Without Columbia, her entire future would fall apart.
Ben palmed Erin’s glutes, pulling her closer. She turned her head away as he kissed her ear.
“If I can’t captain the team, that leaves a huge void in my college applications. I can’t swim JV as a senior.” She searched his face for a glimmer of understanding.
“Why not? Your times are the same either way. And I don’t care if you’re JV or V.” He breathed heavily in her ear and tugged at the waist of her shorts. “Well, I care about your ‘v.’ I care about your ‘v’ a whole lot.”
“Ben!” She whipped around to find Ben’s neighbor leaning on his rake, staring.
Ben maneuvered himself between the neighbor and Erin, her Fiat blocking them from the waist down. Erin’s core pulsed as Ben slipped his hands up her shorts, brushing her upper thigh. She loved that Ben made her body hum.
“I cannot wait for our long limo ride tomorrow night,” he said.
“We don’t have to wait that long, do we?”
“Nope. I have an amazing surprise for you tonight.” Ben kissed her between words.
“What is it?”
“Can’t ruin the surprise! Call it an early birthday present.”
She loved surprises. “How about a hint?”
A cobalt sedan reversed into the driveway and Ben retracted his hand to wave. Erin readjusted her outfit.
“I’ll show you tonight. Gotta go to Jamie’s.” Ben and his best friends had plastered their cars with bumper stickers for radio stations, music shops, and cringeworthy phrases like MAYBE THE HOKEY POKEY IS WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT. When they drank too much, they often crooned “The Hokey Pokey,” sometimes removing articles of clothing instead of the usual motions.
Ben pecked Erin’s cheek. “Sorry to get you all hot and bothered.”
“I’m sure you are. Text me when you’re on your way to Lalitha’s.”
Ben walked backward toward the car, his eyes still on Erin. “I’m sure we’ll have things to say before that.”
Erin arrived home to an empty house and a note from her parents. Sailing with Heather and Paul! One hour of cello, one draft of admissions essay in my inbox, and all homework done or you can’t sleep over at Lalitha’s.
Privately, Erin added Spend the rest of the day on intensive worry about your college prospects before making a snack and heading to her room in silence.
FORTY-SEVEN
Felicity was going to Wellington for three days to meet her brand-new niece. As Hamish loaded her luggage into the Nissan, Erin said, “May I try out your bike while you’re gone?”
“It’s not a mountain bike,” Felicity said.
“I’d like to try biking to school so I don’t have to stick to the bus schedule.”
Felicity pulled her helmet off the wall and handed it to Erin. “Think you can suss this out?”
“I’m sure I can.”
“Careful on the roundabout. There are signs for bikers. Use the footpath on the bridge, then take care when crossing roundabout exits. Drivers will watch out for you, but it’s tricky. Do not try to use the roundabout as a car might.”
“Got it,” Erin said. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Erin was stunned by the straightforward transaction. She often had to convince Claire she’d already agreed to something to get her to agree to it. If Erin claimed to have received a green light while Claire was at work, on the phone, working out, or otherwise occupied, Claire never refuted it. She knew she was always distracted, and Erin took full advantage.
Yes, she was a bit of a manipulator back home, but she needn’t be one here. Here, more importantly, she would become a biker.
With each gust of wind, Erin’s skirt flew up. For several minutes, she held the hem to keep her underwear private. At the bridge, she gave up. Underwear was practically a swimsuit, and half the world had seen her dressed down to that. She rolled up the waist of her skirt and biked away. It was freezing. Christchurch mornings.
Getting to school was easier than she’d expected, and the roundabout signage was no trouble.
At Ilam, Erin surveyed the treasure trove of bicycles to the left of the administration building. Swathes of students chatted as they unbuckled their helmets and parked for the day. No bikes were locked.
They were either trusting or stupid, and she couldn’t afford to be either with Felicity’s new bike. She locked it to the huge, metal structure.
Good decision. No bus ride. Not using her bus card meant she didn’t have to find time to refill it, either. She hadn’t been sardined into the back of the bus. And she could bike to The Roxx far more easily than transferring buses.
“Waited for you at the bus stop this morning,” Marama said at lunch.
“I biked today.”
“No kidding. Mind if I borrow it to run to Bush Inn? I bused today and I’m dying for sushi.”
What could go wrong?
“Sure. No worries.”
Erin walked Marama to the bike rack and unlocked the bike. “It’s 0-9-1-9. You have to lock it up at Bush Inn, okay?”
Marama agreed and was off.
Being the one with the bike was cool.
Ruby’s guitar trio fumbled through “Under the Bridge” as Erin settled back into her corner. It had taken her ages to learn that riff; she should offer to help them.
Giving up, they switched to original music. Words were never Erin’s forte, but these musicians were rhyming a capella with stellar. Stella! Pure brilliance.
Marama wasn’t back with the bike when the bell rang for fourth period. Erin rushed to class, the bike on her mind.
She texted Marama and didn’t hear back.
Bush Inn wasn’t that far away. Maybe Marama had an accident. Or totaled the bike.
Shit, shit, shit.
Erin stood outside her classroom door until the very last second. Still no sign of Marama.
Erin didn’t see her between classes, and she was absent from literature.
By last period, Erin was in full-on panic mode.
