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   Chapter 2 Two Vroom

My Motorcycle Guardian By Weirdo_writer Characters: 11166

Updated: 2019-06-06 16:37


"Hanna!"

I froze, one foot on the stairs. Oh Lord give me strength. Slowly, I turned around and smiled. "Hello, mother."

"Where have you been?" She snapped, striding forward in all her 5'3 glory. "And you better not give me any bull like last time!"

I gripped the stairwell. My mother hadn't even changed out of her salmon pantsuit yet, and was already yelling at me. "With Rachel, " I said slowly. "We were at the library."

She narrowed her eyes, and I held my breath. "Were you with anyone else?"

My grip tightened. "CJ..."

"Hanna!" I flinched. "You know what I think of that...that boy." She hissed, looking ready to spit venom.

I gritted my teeth. "Mom!" I took a defensive step forward. "He's my friend!"

"He's a menace! All of his kind are!"

"His kind? Mom, he's poor, not a chimera."

She shuddered and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "But sweetie, you could have so many more better friends! Like Rebecca Walters from down the street, or -"

"I don't want new friends! CJ and Hanna are my friends!"

" - or perhaps Tony? Remember Tony Brown?"

"Mom!" My voice echoed around us and my mom fell silent, glaring at me from the base of the stairs. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "CJ has been my friend since elementary. I'm not stopping just because his family isn't stupid rich!"

My mom narrowed her eyes further. I met her gaze in a silent challenge, daring her to say more. Finally, after the silence grew too long to handle, she turned away. "Fine, " she muttered. "Have a bad taste in friends. Just do yourself a favor and don't blow your date with Adam Sanders tomorrow."

I groaned and closed my eyes, tilting my head towards the ceiling. God, I had forgotten about that. And I wish I had kept it from my mind. In a desperate attempt to force me back into the social circle of the rich, my mother's favorite pass time was to set me up with the many eligible bachelors of Hellmington. Adam Sander, who was a Freshman in college, was apparently the next on her list.

Stomping up to my room, I slammed the door and dove face-first for my bed. I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, wishing there was someway to make it all go away. Wishing for a distraction. Anything to distract me.

The loud revving of an engine startled me from my thoughts. Frowning, I lifted my head and glanced at the window. It sounded like...like a motorcycle. My frown deepened. What was a motorcycle doing on our street? Rolling off my bed, I opened the doors to my balcony and peered outside.

A single sleek motorcycle purred past, the rider masked with a black helmet and visor. I tilted my head and leaned against the railing, watching as he glanced from house to house. From here, I could see a small Go-Pro strapped to his helmet. Must be new or something, I reasoned. All the people who lived in this street were old or with children to precious and behaved to ever think about climbing on the "devil machine".

He (at least, i'm assuming he is a he. Unless that jacket was bulky enough to hide a feminine figure) revved the engine again and his purple rims spun to a blur. Like a bullet, he took off. I watched him go, slightly disappointed that he hadn't stayed longer.

I turned to go back inside and wallow in my misery some more when another purring engine came from down the road. I narrowed my eyes. What the hell?

Four sleek, black motorcycles shot down the road like the four horsemen, wreathed in power and mystery. Two flipped up into wheelies while the other two spun in tight circles. My eyes widened. They were...playing. The rider with the camera drove around them, capturing it all on film. Scrambling back inside, I raced down the stairs and out the front door.

The hot concrete burned into the bottoms of my feet as I cut across our drive way and dove into the bushes. I peeked through the branches just in time to see one of them lean down close enough to touch the road and snatch a garden gnome as he flew past, tossed it to another rider, who planted it in another yard without ever slowing down. It was seamless. Flawless. Perfect. I felt my breath catch every time one of them flipped into a wheelie, spun in a circle, revved their engines. They eluded everything I was taught to fear. To stay away from.

Too bad I hated listening to my mother.

Casting a quick glance back at the house, I crawled closer for a better view. They rode without direction, tearing across the road and up peoples drive ways, riding with out choreographed movements or plans. They were just...living.

I rose to my feet and stepped closer, placing a hand against our mailbox. One of the riders suddenly caught sight of me and slowed. My heart skipped a beat and I resisted the urge to dive back into our bushes.

Oh God. Okay. Keep cool. You got this.

He tilted his helmeted head to the side, watching me. I swallowed and hesitantly waved. After a moment, he waved back with a gloved hand. I broke out into a grin and gave him a thumbs up. "You guys are great!" I yelled, realizing too late it was probably the most lame thing to shout ever.

The rider revved his engine, planting his boots firmly against the ground to keep his bike in place. The wheels spun and white smoke began to waft from the bike. My eyes widened. Painted flames rippled along his bike, so realistic that they looked hot to the touch. He tilted his head again then kicked up the brake, shooting off in a trail of white smoke.

"Hanna!" I winced. Glancing behind me, I saw my mother storming down the steps of the house,

fuming.

I swallowed. "Mom, " I blurted. "It's okay - "

"It is very not okay!" She hissed. She grabbed my arm in a steel vise grip and I flinched. "Get inside before the neighbors see!" She tried to tug me back towards the house but I dug my heels into the ground.

"Wait, I want to watch -"

"Don't talk back to me, " she snarled, tightening her grip. "Now get inside."

The street was quiet. Then, from the silence, an engine revved. I craned my neck to see over my shoulder and blanched. All five motorcycles were still, watching us. My face flushed red. "You - you guys were awesome!" I called, struggling against my mother. She yanked me harder and I stumbled back. "Keep up the great - great work!"

"Hanna!" My mother threw me forward and I toppled into the door. I spun around just in time to see her address the motorcyclist. She shook her fist at them, scowling. "Scatter!" She yelled. "Go away before I call the police!"

I hugged the door frame, watching with a heavy heart as the motorcycles drove away until it was just one rider remaining. I felt his heavy gaze upon me and averted my eyes to my shoes. It was the rider with the fake smoke and flames.

He revved his engine again and peeled off. I watched him go. My heart pounded against my ribs and I hardly heard my mother as she chastised me. Something spectacular had just taken place, I knew it. And God, I couldn't wait for more.

***

I was dragged out from sweet, sweet sleep by the loud ping of my phone. Peeling open my eyes, I rolled over and fumbled with the charger, all the while cursing whoever had texted me. The screen lit up and I raised an eyebrow.

Who was ballsy enough to text me at five in the mother-hugger morning?

Ah, it was CJ.

Husband: HANNA!

I frowned and sat up, scrubbing a hand across my eyes. Yawning, I typed out a reply.

'You better have a damn good reason for this. What's wrong? Is it your mom?'

Husband: CHECK THE LINK I SENT YOU

I scrolled back up to the first text he sent me. It was a YouTube link. I sighed.

'Can I watch it in school?'

Husband: Watch. It. I already sent it to Rachel.

As if on cue, Rachel texted me.

Wifu: HANNA WHAT THE HELL!

Did you see the video yet?

Sending a quick glance at my door, I snuggled further under the covers and pressed the link. YouTube popped up. The video buffered for a moment before the video's intro began.

Flames licked the screen while a title appeared: THE FLAME RIDERS

Well, this looked promising.

The fire disappeared as a motorcycle tore through them, and new text appeared.

Episode 26: The New Fan

I swallowed as my stomach began to churn. Okay...less promising...but nothing to worry about yet.

The video was shot from the perspective of a Go-Pro camera. Cheerful, preppy music started to play and my vision became lined with pink and blue bubbles. The video showed shots of the large, near-perfect houses lining the street. I clamped a hand over my mouth and my eyes widened. Oh no.

Just as expected, heavy rock n' roll blasted and fierce red took the bubbles' place. Four motorcycles tore down the street, doing all the tricks I had seen yesterday, now from the perspective of the fifth rider. Through my dim terror I appreciated the angels the camera showed. The Go-Pro must have been one of those fancy ones, because the video was never from an awkward angel or had a view other than the motorcycles. Surround film, maybe.

I tapped the screen, fast forwarding until the rider suddenly stilled. The flame motorcycle purred to a halt before me - me, with my ripped jeans and messy blonde hair - and showed my awkward wave and thumbs up. The other motorcycles continued to dance off to the side, but now, the video was focused on me. Well, at least the title now made sense.

The rider rode off again and the camera remained on me, capturing the look of wonder that crossed my face as I watched the motorcyclists play in the street.

When my mom came out in the video, the music died. The riders exchanged hand gestures and they all came to a halt. The camera refocused on me fighting against my mother. God, I looked pitiful. "You - you guys were awesome!" Video-me called, struggling against my mother. "Keep up the great - great work!"

My mother forced me back inside, and the camera motorcycle drove away. Two motorcycles rode in front of him, and text appeared on the screen. By now, my stomach was knotted into a tight ball.

It read: 'Perhaps we have a new fan, here in Hellmington? Who knows. But maybe the people who live here aren't as brainless as we think. ;)'

I shut off my phone. Gaping at the wall, my mind buzzed with a million thoughts at once. Who where they? Did any kids at school see this yet? Would any kids from school see this?

I put my face in my hands and groaned loudly. Suddenly numb, I picked up the phone and looked at the channel name again.

The Flame Riders.

So there was a motorcycle gang in Hellmington, and they liked to shoot videos, and I was in one of their videos. Surely no one from school will see this, I calmed myself. CJ probably found it because he likes that kind of stuff, and the rest of Hellmington High was too picture perfect to ever watch a gang of motorcycles tear apart their precious town.

With that thought, my pulse began to slow and I exhaled, flopping back against the pillows. Every thing would be okay. I would get up in an hour, go to school, probably get chastised by Rachel, but that would be it. Nothing bad would happen.

If only I believed that.

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