Ride or Die

Chapter 9 - The what?

"I'm so fucking proud of you" Elias says, engulfing me in his arms and spinning me around.

The familiar sound of cheers and clapping fills my ears and my smile widens.

I take off my helmet, looking around. Everyone is there, cheering for me.

This feeling of pure happiness overwhelms me and I try to contain my tears, but when Kicks places a hand over my shoulder and says "You did good, kid," I can't help it. A tear slides down my cheek.

Elias throws me over his shoulder. "Let's fucking celebrate!" he shouts, slapping my ass.

An hour later, we reach the cabin, but something's different. There are three more cars in the driveway. A bunch of bikes that weren't there before rest against the garage wall and on the stands. And the sound of shouting and laughter drifts off from the main building.

"They're here," Jack says as he gets off the truck.

"Who?" I ask, grabbing my gear and following him out.

Everyone leaves the cars and goes inside, not even bothering to take out the gear and the bikes.

I follow them inside, completely oblivious to who is they.

As I'm making my way to the cabin, jogging to keep up with them I remember something Elias said when I got here. The rest of the team won't arrive until the end of the month.

Today is the end of them month I realize as I step inside.

Nearly twenty people crowd the kitchen and living room. Greeting and hugging each other, smiling.

I just stand at the door, uneasiness flooding my veins as the seconds tick by. I turn around to make my way back to the truck and collect my gear when someone I hear my name.

"Sophie! Come here!" Mr. Emiliano calls with a hand in the air, motioning for me to hurry.

I make my way inside, seeing Kicks standing next to the team manager. I reach them with a smile. "Hello Mr. Emiliano. Kicks."

Mr. Emiliano looks to Kicks, an amused look on his face. "Has she figured out why we call you that?"

What?

Kicks chuckles and my jaw falls to the floor. Kicks is capable of emotions?

"I guess that's a good sign, then," Mr. Emiliano says, his expression sobering. "How's she doing?"

Kicks looks at me, a half-smile still adorning his lips, before turning to Mr. Emiliano again. "I don't want to say it in front of her," he says, and my stomach drops. "Her ego is already big enough."

Mr. Emiliano laughs when he sees my worried expression. "Don't worry, kid. We're not sending you home," he assures me, giving my shoulders a squeeze.

I'm still recovering from the scare Kicks gave me when someone gets on top of the kitchen counter.

"Who wants to go ride some bikes?!" a girl yells. Shouts and hurrahs immediately follow. They start clearing the house, making their way to the garage to get their bikes and gear.

Two hours later, we arrive at the top of the mountain. Everyone had geared up in the trucks, too excited to ride some Whistler tracks as they called it.

Even though I rode in the morning, I'm just as eager to ride.

I take my bike from the truck and do a quick check-up. After concluding everything is good to go, I hop on.

The familiar buzz of adrenaline already coursing through my veins.

"Nice helmet," a guy says, taping my pink and blue sparkling helmet, and I grin.

I make my way to the commotion of people crowding a trail entrance. I try to find the origin of the commotion, but I'm just too short to see anything, and the noise too loud to make out any words.

But then people start to call out my name, and I get thrusted to the center.

What I see there chocks me to the core.

Kicks. In a pink gear. Grinning like an idiot.

Someone places their hand under my chin and presses up, closing my mouth.

"Like the color," I marveled, trying to keep a smile from appearing on my lips.

"Me too," he begins, clicking his foot into the pedal. "Makes my eyes pop out."

I can't help it, I let out a laugh.

"If you catch me, I'll go easy on you for a week." I've barely registered the words when Kicks leaves the start line, rushing down the track.

I click my foot into the pedal and press down, hurrying after him.

I don't really want him to go easy on me, but I'm not about to let this opportunity go.

I've never ridden down this track before, and I have a feeling that's exactly why he chose it.

I rush down the track, barely registering anything.

My vision sharpens on the pink blob riding in front of me. Trees and dust blurring behind as I ride down.

I've been riding for less than a minute, but my legs are already feeling the strain. I keep pushing.

Pedaling on the straits, and riding into the curves, barely braking. I pump my bike, gaining speed for the jump ahead.

I bend my knees, popping just as I reach the end of take-off.

I'm airborne, whipping my bike just for the kick of it.

I grin as I land. "Wohoooo," I shout, popping my bike and doing a wheelie down a part of the track.

Kicks is still a good fifteen feet in front of me, and I rush down the track, my head missing a tree for half an inch. But it just kicks the adrenaline higher.

I push harder, my legs burning, my fingers beginning to twitch on the brakes.

I see a jump section ahead and my grin widens.

I don't even care that I have mud all over my face, or that my nose is freezing in the cold winter air.

My brain has renounced control, and my body has taken over.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the happiness flooding my chest overpower everything else.

I see the end of the track just as I reach the first jump.

If I bail I might catch Kicks.

I ponder it for half a second.

I don't.

I jump.

"Yes!" Kicks yells as he reaches the end of the track.

I reach the end a couple seconds later, hopping of my bike and dropping to the floor.

"Get ready, kid." Kicks says, a grin forming on his lips. "Tomorrow the real training begins."

The what?