Savage Pride

8

“No. There’s no problem.” As if reconsidering, his jaw clenches. “How long will you be staying with your parents?” “A week.” He nods as if this news is acceptable, but his nostrils flare and lips thin as though he’s conflicted. “Are you helping for the weekend, or will you be at Hardwick the entire week?” Jesus Christ. He sure does know how to make a girl feel like a pariah. “I’m not here to harass you, Zeno. I hadn’t even heard about your father until I got home. I know my presence bothers you, but my mother asked for my help, and I’m sure you can find a way to ignore me. You’ve become so good at it through the years. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got work to do.” As soon as I’m done, I turn for the stairs, not giving him time for a response. I’m not interested in whatever demeaning, insensitive garbage he might want to throw at me.

Our exchange goes as poorly as every other encounter we’ve had in the past ten years. And as always, I deflate upon his departure. My shoulders slump, and my mood darkens. I am equal parts violence and sorrow. If I could hammer him with my fists and force him to remember how we used to be friends, I would. But Zeno De Rossi is not a man to be swayed. He is determined to hate me, and I am not a woman who will beg for acceptance. OceanofPDF.com Zeno, Age 13 Luisa and Nevio, Age 10 “I think we should go to the climbing tree by the lake. Or we could play hide-and-seek.” I look at Zeno and Nevio expectantly, hoping they’ll like one of my suggestions. Summer is drawing to a close, and it’s harder to find activities we all agree upon. “You need more people for hide-and-seek. Where’s Gia?” Zeno asks. I pull off a blade of green grass from the lawn beneath me. “She’s painting her nails,” I grumble. The colors are cool. I like polish as much as the next girl. But I can’t stand how long they take to dry. I don’t have the patience. Even when I do wait long enough, I inevitably chip them ten minutes later. There’s no point. I’d rather skip the wait and play outside. “We could go down to the lake,” Nevio suggests. Z tosses a small rock at the trees. “Nah, let’s go for a bike ride.” I jump to my feet. “Okay! You guys wait for me, though.” I turn to race back to my house, knowing it will take me longer to get my bike than them. I only take a few strides before Zeno calls out. “Isa, make sure you wear your helmet.” I screech to a halt and spin around. “What? Why? You never wear one.” “Don’t care. You ride with me, you wear a helmet.” “If I have to wear one, Nevio does too.” I’m not going down on this ship alone. “No way!” Nevio groans. Z smirks. “Fair enough. Now go get your bike. We’ll swing by and grab you on our way out.” I leap into action, giggling at the incredulous bellow Nevio releases behind me. Back at the house, I roll my bike out of the shed and clip on my bright red helmet. I check my tires for air, then pedal down our long driveway. The boys are waiting for me beneath a shade tree, Zeno propped against his black mountain bike, and Nevio sitting on his blue BMX style bike wearing a gray helmet and a scowl. “Let’s go up to the clubhouse, then we can coast back downhill on the way home.” Zeno throws a long, lean leg over his bike and leads the way. As the eldest, he almost always runs the show when he’s around. There are only three years between the two brothers, but it seems like more. Sometimes, Nevio challenges Z, but he rarely wins. Z is way bigger and a little scary sometimes. Nevio is scrappy, but he gets so angry that it hurts his chances. When they fight one another, which happens, Z always comes out on top. I’m happy to do whatever they decide, so long as I’m not bored and alone. The clubhouse is about half a mile from Hardwick and is a gathering facility for the community. There is a boat launch for those without water access, picnic tables, and a pier that people use for fishing. Most of the ride there is shaded by a canopy of trees, so even the uphill climb isn’t too terrible. When we arrive, we have the place to ourselves. It’s probably too hot out for anyone else, but that works for us. Z hops the curb and leads us over the grass and around the clubhouse toward the lake on the other side. As we approach the shoreline, the terrain becomes increasingly rocky, especially in the six feet or so of the bank where the water regularly rises and recedes, depending on the weather. I’m not crazy about riding over rocks, but I refuse to show weakness in front of the boys. They already treat me differently because I’m a girl—case in point, my helmet. Whining about the rocks would only make things worse. I power on along the shore behind the others until my front wheel rolls over an extra-large rock, sliding sideways and toppling me over onto the unforgiving ground. I try to catch myself but am mostly unsuccessful and land on my side with the bike draped over me. I hiss as I scoot away from the offending bike and take in my scraped hands and leg. My hip took the brunt of the fall. Fortunately, my jean shorts kept the skin there safe. The side of my knee wasn’t so lucky. The two brothers throw their bikes down and come running over. Zeno takes my hand in his and examines my wounds. “Are you okay? Is anything broken?” “I don’t think so.” I wince at the stinging now pulsing from multiple places on my body. “It just burns a bit.” Tears begin to form in my eyes, but I desperately blink them back. I’m not even sure why I’m crying. I’m not hurt that bad, but the scare has triggered my tears.