FAUX REAL

3

Christ, my head is pounding. I better not have a fucking concussion. All I want to do is drop off this damn bike, pop an Advil, and take a hot shower. I continue to push the bike up the quad, not wanting to go the long way to the auto shop. In the corner of my eye, a girl with long blonde hair wearing a Hilton uniform is sauntering towards me, her dolled up face plastered with curiosity and purpose.

"Hi, excuse me," she says, stopping in front of me, her eyes giving me a slow once-over. "But-"

"You're excused, love," I say, steering the motorcycle around her. I'm so done with today.

Her mouth slightly drops. "Wait, stop!" she commands, holding out her arm and blocking my path.

"Really?" I scoff. "Make me."

She tosses me an unimpressed glare, coiling her fingers around my handlebars. "Like this?"

I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes darkening. "Don't touch my motorcycle."

She tilts her head. "Don't ignore me when I tell you to stop."

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" I scowl at her, meeting her combative doe eyes.

"I'm lisa manoban and you're not allowed to have this-" Motion to the motorcycle. "Thing, on school grounds."

Did she just- Oh, no fucking way.

I lower the kickstand with my foot, shaking my head. Time for a little lesson. "This thing is a Royal Enfield Bullet. This motorcycle is a piece of British history, an icon if you will."

She blinks then lets out a quiet chuckle. "I don't care if this motorcycle belonged to Prince Harry himself, it's not allowed on school property."

I suppress a laugh. "Prince Harry? Really?"

"Yeah, he was like super into motorcycles back in the day. Shouldn't you know that seeing as your English?"

"Oh, so since I'm from the UK, I should know the pastimes of everyone in the royal family? That's just absurd."

Her lip twitches. "What's absurd is this entire conversation. Move your motorcycle off the quad." She points to the ground. "It's leaking gas all over the grass. People sit here. That's just gross."

I throw my head back and laugh. "That's oil, you idiot."

She crosses her arms, her eyes bugging out of her head. "You did not just call me an idiot. That is so rude."

I tap my index finger against my mouth. "Oh, but I think I did."

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she narrows her eyes. "Just because I'm not well versed in motorcycle gunk doesn't mean I'm an idiot. If anything you're the idiot for thinking you can talk to me like this."

I chuckle. This girl is fucking mental. "Someone's a little defensive. I take it nobody has ever called you stupid before?"

"Oh, so now I'm stupid and an idiot," she says, scrunching up her face.

"Semantics, love," I smirk. "Are you going to get out of my way now?"

Her eyes flicker with fierce determination as she lets go of my motorcycle handles and takes a step closer to me, craning her head up to meet my eyes. "Listen to me British-girl, you're clearly lost. This is Hilton Academy, a private school which means you're trespassing, so you should get going before I call security."