“If we leave now, we might make it by Christmas.” He looks down at his imaginary watch with a dimpled smirk.
I clutch my sides, laughing sarcastically. “When did you get your license?”
His lips move from side to side as if contemplating his response. “Yesterday.”
He’s joking and trying to make me feel at ease, but I’m still scared. “What if I fall?”
Suddenly turning serious, he offers me his hand. “I promise I won’t let you fall.” The sincerity behind his pledge has me stepping forward. “But if you’re afraid…”
What he’s doing is blatantly obvious, but still, I take the bait as I slap his hand away. “I’m not afraid.” I fumble with the strap under my chin, and after three attempts, it’s buckled tight. Now I must attempt to get on the bike without falling on my face.
I’m mercifully no l
