Our Wild Hearts

Chapter 2: We're Even Now

Chapter 2: We're Even Now

I am so bored.

School ended almost two hours ago and the first day went rather well - that is if you don't include the ill-fated coffee incident.

Currently, I'm sitting cross-legged on my bed, my laptop on my lap, and I'm scrolling through my Facebook feed, only to find myself going through the same posts over and over again. Feeling exasperated, I shut my laptop screen and think of stuff to do before boredom becomes the death of me.

Ugh, it's so boring being alone at home. I'm not an only child though. I have an older brother, Nick, but he moved to Boston for college. Therefore, it's just me and my mom at home now. Well, just me at the moment since mom is at work. I could call Zoe and ask her if she wanted to hang out, but I've only known her for a day and I didn't want to come off as clingy.

Since, it was the first day, we didn't even get any homework that I could occupy myself with. Yes, I'm that bored that doing my homework seems appealing to me: a sentence I never thought I'd ever say. I could do some reading, but I've already read all the books that I own. Since I basically just moved here two weeks ago, I'm not exactly familiar with the locations, so I can't even pay a quick visit to the local library and grab myself a book to read.

And that's when an idea pops into my head. Ever since I moved here, I haven't gotten a chance to fully explore the town as I had been busy helping my mom decorate our new place. We've officially moved in and the house is set up completely, which gives me the perfect opportunity to go out and explore the neighbourhood. Yes, I never even explored the place where I live in properly.

I get up from the bed and reach for my phone which is resting on my side table. Unlocking the phone, I check the time on it which read 4:23 pm. Mom doesn't get back from work before 6 pm which means the car is with her. This leaves me with two options; walking or bicycling. I obviously choose the latter.

I love cycling, always have. Although there were times when I neglected my bike, I always found myself returning to it. To me, cycling is not just a hobby, but rather a form of liberation. I love the feeling of independence it gives me, and the profound satisfaction knowing that, whatever distance I've gone, I've done it under my own power. Not only is cycling environmentally friendly, but it also serves as a great form of exercise - something I could clearly make use of given my unfit lifestyle.

I take a quick peek outside my window and it seems like the perfect day to go bicycling. Excited, I walk towards the closet and change into my workout clothes; a graphic muscle tee, black leggings and a pair of joggers. After pulling my hair into a ponytail, I contemplate whether to bring my phone along or not, but decide against it. Cycling is time for myself; time which can be spent freely without guilt, and I don't want my stupid phone serving as a distraction.

But, what if there's some kind of emergency? Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not going to fight a war. Just a simple bike ride. I'll be just fine.

Little did I know that I'd be far from 'fine'.

****

I've been cycling down the street for at least ten minutes. Boy, did I miss this feeling; the wind sweeping through my hair - through the helmet of course because safety first like duh - and tingling in my thighs because of all the paddling. I love the sensation of hearing the chain smoothly glide through the derailleurs and move under my own energy. I continue peddling down the street, taking in the beautiful surroundings of the neighbourhood, that otherwise would have gone unseen. I feel light and free.

At the end of the street is a T-Junction, which always poses a threat of an incoming car, ready to run over you. Reducing my speed, I continue cycling, but a stray cat on the side of the road catches my eye, and I turn to look at it. Let me remind you, I pull this stupid stunt while I'm accelerating. And the next thing I know, out of nowhere, a black Mercedes takes a sharp turn into the street.