touch

“Yeah, Brad mentioned he talked to you about that. I think he was worried you wouldn’t come by again because last night got a little crazy. He thinks I need more friends.” She snorted in disbelief. “Most everyone in our school is a backstabber or a gossip. No thanks. So, can you come over?”


Glancing at the open bedroom door, thinking of Morik waiting for me in my room, I knew I couldn’t go. “I’m sorry, Beatriz, but I don’t think Morik is in the company kind of mood today.” If he didn’t like me going last night, and didn’t like Brad showing up at the Coffee Shop, it was safe to guess he wouldn’t be happy about a repeat visit.

“Aw! That sucks. If you still want to come over, I can get Tommy or Brad to pick you up and bring you back home again later.”

Looking down, I twisted my finger in the antiquated phone cord. “Thanks Beatriz, but I ditched Morik last night. I can’t do that to him two days in a row.”

Morik’s hand covered mine, stopping the agitated twisting. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I looked up in surprise not realizing he’d joined me. Beatriz squealed loudly through the phone. I jerked it away from my ear wincing. Obviously, I didn’t need to relay what he’d said. I mouthed, ‘why?’ to him.

“You could use the fun.”

“He’s right, you know,” Beatriz piped in. “You’re way too serious. Let him know that there will only be a few people here, nothing crazy like last night.”

I agreed to tell him and quickly hung up the phone. We looked at each other. I hadn’t forgotten our interrupted conversation but wasn’t sure if I wanted to revisit it. I felt like a failure thinking about it. How could the other women in my family so easily choose? Well, not everyone. Aunt Danielle understood. Maybe Morik was right. I needed to relax a little and give nature a chance to work itself out.

“Still using the motorcycle?” He nodded. “I’m going to layer then so my legs don’t freeze. Wait for me in the kitchen?” He agreed.

I found a pair of leggings, long sleeved V-neck shirt and then raided my mom’s closet for an oversized sweater. Over the leggings, I added jeans. Nothing really matched, but it would keep me warm, at least for a little while. I thought of adding another layer, but other than my pajama’s nothing would fit over the jeans.

“You need to go shopping,” Aunt Danielle commented when I stepped out into the living room.

Laughing, I shook my head. “It’s not that bad. I just don’t want to freeze again on the way over to Beatriz’s. Can you let mom know where I went? I’ll be back before nine,” I said walking toward the door. She promised she would and I followed Morik out after slipping into my jacket.

When the chill wind bit into my skin, I appreciated that the helmet at least would keep my face warm. Even with the extra layers and the scarf I’d tucked around my neck, I estimated I’d lose feeling in my feet and legs by the time we reached her house.

“Remind me why this is the transportation of choice…” I mumbled as I slipped the helmet on.

“It’s small enough that I can appear suddenly on the side of the road or in an alley with no one noticing. Cars are harder.” The visor on the helmet was still up when I paused to stare at him in surprise. I’d thought he’d done it because it was faster or maybe just because he liked motorcycles. “I didn’t realize you get so cold so easily. I’ll look for some better riding clothes for you,” he promised with a concerned look at my jacket.

His yellow glasses hid any color differences in his irises. I wondered what colors I would see if he wasn’t wearing them.

“No, that’s okay. We just won’t plan any longer rides until it warms,” I tried to joke. He didn’t smile back. Instead, he carefully closed the visor and helped me onto the bike.

I took turns with one arm around his waist and the other on my legs to prevent them from getting cold. And it worked for the most part. My legs were fine, but my hands froze quickly despite my knit mittens. I tried putting them into his jacket pocket, but they didn’t warm up. Telling myself we were only a few minutes from Beatriz’s house, I curled them into fists.

My pinky on both hands started to sting. I wiggled my hand out of the glove careful to keep my hand in his pocket. Without the glove, some of his heat seeped through the lining, but not enough to warm it. The sting intensified, and I started to worry. Brad’s comment about frostbite rang in my ears.

An option to warm my hands came to mind, and I took a moment to deliberate. Morik hadn’t seemed to mind when I touched him three nights ago. But I hadn’t been freezing cold then. Hoping he wouldn’t be upset, or worse, drive us off the road, I quickly withdrew my hand from his pocket and slipped it under the jacket sighing happily. He wore an un-tucked button up over a tee-shirt today. The tee-shirt was also free of his waistband.