Page 87 of Over & Out

I pressed my lips together, dying to know more. Had she stolen it? Did the guy who’d bought it from me ditch it here? He hadn’t really listened when I told him how to deal with all of Betty’s quirks.

“My…the dad at the house I live at, he bought it from some rich guy a couple months ago.”

My stomach lurched.The dad at the house I live at.That could have meant any number of things. Either way,it was deeply familiar phrasing to me, and not the kind that felt good.

“So you’re borrowing it?” I asked softly.

Shay nodded. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. It was an old ski jacket, torn, with the stuffing sticking out under one armpit. Didn’t mean anything. I had jackets like that.

But then she said, in barely a whisper, “He’ll kill me if he finds out,” my heart cracked in two.

“But he probably won’t. He found out it was yours and called it a piece of shit Barbie bike,” she blurted out. “Said it was no wonder it was so cheap. He stuck it out behind the barn with the broken ones. He’s gone all day during the week, and I knew it was yours. I remember it from when…” She looked almost like she was going to cry for a moment, but quickly tucked the emotion away. “I used to go to your races.” She looked down at Betty and reached forward to try to pick her up.

“Here,” I said, lifting it up with her.

We got it to standing.

“Shay,” I said gently, “I know exactly how you’re feeling. I think. I just…” I hesitate. “No bike is worth getting in trouble for.”

In troublewas a catchall. I could see we both understood that.

“Is there a way you can ask him if you can borrow it?”

“I tried. He just laughed at me. Never really answered. I thought maybe it would be okay.”

My heart clenched at her childish naïveté. She couldn’t be more than fifteen. I wanted so badly to know her story. More than that, I wanted to magically take heraway from this life she’d been living. Bring her home with me.

I had to shove that away. I can’t go abducting kids. But maybe I could help her.

“Shay,” I said. “Are you supposed to be in school right now?” I don’t know when the winter holidays start. What if I’m helping her play hooky? The trouble she could be in could be so much worse.

But at that, Shay’s lips pulled tight. Suddenly, it was like night and day. “I gotta go,” she said, taking Betty from me. She wheeled the bike out of the mud with a grunt.

I had to hold my hands tight in front of me to stop from begging her to wait. To let me help somehow. But what could I do?

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” I said. “I promise.”

She ignored me, yanking on her helmet.

I backed away, off the side of the track, to the grassy edge. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t even tell her I’d be back here. Shay swung her leg over Betty.

Or could I?

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I said. “I can give you pointers, if you want.”

Shay looked up at me, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I’d reached her. If she’d decide I was trustworthy. But she just kicked the starter. At least, she tried to, and missed. She did it again. And again.

Betty was down.

“Can I try?”

“No!”

This went on another few minutes, until, finally, shegot off the bike. “Fine,” she said, just a mumble from the helmet.

I went over to try to start Betty. I used all my old tricks. I ignored the pain in my shoulder—and the sharp pain in my chest at the feeling of Betty’s familiar shape under me.

But it was no use. I suspected I knew what was wrong, but it would take more tools than we had here, which was zero, to fix it.

---