Beneath the helmet

SIBEL (12)

My mind keeps obsessing over one thing: how can I get my bike back? I have no idea why he hasn't returned it. I can't keep sneaking around with Zade's bike forever; he'll catch on sooner or later. And Lale doesn't have any ideas either—where could he have hidden it? Oh, why didn't I put a tracker on it?

Suddenly, Lale looks up from her computer and stares at me. I squint and ask, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Definitely," I reply.

I get up from her chair, hands on her hips.  she asks "The race?"

I grin. "Exactly!"

"Yes! Finally, some excitement!" she spin in her chair, beaming. "Thank goodness you agreed on your own, or I would've spent an hour convincing you!

The race is tomorrow, but I can't remember the place since I misplaced the poster. No clue where it ended up. Lale wheels her chair over to the bed, grabs her bag, and starts rummaging through it. "Voilà! Here it is," she says, pulling out the poster. I snatch it from her hand. "Where did you get this? And why?" I ask.She sighs, "I knew you'd lose it. You're so careless."I squint at her light brown eyes, suspicious. "Why?" Rolling her eyes, she flops onto the bed. "I just want some cool shots of the race. You know Nico doesn't let me go to these late-night events."I cross my arms. "So, you were planning to sneak in again?"She gives me those puppy dog eyes. "And you were going to go without me!" "Girl, my bike—mi amor—is missing, and those people have it. You should be focused on getting my bike back, not thinking about some race!" I can see her getting frustrated as I ramble on about my bike.Lying on the bed, I tease her, "Just admit it—you want to go see the boys. I know you."She lies next to me and smirks. "That's part of it. And I want to get Noa to agree to some portrait shots. You've gotta admit, he's super hot. I can even get you some pics of him if you want," she nudges me.I roll my eyes. "Who?" I ask, pretending not to know."Oh, come on! You're not that clueless. I'm talking about Turgut! He's good-looking, and he'll get me lots of clients and followers. Plus, a biker? Perfect combo.""Shut it, Lale! Don't even think about trying anything with him. You know that's off-limits." I roll my eyes again.I can't help but wonder why she's never made a move on Zade, though. She's had plenty of chances, and girls are all over him. Maybe it's because he's friends with Nico and Sid."Fine, we'll go," I say, standing up from the bed. "But first, we need to do some shopping."

I haven't told Lale what happened at the café yet. She left early for a call, so she doesn't know about Turgut picking me up and taking me to the bathroom. I haven't told her anything about our conversation because I know she'll tease me endlessly, and I can't deal with that.

After a four-hour shopping spree with Lale, I slept peacefully for the first time in many nights. I had finally shown him that nobody tells me what to do—not him, not anyone. But something kept bothering me: how was I going to tell Zade where we were going? The race is at 1 AM, and the curfew is midnight. What am I going to do? But that's only if he's home tomorrow, since he spends most of his time with that wicked, slutty girlfriend of his.

(Next day)

I had to get ready, but first, I had to tell Zade because he was home. Lale, of course, was fully ready, not caring about anything. If something goes wrong, Sid is our safeguard, the one who helps us get through the wrath of Nico and Zade. Why are these two like this?

Standing outside his room, I took a deep breath. I had to tell him, but I made an irritated face. I was still mad at him; we weren't talking. He didn't even bother to ask why I lashed out at his girlfriend and slapped her. He only cared about the slap, not me. I opened the door and saw him sitting on the bed, phone pressed to his ear. I walked in and sat on the red leather sofa opposite him, crossing my legs and giving him my most irritated look. He rolled his eyes and said, "I'll call you later," before putting his phone aside and looking at me.

Even though my heart was racing, I kept a straight face. "Me and Lale are going to a party," I said before he could ask anything. "Lina's party. I know it's late, but I'm going whether you agree or not." He looked at me with an indescribable expression, stood up, and came to sit beside me.

"I don't know what happened between you and her, but fix it. Apologize. I don't want you slapping her again," he said. My hands clenched into fists. I had just told him I was going somewhere, and all he cared about was her. Before I could explode, he continued, "Send me the location and keep your phone on." I blinked, confused. Was he even talking to me? I glanced around to see if someone else was there, but no—it was just us.

"I'm talking about the party. Aren't you getting late? Stay safe. Remember, I'm one call away if anything happens," he said calmly. I was in total disbelief. No fight, no arguments—he just agreed, like that. How? What changed? Was this because of Dad? I shook my head and moved toward the door. Just as I was about to close it, he called out, "Hey Sib!" I paused, "Be careful—you don't know how the world is out there." I shook my head harder this time and closed the door behind me.

I got ready as fast as I could. I had a plan and needed to be there before the race started. Lale looked at me in the mirror. "Girl, damn, you're hot. The boys are gonna swoon over you. You're totally killing it in this slutty outfit." I turned to face her. "Now check, alright," I motioned. She stood up, grabbed the keys from the dresser, and handed me a lip gloss. "Put this on, and you're good to go." I started to argue, telling her I didn't like glossy lips and preferred velvet lipsticks, but she wouldn't listen—too excited. "And these long legs, girl! I'd date you if I wasn't a girl. Maybe even he would ask you out after seeing you in this." She slapped my butt and exited the room.

I had picked this leather Ferrari short skirt dress for a reason. I smiled, proud of my wicked plan. But I had to sneak out because if Zade or anyone else saw me dressed like this, I was done for. Zade never wants other boys to look at me, but his girlfriend wears the sluttiest, shortest dresses, and he doesn't care at all.

As I was sneaking out, she walked in. Before she could say a word, I sped up, giving her a side-eye, and slipped into Lale's car. We took off, but one thought lingered in my mind—Turgut's words about scratching my bike whenever I did something like this. But now, there was no turning back. Let it happen. Why do I always end up with these overprotective men? Suddenly, the memory of him pinning me to the restroom counter came flooding back, his body so close to mine. My cheeks flushed as the heat crept up to my face.

Let the race begin.