Page 34 of The Outsider
“She won’t be alone,” Kimmy murmured. “I’ll watch her.”
John grunted noncommittally in response, but Kimmy smiled.
“You two deserve proper rest,” she said at a normal volume. “And dare I say, some alone time?”
She gave an exaggerated wink, and heat rose to my cheeks as a new wave of shame washed over me. I doubted that John had any desire to be alone with me at the moment. I’d ruined things between us for what I thought was a good reason—saving the life of my best friend. Except that best friend, so far, seemed content to mostly pretend I didn’t exist. I could only assume that she was still working through her shock. A lot had changed in the space of only a day.
We passed through a tiny village, and though it seemed deserted, we remained on alert. As we walked down the small main street, I spotted something that made me stop dead: a faded, peeling sign on the back of a small shop. The English word had chipped away, but under it, it saidVélos. Below it sat accordion-style garage door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years.
John followed my gaze. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I answered slowly. “But I think that may be a bicycle shop. And it looks untouched.”
His eyebrows rose with sudden interest, and we walked over to the shuttered garage. There was a small gap between the garage door and the ground, but it was too tight tosqueeze under.
“You speak French, Claire?” Kimmy asked, intrigued.
“Petit peu.” (A little bit.)
“She’s better than she’d say she is,” Asha said with an eyeroll. “Her dad was bilingual, and I’m pretty sure he made her read a ton of dusty old books in French.”
“Madeis a strong word,” I said, shrugging. “I can’t really speak it, but I can read most things.”
John grabbed the bottom of the door and gave it a hard pull upwards. I winced as the rusty hinges screamed as if in pain. The door moved maybe an inch.
“Little help here, ladies?”
Ultimately, it took all four of us to force the door high enough that we could duck under it. Thankfully, what awaited us on the other side was worth it. I shone my flashlight over the walls, where half a dozen bikes hung.
“Jesus, Claire,” John said with a delighted chuckle. “Nice work.”
I smiled weakly, and he touched my shoulder before dropping a peck on my forehead. I warmed a little; maybe he wasn’t as mad at me as I thought. We examined the bikes, then used leftover tools in the bike shop to scrub away whatever rust we could, pump up tires, and replace broken chains with spare parts.
Judging by the undisturbed dust, no one had been here in a long time, and it wasn’t a mystery as to why: with no food, medicine, or weapons inside, it wouldn’t be a scavenger’s first choice. When all was said and done, we had four working mountain bikes with cargo racks, along with extra bike supplies for the trip. Fortunately, all of us had ridden before, and as we took off down the crumbling pavement of the main street, I couldn’t help but let out a giggle of exhilaration. It’d been a long time since I’d gone any faster than my legs could carry me.
The sun was setting as John rode up beside me; his face had broken into a grin at my giggle. The other two followed behind us, but he paid them no mind.
“I’ll race you,” he said, a teasing note to his voice, and he pointed to the end of the road ahead of us. “Whoever makes it past the edge of town first wins.”
“Wins what?” I asked, amused.
“You’ll just have to find out by winning, won’t you?”
Without another word, he sped up, pulling ahead of me. With another laugh, I followed, determined to at least lose with dignity.
We made camp as soon as we found a suitably secluded spot in the woods. I helped John put up the tent, while Kimmy and Asha built a fire. They were deep in conversation by the time we finished. John and I may as well not have existed. I was tired of Asha ignoring me, and I desperately needed to wash myself and my clothes before dark. John agreed to accompany me to a nearby creek, but his demeanour had returned to stoic and silent.
I rinsed out my spare clothes in the small stream, lathering with a hard lump of soap I’d made before we left the trailer camp. John stayed quiet, listening carefully to the woods around us as he washed his clothes alongside me. Once we’d hung them to dry on a nearby tree branch, I decided to finally break the silence.
“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” I murmured.
John gave a heavy sigh and didn’t speak for a moment, staring into the water.
“More worried than mad,” he eventually replied. “We have another mouth to feed now, and another person to somehow explain when we get to the Valley. I’m worried about Kimmy because she seems…very taken with Asha. And about you.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked with a frustrated laugh. “Your friend that abandoned you appears in your life again, and you care about her so much that you’d deliberately push my buttons to make sure she’s safe. And how does she thank you? She stays right on her mean-girl bullshit, likeyou’vedone something to offendher.”
