Ali looked down at here cellphone. Travis had sent her nine text messages. The cellphone chimed. She sighed then decided to read this one. "Come over! We can work this out!"
"Whatever," she said at the cellphone then threw it into the car. It landed on top of her overnight bag lying in the passenger seat. It was all she could get together while she argued in text messages with Travis about whether or not she should share a summer house on the bay with her sorority sisters. Travis had been adamant that her friends were bad influences and were bound to ruin all the progress she'd made.
She scoffed at his words again. Progress. If squeezing herself into the confines of the perfect little box Travis wanted her in was progress, then it wasn't worth it. The argument meant he didn't trust her and could never love her for who she was. Ultimately, he could never forget who she used to be, the Ali who loved to have a good time on her back with anybody anywhere. The realization made her blood boil. She started the car. The tires squealed when Ali pulled out of the driveway.
Travis' words ran over and over in her mind. Ali flicked on the radio to drown them out.
"The forecast for today is going to be blazing hot this early in the summer. 103 degrees by the afternoon. If you're headed to the bay don't be in a rush. Traffic is at a crawl along I90."
Ali jabbed the seek button on the radio until she found a good song. She was twenty minutes from the interstate at this point. She figured she should enjoy cruising at top speed while she could. The windows were down. The wind blew through her Mustang, causing strands of her sandy blonde hair to whip across her face. It didn't take long for the small lashings to get annoying. She pulled a hair tie off the shifter. With the aid of the rearview mirror Ali pulled her hair into a top knot.
Before Ali turned her complete attention back to the road she saw four motorcyclists coming over the hill behind her. Two riders shared each lane. Every time she looked into the rearview mirror they closed the distance. Two riders sped up to ride her bumper. One raced to catch up then pulled his bike into a wheelie. He rode it for several yards passed her car.
"Crazy bastards," Ali thought.
Each rider tried to best the other. Their daring made her slow down. The first rider rode along side Ali and looked over at her. He was wearing a helmet with Viking horns airbrushed on the sides. The visor kept her from making out his face but the form of his body told her he was young. They looked at each other before he sped up to catch his buddies. He motioned to another rider then gestured in her direction. The other guy pulled into the open lane and slowed down enough to keep pace with Ali. The visor on this helmet was up. Ali looked into his light colored eyes before he pulled away. The wind picked up his t-shirt and made it bellow behind him like an angry flag. His back was muscular and deeply tan. The motorcyclists darted around cars, playing a high speed version of follow-the-leader. Ali remained behind them at a safe distance, only speeding up when they threatened to leave her sight.
Ali saw the Viking look back at here before motioning to the upcoming exit. The exit for the bay was in four more exits. She gazed at bare backs and arms as she pulled into the left lane. They exited. She continued on. Her fingers tapped the steering wheel. Ali glanced at the rearview mirror. She watched the last rider climb the off ramp and disappear.
"Fuck!"
Ali took the first available exit and doubled back. She crossed the overpass and spotted the four guys parked at a gas station. Her heart was pounding. Ali circled around the pumps until the pump directly across from the bikers was open. She shut off the engine and sat there, her hands clinched around the steering wheel. She watched her knuckles go white then let go.
Ali fished out her credit card and exited the car. The transaction completed. She pumped the gas with her foot propped on the rear tire. She tilted her head to one side and in a well practiced motion she freed her hair, shook it loose then stared at the bikers. A smile spread across her face as she surveyed them. She hadn't noticed before that two of them wore matching shirts, both with the sleeves cut off. One had a tattoo that bleed down his arm from shoulder to wrist in vibrant colors. The other's arms and legs were long and lanky. He propped the Viking helmet on his hip which seemed to help his jeans from slipping down passed a nonexistent ass.
"Hey 'Stang,"
The rider that spoke had a shaven head with only a fuzz of light brown hair sprouting up. He was seated on his bike wearing a black leather jacket with red sleeves. It was unzipped with no shirt underneath. Ali could see how flat his stomach was. In heat like this she knew he had to be breaking a sweat. She ignored the click from the pump handle. The other guys turned to see who he was talking to. In quick succession their expressions changed from curiosity to something more.
"Need some help with that?" One of them said as he stalked toward her.
Ali held the gaze of the biker seated on his motorcycle then said, "No. I got this."
"Headed to the bay?" The lanky one asked. "'Cuz we are."
"Yeah. I'm going that way."
"Come hang with us. We're thinking about getting the weekend started out at my place first," said the guy in the leather jacket. His smile was broad and showed about every tooth in his mouth, clean and white.
Ali couldn't help smiling back. "Let's do it."
"Follow us," he said.
"If you can keep up," the skinny guy said.
"Had no problem so far."
The tattooed one punched the skinny one in the shoulder and laughed before they mounted their bikes.
They donned their helmets, started their engines and took off with hardly a look back at Ali. She had the car in drive as they pulled onto the on ramp. The guy in the leather jacket looked back at her then waved her on. She had to make a much more ardent effort to keep up this time. They didn't play any games on the interstate on the way. They had their bodies low against their bikes and the throttle down. Ali was shocked they didn't pass a trooper.
They left the interstate. A short drive later they were making their way up a long driveway to a trailer. Tall weeds grew up around the skirting but the yard was clear and well maintained otherwise. Each rider parked their bikes off to one side. Ali followed suit.
The guy in the leather stood by the small deck, waiting for her.
"I'm Mike by the way."
"Ali."
Mike looked her up and down then huffed. "This here's my boy Dean, Smithy, and the little guy over there is Stu."
