Gracie Abrams is eking out a solitary existence, fighting day-in, day-out against the drain of working customer service and nursing two newborn kittens in her off time. Out on her own ever since her sister moved in with her boyfriend, the burden of...
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I'd never ridden on a motorcycle before. Never did I imagine that I would be holding onto a bare stomach with a death grip while also trying to be careful of accidentally grabbing their belly button ring.
Talia was tall and skinny, but she also had some weight to her. All tall people had weight to them. As I grabbed at her stomach, I could feel when she placed her foot on the brake pedal. I could feel a different tightening as she geared up for a turn. But at the same time, I wasn't grabbing hold of her ribs. She wasn't so skinny that I felt I was crushing her vital organs.
As unused to skinship as I was, I had to remind myself I wasn't doing anything wrong.
The ride itself wasn't that terrifying. I mean, I'd been held in Kakashi's arms as he dove up onto my roof and flew over Rengoku's flames, plummeting toward the ground at dizzying speed.
Sure, this thing didn't have a seat belt or safety harness, but we had helmets that clacked together at every bump in the road. And I had a driver who didn't rev their engine and speed off into the sunset. That helped.
We drove downtown, and I half-wondered if I would make a second appearance at the Wolf Den before I dismissed the idea entirely. We were going to the riverfront, but not as far down as the infamous bar.
Plus, hadn't Bella made it sound as if Talia was hiding from her own people?
Eventually, we arrived near a stack of painted rocks. One of the many decorative sculptures in the city, though this one was technically just rocks. Rocks painted with gloss and patterned in different Afro-centric designs. Most of it was the red, green, and yellow associated with African American flag colors, but a couple of them showed several designs I often saw on ankara fabric and kente cloth.
Three benches closed the rocks into a weird, box-like viewing platform. Talia parked the motorcycle as close to the cement parking stopper as she could, then paced around the square. From a distance, she looked like a street dancer prepping before the crowds came.
But it wasn't a City Market day, and nobody would be coming down to the water in November. Only a couple of overly-hopeful fishermen even walked these trails in the winter.
I was still a bit in awe that I had hopped on the back of a motorcycle and traveled all this way with a stranger. There was nobody around to stop Talia from drowning me in the river, was there? What kinds of spells could witches use at the snap of their fingers? Or could they even do that? Did they have casual magic like in Harry Potter, or did everything have to be done with a summoning circle and a ceremony?
Strangely, despite all the uncertainty, I wasn't scared. All I felt was resolve. Kakashi needed to go home. He grew impatient, especially after learning about Obito. He had made his choice.
And it was my job to help him.
"Talia," I began, shuffling over to a bench. Instead of sitting, I stood behind it. One flimsy layer between us, but it gave me something to grab hold of and ground me. "Why are you hiding from your coven?"
