Part 51

As we’re pulling up the drive to the school, I’m looking at all of the other kids arriving and my apprehension grows.

“Oh bother, I forgot about that.”

“What, honey?” asks Mom.

“This assembly is mixed: both the boys and the girls schools are at this one. Tell you what, Mom, I’ll go to three dollars and fifty-seven cents, a partially used lipstick and I’ll even throw in where Mark and Bill hide their Playboys. Just turn around and go home and it’s all yours.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll pick you up here after school,” says Mom with a chuckle.

“Meanie.”

“‘Bye, honey, have a good day.”

“Ugh. ’Bye, Mom.”

With a parting, “love you” from both of us, I get out of the car feeling only slightly queasy and head up to the main entrance.

Thinking that it must be my imagination that makes me feel like everyone is suddenly staring at me, I take another look around. Nope, not everyone, there’s the grounds guy working in the garden over there, he’s not looking. Oops, spoke too soon, now he is. Crap.

Kids all around me are running around and greeting each other, laughing and generally having a good time. At least until I walk by, then they stop and stare, at least it seems that way.

I shift my backpack with my right hand and adjust my grip on my gym bag with my left and hurry on inside. I need to either find my locker soon or hire a Sherpa to lug all this stuff round.

Inside, tables are set up and signs directing kids on where to go. I see the ‘A—H’ sign and head over to get my paperwork.

About halfway to the table, I hear my name called out.

“Alex!”

Looking around I see Chelsea waving and heading over to me.

“Hey, Chelsea.”

“Hi. Come on, let’s get your schedule and go get our seat before all the good ones are gone.”

Grabbing my gym bag from me, Chelsea leads me up to the table.

“Hello, Nancy, this is one of our new girls, Alex Conners.”

The older women at the table smiles up at me as I hear someone behind me say, “That’s a boy’s name.”

Turning, I see a stunning blonde girl talking to two other girls. She looks over at me, then gives me a slow look from my feet to my head then turns away and walks off. The two girls with her quickly follow after.

I missed whatever Nancy said and I turn back and say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I said, here you go, dear. Make sure that’s your name on the front, then you can go.”

“Oh, yes that’s me. Thank you.”

Chelsea says, “Brilliant, thank you, Nancy. Come on, Alex, you can look through that after we get our seat.”

Rushing after Chelsea I catch up and ask, “Chelsea, who was that blonde girl?”

“Which one, Alex?”

“The one that was over at the tables just now.”

I look around and don’t see her now.

“Huh, she’s gone now.”

“Well, when you see her again, let me know. Oh good, here we are, we can sit here.”

‘Here’ was one of the couches near the fireplace in the atrium area where the morning announcements are held. The reason no one else was sitting there yet was this is right where the lectern is and where all the teachers and the headmistress stand during assembly. Chelsea’s idea of a ‘good’ seat is right up front whereas my idea of a good seat would be somewhere in Utah.

We take our seats, others are sitting on the other couches and chairs or even on the floor. This being a mixed assembly, it’s real crowded and we end up with a couple of other kids sitting with us.

“You’re going to have to tell me where you got your clothes, Alex; they look absolutely super on you–not at all like everyone else’s uniform.”

“Oh, well my sister did some tailoring on it. You sure it looks okay?”

“The skirt looks like it barely meets the standard for length, but you have the legs to carry it off. No, everything looks absolutely brill on you.”

I am about to start to go through my paperwork when Chelsea touches my arm. Looking up I see her mom, Mrs. Cavanaugh, approach the lectern. She turns on the microphone, gives it a couple of taps to make sure it’s on then says, “Good morning everyone. Please settle down and take a seat so we can get started.”

Everyone quietens down.

“Welcome to a new year. I hope everyone had a good summer vacation and is now eager to get back to school?”

A chorus of groans and catcalls are the response.

Smiling she continues, “Don’t worry, this is not only a short week but an easy one as well. We don’t want to overwhelm you too soon.

“Now to business, today…excuse me, Darla, Jennifer, if your conversation is that important, maybe you would like to come up here and share it with everyone? No? Then please pay attention.

“Okay, as I was saying, today and tomorrow are your orientation days. For you new students, it will give you an opportunity to get settled and find out where all of your classes are. For all of you, you need to make sure and check in with all of your teachers. Some classes are handing out assignments this week, so don’t miss out on them.

“Before we get to today’s business, I first want to introduce you all to our new students. Please make them feel welcome and help them get settled.”

Mrs. Cavanaugh then starts reading off the names of the new students and has them stand for everyone to see. When my name is called, I stand, give a little wave and quickly sit back down. God I hate doing that.

With that done, Mrs. Cavanaugh makes some more announcements, then some teachers make some, as well as Mr. Walker, the dean of the boys’ school. When everyone is done, we’re released to get settled and to find our classes.

As the assembly breaks up, Chelsea and I stay put while I go through my paperwork.

“So, where’s your locker?” asks Chelsea.

“It’s ah, two thirty-five.”

“Okay, that’s right outside Miss Mitchell’s room. She’s one of the English teachers.”

“I think I may have her for one of my classes. Let’s see, yeah, she’s teaching my English Lit class.”

“Brilliant, let’s go then, we can drop your stuff off at your locker, then see Miss Mitchell, then go see your other teachers.”

* * *

“I don’t know how you can eat that ice cream, especially after that absolutely huge lunch you just had,” states Chelsea.

“It’s yummy,” I say. “Sure you don’t want some?”

“I’d love some, but if I had any, I’d blow up like a balloon. Just looking at you eat and I’m gaining weight.”

“Well I’m trying to gain weight. I need to gain around another twenty pounds I figure. I don’t know why you’re so cautious, even if you put on some weight, you’d still look just fine.”

“Me? No, I’m already big as a cow.”

“Um, Chelsea, I don’t know how to break this to you but you are a long way from bovine stage. You look just fine to me. The important thing is to be healthy, not necessarily thin.”

“Huh, now you sound just like Mum.”

“Your mom is a smart woman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you are thin, and tall, and beautiful. We mortals have to work a bit harder.”

Feeling a bit hurt by her statement I say, “What makes you think I have it any easier than you? I exercise all of the time. I run, swim, do gymnastics. That keeps me fit and keeps my metabolism up so I can eat what I want and not freak about gaining an extra ounce.”

I turn and go over to one of the outside tables near the lunchroom and sit in the shade.

“Oh cripes, Alex, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say…oh bloody hell, I’m just sorry. I try to not obsess over how I look but I can’t help it sometimes. I’m also just a bit jealous of your good looks.”

Looking up at Chelsea, I see that she’s genuinely bothered by what just happened.

“Sit and listen. It’s taken me quite a long time to come to terms with how I look. You say I’m good looking, well maybe I am, but for the longest time I hated hearing that, I denied it when I heard it, I just plain refused to accept it. I had to come close to dying to finally come to terms with this body I find myself in. I am pretty, to me, to my family and to my friends. That’s all that matters.

“You are very pretty and you need to accept that. I think so, your mom thinks so, and you need to think so too.”

“Alex, you’re right and mostly I do accept myself just like you say. Sometimes though it’s rather harder to do that than at other times.”

“Why’s that?”

“A big reason is coming up the path right now.”

Turning, I see the blonde and the two other girls from earlier.

“Hey, that’s the blonde girl I was asking you about. Who is she?”

“That is Lindsey Bowers and her loyal followers.”

“She’s stunning.”

“She’s got the best body money can buy. It looks like she got the boob job she was telling everyone about over the summer break.”

“Isn’t she a bit young for surgery?”

“When your father is a top plastic surgeon who thinks his precious daughter not only walks on water, but sugar won’t melt in her mouth ’cause she’s so sweet, and spoils her absolutely rotten…oh I just get so…oh never mind. Suffice to say she’s spoiled and thinks she’s better than everyone else and I hate that someone that so beautiful on the outside is so hideous on the inside. She just pushes my buttons.”

Before I can reply, Lindsey and entourage walk over to our table.

“Hey, Chelsea,” says Lindsey. “Who’s your little friend?”

Ooh, Chelsea was right about her.

“Hello, Lindsey. Alex this is Lindsey, Britney and Joan. Everyone, this is Alex.”

Lindsey asks, “Alex, isn’t that a boy’s name?”

“Not in my case. It’s short for Alexandra. Lindsey, isn’t there a senator named Lindsey? Looks like we both have a name that boys use.”

I give her a smile and get a narrowing of her eyes and a tightness of the mouth in reply. Her friends look a tad shocked.

“Later, Chel-see-ya,” and with a bare nod towards me she says, “Alex.”

“Bye, Lindsey, nice meeting you.”

After she walks off, Chelsea says, “Oh my god, Alex, that was absolutely brilliant. Don’t make an enemy of her though. She can hold onto a grudge like no one I know and her father doesn’t do anything to rein her in.”

“Hmm, she’s the head cheerleader I’d guess.”

“We don’t have any cheerleaders, but if we did, you’d be right.”

* * *

Journal Entry: September 3^rd

Thank goodness that this was a short week. On Wednesday I started at my new school. I suppose as schools go, it isn’t too bad but this is the first school I’ve ever been to. Okay, okay I confess, it wasn’t a horrid as I thought it would be. My initial fears that everyone would know about me and would be asking me questions and pointing and staring were only partially realized. It seems that pretty much everyone does know, but no one stares, at least not much anyway, and certainly no one has pointed at me like I feared.

I have gotten some questions, but not many and none really pressing.

For the most part, everyone has been really, really nice to me.

For Wednesday I hung around with Chelsea. She’s a new friend and was assigned to help me get oriented. On Thursday she got me off to my classes at the university but couldn’t go with me and today we hung out a bit more as we both have gym together.

The time at my new school went a bunch better in terms of me being able to handle things than I though it would–going off to the university is another story. I think it’s because I feel so out of place at the university. I mean, everyone there is so much older.

First let me talk about my classes. I have English Lit, Calculus and Tennis/Gym at my school and 20th-Century French and Italian Poetry then Plant Biology, Evolution, and Ecology over at the university.

The classes at school all seem like they’re going to be fine and the teachers all seem really nice. I’m not so sure about the ones at the university. First there’s my Philosophy and Poetry class. I’m taking this one for my language credit and it seems all right enough on paper, but my teacher doesn’t seem so nice. For one thing, she refuses to speak anything but French or Italian in the class and if you don’t ask her your question in one of those languages, she refuses to even acknowledge you.

Some poor guy asked her a question in really poor Italian and she started berating the poor guy for not being as fluent as she thought he should be. The poor guy was almost brought to tears. I plan on keeping my mouth shut and just trying to get by without having her sharp tongue directed towards me.

My Biology class is different and way intimidating. My teacher there is Mr. Knighton and he’s a really nice man. We were also given our final exam on our first day and told that this is the only test we will have all semester, the rest of our grade will be based upon our lab work.

The final is twenty-five pages and is due at the end of the semester. We were told that no one has yet aced the test and that ‘As’ are rarely given out. Talk about intimidating, you thought I was kidding, didn’t you?

Hmm, that’s about it for now. I’ll have more next Friday after I’ve had a full week of actual school.

Until then, Ta’!

End Journal Entry

After finishing up my journal entry, I log off my computer, grab my English book and head downstairs. With a quick detour through the kitchen to get something to drink, I curl up in the family room to get some reading done. I have three of Faulkner’s short stories to read before Monday. Having read one already, I can tell I’m going to need time to read the other two. It turns out I’m not real fond of William Faulkner, at least what I’ve read so far.

I’m just finishing up reading the second short story when Ellen and Jack come into the family room.

“Hey, sis, doing homework?” Ellen asks with a smile.

“Yeah, we’re reading Faulkner and he’s not making my top ten list yet. When are your classes starting?”

“Next week. Say, Jack and I were going out to the lake bed tomorrow morning to catch some of the time checks. It’s kinda fun, come with us.”

“What are time checks?”

“Oh that’s when people are given the opportunity to see how fast their car or motorcycle can go without having to worry about getting a ticket.”

“Gee, I don’t think so, guys. Thanks anyway.”

“Aw come on. I didn’t think it would be any fun the first time I went but you’d be surprised. We have some people we know who are getting time checked and that makes it more fun. This is your last weekend before school starts for good: you don’t want to spend it sitting around here do you?”

“Say, Ellen, why don’t we invite everyone, we can make it a family affair?” asks Jack.

“That’s a great idea.” Ellen gives Jack a quick kiss then says, “I’ll go ask Mom and Dad right now.”

I give Jack a glower and say, “Thanks bunches, Jack.”

Smiling and giving me a shrug of his shoulders, he replies, “It really is fun, Alex. I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t think you’d have fun. Besides, your sister is right, you don’t want to spend your last weekend stuck at home.”

“Merde.”

Jack just laughs and follows after Ellen.

* * *

The next morning everyone is up early getting ready to drive out to the middle of the freakin’ desert. My brothers are super-excited to the point of bouncing off the walls. My family is insane.

Dressing in the coolest outfit I have, my Esmeralda-style loose skirt and gauze gypsy blouse, I grab my large purse, throw in my English book, sunscreen and other essentials then head downstairs for some breakfast.

With our car packed with the picnic stuff, room in the back is going to be tight with me and the twins so I take Jack and Ellen up on their offer to ride with them.

Settling in the back, I pull out my book and get to reading.

A few hours later we pull to a stop and Ellen turns and finger-thwacks my book.

“What?”

“We’re here. Is the book that good?”

“This one isn’t as bad as the others. He’s still not my favorite but at least I’ve got the reading done now.”

“Come on, let’s get our stuff unloaded.”

“To where?”

“Our place is over there.”

Looking over to where Ellen is pointing, I see a nice but rather dusty motor home, a big one.

Grabbing one of the baskets from the back, I follow Ellen over. There’s a large awning attached to the motor home to provide shade while you watch what’s going on the course.

Just as we get close to the motor home, the door opens and down steps Jack’s father followed by Brandon. Oh great.

“Ellen, Jack you made good time,” says Mr. Perrot. Turning to me he comes forward, takes the basket from my hands and passes it to Brandon and gives me a quick hug then kisses on each cheek.

“Alex, I’m so very happy that you decided to join us today, so very happy.”

“Um, thank you, Mr. Perrot. I hadn’t realized that you and Brandon would be here too.” With a look to Ellen I add, “This is quite a nice surprise.”

“Oh ho! First you must call me Richard, second I take it you were not told? Never mind, you will have fun, I know it.”

“I’m sure I will, sir.”

“No, no, it’s Richard.”

“Yes, sir.”

Laughing he puts his arm around my shoulders and turns to Mom and Dad. “Robert, Sharon, your daughter is a delight and I’m glad you all came.”

“Hello, Richard,” Mom and Dad say.

We all help unload the cars and afterwards are settled in the shade drinking ice-cold tea.

Trying to make conversation I say, “This is a nice motor home you have here.”

“No, it is not mine though it is very nice. No, I’m borrowing it from a friend of mine so Brandon and I can have some comfort while we wait to play.”

“Play?”

“Oui, I just got my new baby and want to see how well she does and so does Brandon.”

At my look of confusion, Richard points to an awning that is shading a red and white motorcycle and a black and grey sports car.

“Brandon has had his motorcycle for some time but has never tested her and since I wanted to come out here to see what my baby could do, I was able to convince him to do the same.”

“I always thought that learning to ride a motorcycle would be fun. I didn’t know you rode, Brandon.”

“You must have Brandon give you some lessons while you’re here.”

“Oh no, sir, um, Richard, I haven’t even learned to drive a car yet, well technically at least.”

“Nonsense, this is the perfect place to learn, there’s nothing to run into for miles. Brandon won’t mind teaching you.”

“Dad,” says Brandon “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. My bike is pretty powerful.”

“Alex is a strong and very capable young woman, I’m sure she could handle it.”

I can tell that Brandon really doesn’t want to do this and quite frankly I’m not sure I want to get a lesson from him.

“Tell you what, Dad, since Alex is so ‘capable’ why don’t you give her a lesson in driving your car, then I’ll give her one on the motorcycle?”

Brandon sits back with a very self-satisfied look on his face. Apparently his dad doesn’t let anyone drive his car.

Richard looks at his son for a minute and finally smiles and says, “That’s a wonderful idea. Come along, Alex; let me show you my baby, with your parents’ leave of course.”

Mom says, “Just be careful, honey.”

Great, just bloody great. Thanks, Mom.

Brandon looks slightly stunned.

I get up and follow Richard over to his car. It really is a beautiful thing.

“What kind of car is this? Those circles on the front hood look like the ones on an Audi, but I’ve never seen one like this before.”

“It is an Audi. This is the new Audi R8. Climb into the passenger side and we’ll drive over to that cordoned off area over there. They’ll be plenty of room there for your first lesson.”

I get in and sit down and love it–the new car smell, the feel of the leather seats and how they hold you. Wow, this is nice.

“This is really a nice car. You don’t have to let me drive it, I know Brandon was being difficult so he wouldn’t have to teach me to ride a motorcycle and that’s okay too.”

“Go ahead and buckle up my dear. It’s a four-point harness. Yes, Brandon is being difficult. As a parent you need to pick your battles with your children and when you do, you must win them. He needs this lesson, dear. I hope you don’t mind me taking advantage of you in this way.”

“No, that’s okay, sir. I actually kinda find this a bit fun. For some reason I always seem to tweek his nose whenever we meet, no sense not doing it this time.”

Richard gives me a huge grin and says, “Then let us tweek away.”

He drives over to a large area that has been separated by orange cones. While we drive around, he explains about the car and how it, excuse me ‘she’ handles then he says, “Hold on, Alex, let me show you what she can do.”

I hold on and he floors it. We accelerate like we’re going out of a gun, then he cranks the wheel hard, hits the brakes and we spin and suddenly we’re driving backwards still at full speed. He repeats the maneuver and we’re facing forward again. He shows me drifts, and spins, power stops and slides. It’s incredibly exciting.

Finally we stop and we’re both grinning from ear to ear.

“Okay, ma petite, your turn.” And he starts to unbuckle.

“Me? Oh no, I can’t drive this car. What if I ruin it? I could break it.”

“You are not going to ruin her or break her, now come on. You’ll be fine.”

So I unbuckle and get out of the car. The heat smacks me in the face and I’m glad to get back inside of the car. Looking over to where my family is, I see them looking over at us and giving us a little wave.

Richard helps me get everything adjusted then talks me through the running of the car. Now Dad has taken me out to various parking lots and had me drive around, but this is different. This car is incredibly powerful and responsive.

After we’ve driven around for awhile, Richard says, “Okay, now let’s speed things up. I’ll talk you through everything you need to do but you need to do it right when I tell you, do you trust me?”

Nervously I say that I do.

Patting my leg he says, “You’ll do fine. Now let’s have some fun.

“Now then, accelerate, good. When I say ‘now’ I want you to slam on the brakes and turn the wheel to the right as far as it will go. Go faster, faster, NOW.”

The car spins and we’re now facing the way we just came.

“Okay, now step on the gas, we’ll do that again but this time I want you to release the brake as soon as we spin and put the car in neutral and keep the clutch in. Let’s go.

After a couple of tries, I’m now facing the way we came but still travelling in our original direction. We keep doing this until I’m doing all sorts of tricks: power slides and stops, spins and things you normally see only in a James Bond movie. It’s a blast.

Finally we head back to the motor home and the others.

“Ma petite, you were wonderful. I know people who never learn some of those maneuvers.”

“I had an excellent teacher. Thank you so much, this was really fun.”

We park the car and I hop out. Everyone is right there, the twins are all over the car, checking it out and everyone is talking at once.

“Mom, Dad, did you see me? This was so much fun. I want a car just like this.”

Mom laughs and Dad says, “Um, no. I’m thinking something with a whole lot less power for you, young lady.”

“Aww, Dad.” But I give him a big smile.

“Robert, Sharon, sons are truly wonderful to have. To raise them up to be men is a great accomplishment, but girls, ah there is something very special about them. You two are very lucky.”

“Dad,” says Brandon, “control called over and said your first run is going to be in thirty minutes and for you to be ready.”

“They moved up my time. Alex, you will of course be my co-pilot, oui?”

“Oh, ah…”

“Dad, she can’t in that outfit. It’s not safety rated and she doesn’t have a helmet.”

Richard thinks for a moment and then says, “Easily solved. She’s going to need something to wear for your ride on the motorcycle, so, Jack, can you and Ellen take Alex over to the shop and get her into some leathers, that should do it? Brandon, help me with the car. Bill and Mark, I could use your help too.”

“Yippee!” is the twins’ response.

I start to protest, “Sir…I can’t…”

“Nonsense, that’s why they have the stuff over there. Now hurry, I need you with me as a good luck charm.”

A look over to Mom and I get a shrug of her shoulders.

Oh well, if they have clothes to borrow, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.

Ellen, Jack and myself go over to the store and soon I’m walking out of the dressing room in some very nice but rather tight leather pants.

“Wow, it’s not real easy to walk around in these and I squeak when I walk.”

“It’ll get easier,” says Ellen. “You look great, but here,” and she tosses me a black tank top, “this will work better than your blouse.”

I slip off my blouse and pull on the tank top. I then notice Jack quickly turning away.

“Jack, it’s okay. You’ve seen me in my bikini and it’s smaller than this bra.”

“Sis, I never thought I’d see the day that you were so caviler about that.”

“Me too, but I’ve had a bunch of time to think about things and it doesn’t bother me nearly as much now.”

“Well that’s great. Now here, try this jacket on.”

“Geeze, I feel like I belong in a Mad Max movie or something.”

“You look hot.”

“Okay, ladies, we need to run, I’ll take care of everything here, and you need to get back to Father.”

“Thanks, honey,” and Ellen gives Jack a quick kiss. “Come on, sis.”

Note to self: wearing black leather in the desert–not the best of ideas. By time we get back to the motor home I’m boiling; I have the helmet under one arm and have the jacket in the other and it feels like the temperature has gone up a bunch.

Just as we get up to the car, we hear a loud and getting louder by the second high-pitched whine. Looking up we see a very large black motorcycle suddenly whip by.

“Man that guy was going fast.” Suddenly worried, I say, “We’re not going to go that fast are we?”
Brandon replies, “No, that was one of the pros. We won’t be going nearly so fast. Um, nice outfit.”

“Oh, um thanks.”

“Come, Alex, we must hurry,” says Richard.

I put on the jacket and climb into the car. Luckily the air conditioning is on. I strap in and rest the helmet on my lap.

Richard gets in and says, “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, this will be very fun. You look marvelous by the way. Let’s go.”

We drive down to the starting point five miles away. Richard explains, “Your time is recorded for each mile. To have an official time/speed, you must take the average of three miles. Now there is an English team that is looking to break the land speed record. They say their car will go a thousand miles per hour using a solid fuel rocket for power. To break the record, they must do it twice in a sixty-minute period. That will be very hard to do.”

“A thousand miles per hour? That’s, that’s faster than a bullet!”

“Oui, ah here we are.”

We pull up and there is a bright red Porsche already at the line. We see the lights count down and he’s off. Richard is motioned forward and we pull up and stop.

The officials there give him his instructions and we wait. We can’t go until the car that just left is off the course.

“Okay petite, tighten your straps as tight as you can get them and buckle on your helmet. I’m afraid that we’ll also have to have the air conditioner off.”

We both tighten our straps and don our helmets. We’re motioned to the line and suddenly the lights march down from red to amber to green and we’re off!

The acceleration presses me back into my seat. Richard is smoothly shifting through the gears–so smooth that I don’t notice any hesitation between gears. We’re absolutely flying across the desert. Everything to the side of us is a blur. This is so cool.

In hardly any time at all it seems, we’re crossing the finish line and begin to slow down. Richard turns to me and he has a big smile behind the helmet: it matches my own.

“How fast did we go?”

Richard pulls over to the building and says, “I want to wait for the official version but I think we did very well.”

We park and both of us take off our helmets. A man comes over and Richard rolls down his window. The guy leans down and says, “Could I get both of your names, please?”

“I am Richard Perrot and this is Alexandra Conners.”

“Congratulations on your time you two and welcome to the two-hundred mile an hour club. We’ll have your certificates ready in just a moment.”

“Oh my god, is he serious?”

“Oui, this car is rated to go around 190 miles per hour but with the wind at our backs and of course you in the car, I was hoping that we could break two-hundred.”

Shortly, the guy comes back with some paperwork and hands it to Richard. Richard goes through it and says “Our official time is two-hundred and three miles per hour. Here you go, this is for you.”

Looking at the paper Richard hands me, it’s a certificate with my name saying I’m now an official member of the two-hundred mile per hour club.

As we’re driving back to our spot, I say, “I don’t understand, I didn’t do anything, I just sat here and was along for the ride.”

“You were my lucky charm and officially the co-driver.”

“Thank you, really this has been a blast.”

“You’re most welcome. Later I’ll have another chance to better our time.”

We park and get out. Everyone is talking and I’m telling Ellen and the twins how fun it was.

“Oh, I need to get out of this leather. I’m boiling.”

“Let’s go inside with the air conditioning and have some lunch,” says Mom.

“And then afterwards, Brandon can teach you to ride a motorcycle,” adds Richard. “Brandon, she’s a very good student.”

* * *

After lunch, Brandon comes over to me after everyone else has gone back outside. He’s changed into his leathers and has his helmet.

“I guess I should give you that lesson now.”

“Listen, Brandon, I know you really don’t want to do this and that’s okay. We don’t have to.”

“No, if I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I just don’t want to cause you problems. I seem to do that to you a lot.”

With a chuckle, Brandon replies, “Things do seem to happen whenever the two of us meet, don’t they?”

“Yeah they do. Is Bambi still mad?”

“It’s Brandy and I’m not seeing her anymore.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, well anyway, let’s get to your lesson.”

We go outside to his motorcycle and he starts explaining how it works and how you shift and brake.

“Okay, I think I get that. Now what kind of bike is this?”

“It’s a Ducati.”

“It’s cute.”

At this, Brandon rolls his eyes. “It’s not cute.”

“Pretty, then?”

At his look, I start to giggle.

“Okay, okay, it’s not cute or pretty. It’s very…nice.”

“Just drop it, Alex, and put on your helmet. We’ll go over where you and Dad drove his car and see if you can handle the bike.”

He puts on his helmet and gets on the bike.

“Okay, use those footholds and swing onboard.”

I do and settle on the tiny padded portion meant for a passenger. I lightly place my hands on his waist and he starts the bike and we slowly drive over to the area we’ll be using.

When we get there he gets off and says, “Now nothing fancy. Just take it slow and easy and remember that it doesn’t take much throttle to get this bike going so be careful. If you fall, be sure to pull your bottom leg back so it doesn’t get pinned between the ground and the bike.

“I don’t want my bike all dinged up but better the bike than you breaking or worse, losing your leg.”

I give him a thumbs up and follow his instructions. There’s a couple of false starts until I get the hang of the clutch and throttle, then I’m slowly driving around, going through the gears.

After a bit, Brandon stops me and says, “Let’s try you with a passenger.” He swings onto the back and continues, “Now we’ll do just a straight run until you get through all the gears. I’ll give you a tap on your leg when you should stop. Okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Brandon puts his arms around me and between me having to lean forward on the bike, and Brandon being so big and pressed into my back, I’m getting a weird feeling–not quite like my panic attacks, but kind of.

Starting up I move through the gears fairly fast and soon am going about sixty miles per hour. I can see why people like to ride.

After about four miles, Brandon taps my leg and I slow to a stop.

“So what do you think?” asks Brandon.

“It’s great but you’re kind crushing me against the bike.”

“Sorry about that. It really isn’t made for two. Want me to drive it back?”

“Please, it’s a lot more work than I thought it would be.”

“You did great. Dad was right, you are a good student.”

Brandon gets on the bike and says, “Now don’t sit up this time. Press yourself into my back and be sure to lean with me on any turns.”

I climb onto the back, scoot close and put my arms around his waist. The feel of the motorcycle as it hums along and the vibrations are almost exciting. Correction, they are exciting. I shift my grip on the front edge of the seat and just lose myself in the intense feelings I’m getting.

The bike wobbles a time or two as we go along–Brandon goofing off I guess. With the way I’m sitting and the vibrations I’m getting right between my legs, I begin to feel an orgasm build.

Before I can reach my peak, we’re back where we started and Brandon stops the bike and turns his head back towards me.

“I think you need to move your hands now. I damn near crashed a couple of times back there. Besides, someone is going to notice.”

“What are you talking about?”

Brandon looks down to his lap. I follow his gaze and see that I’m not gripping the front edge of the seat after all. I’ve got a good hold of…

“Oh, ick!”

I hop off the back of the bike, dancing around and saying “Oh I’m sorry, oh ick. That’s so…oh, god.”

I then run back to the motor home and inside to the bathroom. I can’t believe that I was holding onto his…oh, god!