with the team in a matter of hours.

“This is my baby,” Denver said as he approached with an all-silver bicycle.

After close inspection, Bentley realized there was no brand on it.

“I built it myself not that long ago. She rides like a brand-new Grenade.”

Bentley quickly sat down on the bike.

Denver smiled as he watched him get acquainted. “Beautiful, isn’t she? If you want to make some serious money tonight, you’ll go up against Lox. He’s our reigning champ. If you’re not interested in competing, then you can simply take a few laps around the arena.”

Bentley remembered Lox from browsing the BMX blogs. The dude was pretty hot shit – at least he thought he was. Then again, he had every reason to. His videos had tens of thousands of hits online and he’d just gotten a sponsor with Odyssey. He wasn’t even signed. Bentley wanted to face Lox just to beat him. He didn’t care much about the money.

“You’re fresh blood around here,” Denver continued. “Everyone else has gotten their ass kicked by him already.”

“What’s Gary Lipton doing here?” Bentley asked.

Denver smiled, glancing back at the hooded superstar attempting to stay lowkey. “He and a few others pop up every now and again when we throw these little… parties. They scout out competition. Try and figure out new moves. He mostly stays to himself.”

Bentley looked down at the handlebars and gripped them tightly. The rubber felt good in his clutch – no. It felt great in his clutch. There was nothing that made him feel better than riding.

It had been close to five years since he’d competed in a freestyle competition – Bentley was just a kid about to go into high school. His father literally had to sneak him to one in Long Beach because his mother was so strongly against it. In her defense, she wasn’t angry just to be angry. His dad got seriously hurt riding and she didn’t want her son to end up with the same fate.

Regardless of how she or anyone else felt, Bentley loved this sport more than anything. He was 18 now. It was time he went for what he wanted.

“I’ll go up against Lox.” Bentley looked across the warehouse and saw his competition laughing with a couple girls. “Can we get this started? I don’t mean to rush the process but I have a curfew.”

Denver smirked, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll make the announcement right now, Little Williams.”