A Summer's Disruption

The Fisherman and His Trout

And just like that, I started hanging out with Michaela more and more. Her parents were not home often, so I spent a lot of time in her house. Thinking back, I've never met Michaela's parents.

Were her parents the strict type? Did they even know that some random teenage boy made himself comfortable in their home almost every day? I was definitely curious. But, I didn't care enough to find out. I was just happy that I could spend time with her.

A few weeks have passed since the first time Michaela invited me to her home, and I've learned a lot about her since then.

Her favorite color is green. She hates seafood. She listens to indie rock — The Arctic Monkeys to be specific. She has naturally wavy hair, but she prefers it straight. One of the most notable things about Michaela, however, is her mind. It's like a cluttered attic in there, packed with everything from random human anatomy facts to the history of obscure battles that no one cares about.

She keeps me on my toes, though. I have to be ready for whatever crazy fact she throws at me.

"Did you know that the fastest street-legal motorcycles can reach speeds of almost 250 miles per hour?" Michaela asked me out of the blue.

We were both resting on her living room couch watching a sitcom. Michaela sat comfortably while I laid, resting my head on her lap. I turned away from the TV and looked up at her. "Another one of your little facts?" I asked, smirking.

Rolling her eyes, she continued. "Do you know why they can go that fast?"

I shrugged.

"It's their engine design, dummy." She continued. "Most motorcycles have really advanced engines. The high compression ratios, valve timing, and even the improved cylinder heads make them go really fast."

"I learn something new with you everyday." I smiled, gazing into her eyes.

"You're welcome." Michaela responded, playfully flicking my forehead.

After pondering for a moment, I asked, "Do you wanna test it out?"

"Test what out?"

"How fast a motorcycle really can go."

Michaela looked at me with a puzzled look. I then sprung off her couch and took her hand.

"Come on."

****

I had brought Michaela to the local motorbike shop in town that I work at. The sun was setting, and the store was closing soon. Upon carefully entering, I noticed my manager spinning around in his wheely chair, clearly dying from boredom. When he noticed me, he stopped spinning and his eyes widened. "Ty! My boy! How's it going?"

"I'm all good over here, Eli." I looked around, "I just wanted to see how you were doing, y'know?"

Eli's expression suddenly changed to a pout. "I mean... I've been okay, I guess. But—" slowly inching toward me, "you know what would make me really happy?"

I sighed, already knowing what he would ask, "Ugh. fine, I'll close up the shop for you today."

Eli smiled, embracing me in an aggressive bear hug. "THANKS SO MUCH PAL." In his excitement, Eli tried pulling me in for a kiss on the cheek, but I quickly dodged.

"Okay, calm down bro." I said seriously.

"My bad. But seriously, I owe you one." Eli said laughing. He then grabbed his bag and drink and skipped to the exit.

He must have really wanted to go home. I thought to myself.

Eli is my closest friend in this town. He and I grew up together, so naturally we did everything together. When he became the manager of this motorbike shop, I even forced him to hire me. So, considering how close we are, I hope he forgives me for what I'm about to do.