Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
“Max?!”
“In the flesh,” he says with a big grin.
“A motorcycle?” I’m impressed. “I didn’t peg you as a guy who’d drive one.”
He pats the seat behind him. “Hop on.”
“What, me? On that thing?”
“Yeah, why not?”
I lift a hand. “No thanks.”
I’d rather not jump on a motorcycle with a stranger, and especially not one who’s part of the Skull and Serpent Society.
“Well, that’s too bad because it gets cold going this fast,” he says before putting on his helmet again.
Suddenly, he doesn’t look so dorky anymore with that leather outfit. Damn, it really fits him nicely.
“See you down at Sammy’s Sandwich Shop, then.” He lowers the visor and hits the gas. “Race you there!”
I laugh as he bolts off, and I hop on my bike. The drive down the mountain is easy; it’s the way up that always makes me question why I ever enrolled here. But I love the carefree days like these, letting the wind sweep through my hair as I race toward Crescent Vale City down below.
When I’m finally at the shop, of course Max’s motorcycle has already been parked out front, and he’s sitting smugly by a table, waving at me like I’m fashionably late.
I roll my eyes and wave back, then head inside.
“Nice of you to finally join me,” he jests.
I sit down on the seat next to him. “Ha-ha. I’m just glad I didn’t die going down the mountain.”
“Hey, I drive safely and responsibly,” he retorts. “You’re just scared, and you won’t admit it.”
“Sure, I’ll admit it.” I shrug. “I don’t get on motorcycles with strangers.”
“Whoa.” He puts his hand against his heart. “You think I’m a stranger?”
His obvious sarcasm makes me laugh, and I give him a playful shove.
“No worries, I get it,” he says.
“I didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy into motorcycles, though,” I say.
He leans back. “I just love the freedom my bike gives me. Swerving down the roads, enjoying the breeze.” He sighs. “Anyway, are you hungry?”
He calls the server over, and we both order our sandwiches. My stomach is still rumbling, and when it finally gets here, the smell alone makes my mouth water.
I only came along because I was hungry. I don’t want my friends to know I don’t have the money to buy my own. I struggle to keep up the image, but I don’t want them to find out the truth. Especially not now that my life has gotten even more difficult. All the money I had leftover I gave to my neighbor Mrs. Schwartz so she would agree to watch over Cora and keep her safe.
Safe from them.
But now I’m sitting here in a sandwich shop with one of them.
Can I even trust him?
The sandwich he bought for me looks amazing, but I’m hesitant to taste it.
“Go on,” Max eggs me on. He smiles, the dimples in his cheeks too cute to look away. “I know you’re hungry. Just eat. I promise, you’ll feel much better afterward.”
I take a deep breath and pick up the sandwich. My growling stomach begs me to give it something to digest, and it’s very, very hard to ignore with this delicious bread filled with teriyaki chicken right in front of me.
Fine. Eating one sandwich won’t hurt, right?
I take a bite and nearly cry happy tears from how good it tastes.
“And?” Max asks. “Good, right?”
I swallow it swiftly, only to chomp on the next bite like a starving animal, nodding between. “God, it’s so good.”
He smiles proudly. “See? Told you.”
“You come here often?” I ask.
“Once a week. Maybe more.”
“Wow. I’m impressed,” I say, taking a sip of the iced tea he also ordered for me.
“I’m a simple man. When I find food I like, it’s all I can think about for like a whole month before I move on to the next thing.”
“Interesting.”
“I have a very particular palate,” he says, laughing at himself. “That’s what happens when your dad is a chef. You get picky.”
“Your dad’s a chef?”
“Yeah, and famous too. Chef Fletcher. You never heard of him?” He takes another bite of his sandwich. “He’s on all those cooking shows.”
“Oh no, I don’t watch television.” I take another bite too, trying not to look embarrassed. If he only knew.
“What? Like … none?”
I shrug. “No time.” It’s partly true, at least.
“Here.” He pulls up his phone and shows me a YouTube video of his dad, and his smile honestly reminds me of Max so much.
“Aw … that’s cute,” I say. “He seems very nice.”
“Oh yeah, he wouldn’t hurt a fly on the wall,” Max says. “He’s the coolest ever, and most of my half siblings would agree.”
“You’ve got more than just one?” I frown.
He nods and counts them out loud on his fingers. “There’s Elliot, my brother, then there’s Levi Torres, my older half brother, and Sunny Reed, my older half sister. My mom has three partners. They’re poly.”