Page 82 of Dare You to Run
“Yo Henny. You ready?” Malik barges through my front door, yelling into the vast space.
“Bedroom,” I shout back and continue to pack my bag.
His steps echo as he crosses the tile and they turn into a whisper when they reach the carpet of my bedroom.
“I appreciate the invitation, Henny, but you know my dick don’t play like that. I’m flattered. Truly.” He comes in and collapses on my bed, wrinkling the neatly made bed. “What are you doing? We’re just going for a ride. I don’t think you’ll need your toothbrush.”
“I’m going to see Dagen,” I tell him, while continuing to pile items into my bag.
“Woah. Hey. It’s Thursday night ride. You’re not missing it again. It’s time for you and Danté to squash this shit. I can’t take any more of you two ignoring each other and putting me in the middle.”
Danté and I haven’t spoken since the day we ended up in jail after fighting like two wild dogs. He has yet to apologize, and I have nothing to say I’m sorry for. I do feel bad for sticking Malik right in the thick of it.
“I’m sorry, Mal. I really am. I just don’t think I can face him without punching his front teeth out.” I decide to pack a pair of swim trunks in case we want to go down to the pool at the hotel for a dip in the hot tub.
“Man, you don’t have to talk to him. I’ll ride between you two and words, or fists, don’t need to be exchanged. Please, Henny. I just want to have a nice ride with my brothers and to pretend that everything is normal.”
His eyes plead with me to fold and I know it’s going to take me being the bigger person to at least be civil enough to ride. Malik is right that we don’t even have to talk. Once my helmet is on, it’s just me and my bike.
“Alright. Let me change.” He jumps off the bed and raises his arms in the air like a kid who just beat a tough level on a video game.
I huff and shake my head, then get my black riding pants and meet Mal out in the garage to suit up. With the push of a button, my bike comes alive and we peel out of my driveway to meet up with brother number three. If you can even call him that. Right now he’s more like a guy I don’t know. One I wouldn’t want to know.
The highway stretches out in front of us and the world passes us by as we speed down the open road. The sun set about twenty minutes ago and the lights have come alive as the sky turns navy blue.
When we drove to Danté’s house, I sat parked on the curb while Malik got him. I didn’t take off my helmet, I didn’t stop my bike. I just sat with my bike idling, waiting for the two of them to come flying out.
Danté didn’t even acknowledge me. At least I don’t think he did. I barely passed him a glance as they approached, then quickly focused back on the quiet street. D headed out in front and I fell into line right behind Mal and we were off.
The ride has been everything I’ve needed. Aside from Dagen who seems to calm the riot in my head, I’ve had nothing but worry on my mind. She’s barely talking to her parents –her dad not at all– and I can tell it’s really affecting her. I can hear the despair in her voice every time we talk.
Sure, she’s always happy to talk to me, but some of the joy is missing. A little bit of her light has been dimmed and I need to do something to fix that. I have an idea, I’m just hoping it doesn’t land me in the hospital with a bullet hole in my body.
The warm air sneaks into parts that are uncovered by my gear, and it only serves to heat my already hot flesh. The cars come and go and we take turns speeding up and slowing down as we run into traffic. I need a little more room to just breathe, and speed up past both of them, finding a long stretch of open road. I rev my engine, the loud wail drowning out the turmoil still lingering thick between D and I.
The speaker in my helmet plays one of Dagen’s Lana Del Rey songs and I don’t care if it seems like I’m a whipped bitch. It’s a piece of her that brings me solace. I know the feelings I have for her are more than lustful. I need her more and more with eachpassing day. And every day we spend apart is like a hot knife into my gut.
I can’t explain it, but there’s this feeling in my gut that has sat heavy for weeks.
Malik switches lanes to be in front of me and he points his hand towards the exit. Danté and I follow, quickly seeing what pulls him from our ride. The bright lights of our favorite burger stand, Griffin’s, beckons him in. I’d like to argue and tell him I’m going home, but my stomach is gnarly right now.
The parking lot is full of cars at this little stand that has only a couple of picnic tables and a small order window. Our bikes are lined up in a row and we all remove our helmets, hanging them from the handles. I keep a bit of distance between myself and the other two, looking around at the guests who are either eating, or waiting impatiently for their order.
Malik bounces on his toes, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips just thinkin’ about the food he has yet to order. I scan the menu despite knowing what I want, but it’s a decoy so that I don’t have to engage with Dante.
“Mal said you’re going to see Dagen in the morning? Are you planning on moving there?” Danté sneaks up behind me while I stay laser focused on the menu and catches me off-guard.
With my attention still diverted, I answer. “Yeah. I’m leaving tonight and stopping half way. I need to make it in early and stop somewhere before I see Dagen. And no,” I finally look at him. “I’m not moving there.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and work my hardest to hold my tongue.
“But you’ll probably move there, eventually.”
I commend myself for keeping my trap shut as long as I did and let it just fly.
“What’s it to you if I do or don’t? You’ve been very clear on your dislike for Dagen, and if being with her means having to move away from Cattywump Bay, then so be it.”
“I never said I don’t like Dagen,” he counters.
