CHAPTER 5
Wyatt
Freedom.
Being on this back road, racing bikes with Freya, is exactly where I want to be. I hear her behind me, choking on the dust coming off my back tires, but laughing. We haven’t done this in years, and it feels really good, nostalgic even, to do this with her.
“Keep up, Fredericks!” I yell over my shoulder, standing up on the pedals of the beach cruiser I’m rocking to speed up. Hanging out with Freya could mean so many things, and tonight it meant cruising down back roads in Lake Lorelei, laughing and catching up.
This is exactly what two old friends do.When she suggested we borrow some bikes from her neighbor and go for a ride, I gotta admit it…I was a little excited. I had wanted to turn our night into something with a little more oomph to it. I actually had visions of a romantic bike ride around on country roads when she suggested it, so of course I was all in.
Bottom line? I get to spend time with her. Also, let’s note that I’m the kind of guy who wants to do this with no one ever, but with Freya it makes sense.
I realize Freya hasn't said anything for a few minutes, so I sneak a quick look over my shoulder to see if she’s still there. She is, and if I’m not mistaken, I just caught her looking at my butt. I slow down so we’re side by side, pedaling almost in sync.
“Like what you see?” Sue me. I had to ask. I’m rewarded when a soft pink flush spreads across her cheeks. I was right.
Freya keeps her eyes focused on the road in front of her. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Come on, Freya. You can’t fool me.” I speed up, angling my bicycle in front of her so she has a better view. I make sure I’m going fast enough so I can coast on the bike, allowing me time to stand up on the pedals again and give my booty a little shake. “You’ve got to admit. It’s a peach.”
Freya snickers. “Mmmm. It’s something.”
“Would you rather it be more like an apple?” I slow down so I’m beside her again. “Then I can say it’s hot like apple pie fresh from the oven?”
“You’re hilarious.” She laughs again as she speeds up and passes me on her bike, which is not a beach cruiser, I should add. Freya had picked a mountain bike to use, which is a smarter choice for these dirt roads. She’s always been a bit competitive, and she obviously wants to take off on her bike and race me. I know this girl. “I’m not a fan of apple pie. I’m more partial to a good strawberry pie, to be honest.”
Watching her speed off, I determine I’m not going to be outdone by her, no way. Not by Freya. It’s my week to get her to realize she’s in love with me—actually, more like get her to understand I’m in love with her—so I also speed up, matching her pace, keeping us next to one another on the narrow road.
“Strawberry pie. Noted. So, is it true that you’re moving back?” Too soon to ask? It’s all Maisey has been able to talk about the last few months—the possibility of Freya moving home. Only as soon as I ask, I want to take the words back. Ihate to admit it, but I’m nervous about what her answer will be.
“It’s a strong maybe. I’m still weighing my options.” Her voice is coy. “Maisey said I can stay with her for a few months until I find a place, but I don’t know yet.”
Play it cool, Wyatt.“I’d be happy to have you back.”Where’s the cool?I clear my throat. “I’m sure Maisey will like having you back, too. More than me.”
Oh man. I sound…awkward!I try to recover. “Not that I don’t want you back, I do, I just know that Maisey is your aunt. So she’ll be happy…”
I look over to Freya cracking up. “I know what you mean, dum dum. I’m not sure if I definitely want to be back here, that's the only thing. I’ve been on my own in NYC for so long, but I want to be with family and familiar things, you know? I love the city, but as soon as I’m here, in Lake Lorelei, I always realize how much of this place has made its way into my soul. It’s so peaceful here and simple, even the green in the trees can be more vibrant than the lights of the city—I love it.”
“Dylan says the same thing about life here. It’s peaceful and simple. That’s the kind of thing you take for granted when you live here, I guess.” I want to keep her talking as long as I can. Funny enough, I like listening to what she has to say and want to know more. I need to hear more.
She nods in agreement. “Kind of like when we don’t know what we have until it’s gone. That’s how I feel about Lake Lorelei. I didn’t understand my appreciation for this place until I went away.”
I feel like she could be talking about us, at least that first part of what she said. You see, I know from my end I didn’t realize what I had until she was in New York for good. When her visits home would consist of a quick catch-up during a whirlwind trip, visits that quickly faded away until the times she was coming back were fewer and fewer. Honestly, I hadresigned myself to having her be the one who got away, but now we’re here and it feels so right to be with her under the evening sky.
I’m feeling buoyed by her mere presence and, in my haste to keep being cool, I decide now’s the time to show off a little. Spying what appears to be a hardened berm on the side of the road, I decide to wow Freya with my amateur acrobatic skills and take the bike into a jump.
Now, do I know how to do this? I’ve seen it done on TV, so I’m sure that counts.
Am I truly skilled enough to pull it off? Well, we’ll just have to find out.
Feeling full of myself, I turn and slyly wink at Freya before I pedal off with the nose of my bike pointed straight at the dirt pile. It looks like it’s been there for ages, and I can see the hard crusted surface which—in my feeble mind—looks as if it can hold me and the bike. No problem.
Boy am I wrong.
As my front tire connects with the berm, I realize it’s softer than it looks. Way softer, like a plush stuffed animal. Or more like a cloud made from quicksand, because as the bike hits the dirt, it also comes to a complete and total halt.
Cue the moment where I flip over the handlebars and fall, without grace, into the ditch. The smelly, stinking ditch. I think I even scream.
