Motorcycle Babe

Aftermath

Raven

I can't explain why I did what I did. Usually, I let the world burn and just roast marshmallows over the flames, but seeing that sack of s**t towering over her and spitting that "lesbian w***e" name in her face... it pushed me over the edge. I don't know what the hell we are to each other anymore, but I'll be damned if I let a guy like Tyler Erickson talk to her like that.

Russell sat in his chair, staring at me like I was a puzzle he'd given up on years ago. Usually, he'd be screaming, threatening expulsion, or calling the cops. Instead, he just rubbed his temples and let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Raven," he started, his voice flat. "Did you intend to break Erickson's nose, or was that just an unfortunate accident?"

"Depends on how much you like his face," I said, leaning back and propping my combat boots straight onto his mahogany desk. "He was looking a little too symmetrical for my taste."

"Take your feet off. I just wiped that down," he said calmly.

I blinked, pulling my boots down. Now I was officially weirded out. "You okay, Russell? You're acting like you've been drugged. Did someone put a Xanax in your morning donut?"

"No," he said, staring at the file on his desk. "I'm just confused as to why the hell someone like Gabriella Alvarez would come rushing up to me in the hall, begging me to go easy on you."

My heart did a stupid, violent somersault against my ribs. She defended me? The resident "Good Girl" went to bat for the school's favorite disaster?

"So, what's the verdict?" I asked, trying to keep my voice completely flat and unbothered. "Suspension? Expulsion? A medal?"

"Normally, I'd give you a week of after-school detention," Russell sighed, leaning back in his leather chair and looking at me with something surprisingly close to pity. "But considering everything you've been through... and the fact that it's the first damn day of school... I'm letting it go with a warning." He pointed his pen at me sternly. "No more fights, Raven. I'm serious. Go to class."

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered, grabbing my bag. "Can I hit the nurse's office first? My lip is starting to look like a botched Botox job, and I've got a reputation to uphold."

He waved me off, and I bailed. I didn't actually want to see the nurse—I wanted to hop on my bike, rip down the highway, and ride until I hit another state—but I needed an ice pack before my face became unrecognizable.

As I rounded the corner near the gym lockers, I saw her.

Gabby was standing there, leaning against the tile wall. I figured she was waiting for Tyler—ready to forgive the "Golden Boy" for being a homophobic prick—but when her eyes met mine, her whole face lit up. She actually pushed off the wall and walked straight toward me.

Great. Just great. I wasn't in the mood to be a hero, and I definitely wasn't in the mood to feel things.

We stopped about a foot apart. The silence between us was heavy as lead. I felt like a stray dog that had accidentally done a trick, and now she was supposed to give me a treat.

"You waiting around to give me a medal, Alvarez?" I smirked, leaning back against the cold lockers to hide how fast my heart was racing. "You're supposed to be in class. Russell catches you out here with me, he's not gonna be so nice."

"Hey," she blushed, her cheeks turning that soft, pretty shade of pink I used to know better than my own name. "Um... I wanted to thank you. For what you did back there."

I shrugged, looking past her down the hallway. "Don't overthink it, Alvarez. I just hit him because he needed a beating."

"He was screaming at me, Raven," she said softly, stepping into my space. "And you dropped him before I could even process it."

My throat went dry, my heart hammering against my ribs. Focus, dumbass. Keep her away.

"Doesn't matter who it was," I lied smoothly, shoving my hands deep into my leather jacket pockets. "Besides, shouldn't you be in class? Good girls aren't supposed to loiter."

"I got a pass," she murmured, her eyes locked on mine. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Now I was officially spiraling. She'd never talked to me like this. Not since... before. Girls are confusing as s**t, but Gabby was the final boss. Does she remember something? Or is her body just reacting to me on pure instinct?

"Hanging around me can get you in a lot of trouble, Alvarez," I warned, shifting my weight.

"Oh, really?" she murmured.

She took a step closer—close enough that the scent of her vanilla perfume hit me like a physical force. Before I could process the movement, she reached out, her fingers softly stroking my cheek and tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

I flinched and backed away so fast my shoulders slammed hard into the metal lockers behind me. My skin felt like it was on fire where her fingers had grazed me. No one touches my hair. Not unless we're mid-hookup and I've already shut my brain off to survive it. Her touch brought back a specific, suffocating kind of memory—a warmth I'd spent two long years trying to drown in leather, alcohol, and gasoline.

I quickly adjusted my hair and slung my bag higher over my shoulder, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "I gotta go."

I started walking toward the exit, my boots heavy against the linoleum. But I couldn't help it. I had to look back.

She was still standing there in the middle of the hallway, looking dazed and flustered, watching me walk away. I could've said something. I could've told her to throw her bag on the back of my bike, skip the rest of this hellhole, and ride away with me like we used to.

But I kept walking. We have to keep our distance, because no matter how much she forgets or how many times I try to convince myself I'm over it, the truth is simple:

I still love her.