𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡

Ch.20 - The Brothers

The motorcycle bellowed it's usual roar as it sped down the road and endured turn after turn, while we soared past cars as they drove their own way. Everybody else on the road kept to their own business, completely content with the individual worlds they lived in. Worlds that were easily separated by nothing more than a few steel doors and glass windows.

Me and Dean of course, were far less fortunate. We have no car doors. No transparent windows. Nothing at all to shield the two of us from the reality of the world around us. Most of all, there's nothing keeping us from trying to prod and pick at each other's brains. All I have is my butt cemented onto the back of a street fighter's bike, with no other hopes than to hop off the first chance I get.

Before, this ride felt like freedom-and the feeling is still very much there- but now a tense atmosphere is beginning to mask over my liveliness from earlier.

Dean's volatile exchange with his seemingly ill-intended friend started all this. It's obvious that he's still reeling from it. The last semblance of speech that came out of that boy was when we were still at the gym and he was practically growling at Mace. Since then, he's chosen to remain stoic.

Not exactly the best reaction, considering someone with as many questions as me is on his back...literally.

Mace's strange remark about being "brothers forever" just added more questions to the long list of things I don't know about Dean. Out of all people, I should know that family isn't always picture perfect. Sometimes it's nothing more than black-hearted and flawed. Judging by this Mace guy -his brother- maybe Dean's own family life leaves something to be desired?

That would surely explain his roguish character.

All the excitement from tonight was actively beginning a vicious assault on my temples. A hand almost went up to rub the headache away, until I thought better of it, not deciding to take chances with my own poor balance, a bumpy road, and the five hundred pound speeding bike I was currently seated on.

Instead of entertaining my thoughts any longer than I actually had to, I decided to preoccupy myself for the remainder of our ride by peering into the windows of cars as they drove by.

If I'm going to be nosy, I could at least do it to people I don't know.

After several minutes of using whatever I saw as a means of drowning out my thoughts, my gaze inadvertently drifted over the back of Dean's neck.

Peeking ever so slightly from under the collar of his shirt, was the dull luster of a silver necklace chain, bustling about from the wind cutting around us. I haven't actually paid attention to what he is wearing today. But I'm assuming they're Army dog tags. The same ones I had noticed when I found myself ogling him that first time in class, then I peeped them again later on, that night I pulled him off the street. Does he always wear it?

There I go with my darn curiosity again...

Within the next twenty minutes, we turned down my street and into the driveway of my neighbor's house. I had half a mind to tell him he pulled into the wrong house, until I remembered my own not-so-crafty lie. I had given him my neighbors address so he wouldn't really now my own. What happened tonight only further justifies my dishonesty....right? It's not like I need Dean's crowd knowing where I live.

More problems I'll have to worry about.

The moment Dean switched off the bike, I took it as my que to hop out my seat. The sudden loss of contact left my whole front side feeling unusually vacant, but I swallowed it, and pushed whatever implications it might have meant to the back of my mind. Their are enough annoying questions in my head as it is, and they are already in danger of spill out in a jumbled mess. I awkwardly eased away in an attempt to retreat to the front door of my neighbors lawn. Before, I reached farther than three feet, Dean, being the wonderful guy that he is, broke the silence.