I stare at him for a moment and my mind goes blank as his hazel eyes search mine. He smiles and I look away. Instead of protesting the fact that hes man-handling my bike, I hurry and open my door to grab my purse before locking the car. I avoid his eyes as I get in his truck.

Im fl.u.s.tered. And I dont like it. I clutch my purse tight in my hands. Im shaking. I cant get a hold of myself.

Cole slides into the drivers seat a few seconds later and starts up his truck. He pushes on the gas and revs it a few times.

I glance over and hope he sees my annoyed look. Do you really need a truck this big?

He grins. Bigger is always better.

Im not amused. I shouldnt have asked.

He shrugs and pulls out of the dirt parking lot.

I stare out the window as we drive down the mountain and away from my poor car. I hope no one steals it. Even though they wont, since its obviously dead. It still makes me nervous, though, leaving it up here all by itself. Weve been through a lot, that car and I.

But my bike is more important and Im relieved its in Coles truck. Its worth more than my c.r.a.ppy car.

Were you practicing for your race?

Of course. My voice holds back my nervousness. Im not going to give anything away.

Ill bet you were. He pauses for a moment. You racing the Back Country next month?

Yep.

Me too. Theres supposed to be some sponsors there. Cool, huh?

I nod. All I want is for a sponsor to notice me. Then I can afford some nicer gear. Maybe I could get those shoes Ive been wanting. Or some new gloves that arent so stiff.

We sit in silence. I pick at my nails; he taps on the steering wheel. Ive never been good at starting conversations.

Not a big talker? I can hear the smile in his voice.

Not really.

He chuckles and thankfully stops asking questions.

Before I know it, Cole pulls into my driveway. And thats when I realize something. How do you know where I live?

He reaches for the door handle. Whitney lives around the corner. And Ive seen you pull in here a few times.

Oh. The thought of him knowing more details about my life is unnerving.

Ill get your bike.

I nod and let myself out.

His muscles flex as he pulls my bike out of his truck. I cant help but stare and mentally curse myself for looking at all. Cole is not my friend. He never has been. Hes my biking enemy. Nemesis. He took captain from me. I cant let him distract me and I wont fall for all of his charms like every other girl did our junior year of high school.

Im sure he cant even count how many girls hes been with. Ive heard so many rumors about him. Too many.

He holds onto the handlebars and pushes my bike toward me. You sure you dont need me to call a tow truck? I can go back up and wait for them. He shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out his cell.

I shake my head. Ill do it tomorrow.

He raises an eyebrow. You sure?

I think I can handle using a phone. And my dad has towing cables, so were fine.

He frowns, puts his phone away, and takes a step toward me. I cant read the look on his face. Why do you do that?

Do what?

Snap at me like that. When are you going to realize Im not your enemy?

I fold my arms and refuse to answer. I dont know. The fact that he took captain from me is a big deal. Not to mention, his bike is seriously worth way more than my bike and my car put together, which isnt hard, but still. Hes all about money. If he can get the most expensive equipment, then h.e.l.l get all the sponsors. I know its a stupid reason not to like someone, but I cant get over it.

Thanks for the ride, is all I say.

No problem. He takes a step back, and his expression is curious as he searches my face.

What?

No more sarcasm? Really? Youve been on a roll tonight.

I try to come up with something, but fail. Well, fortunately for you, Ive run out.

Good news for me. He still stares, a smile creeping in as he tries to figure me out, I think. After a moment, he turns around and heads back toward his truck. He calls over his shoulder as he opens the door, Later, Marty.

And just like that, my weird, confusing feelings evaporate. Im still just Marty. Nothing more. I grab my bike. Bye. I feel his eyes on me as I walk away and several thoughts fly through my head.

Stupid car. Stupid race. Stupid Cole. Stupid nickname.

CHAPTER 4.

When my alarm blasts in my ear the next morning, I turn it off and make myself get out of bed. Most people would hit the snooze b.u.t.ton, but I dont. The snooze b.u.t.ton teases you with the notion of giving you a few more minutes of sleep, but then wakes you up five minutes later with no apologies.

I tend to avoid it at all costs. I dont like technology playing with my feelings like that.

Only when Im halfway across the room do I remember its Sunday. Which makes me wonder why the heck I set my alarm to wake me up so early in the first place.

Determined not to get up early, I get back in bed and snuggle in my covers again to try to go back to sleep. I give up after ten minutes. Unfortunately, I take after Dad. Once Im awake, Im awake for the rest of the day.

I drag my feet up the stairs, heeding the call of my growling stomach, to grab something for breakfast. Im not surprised to see Dad in the kitchen eating Cheerios in his pajamas. His dark hair is kind of crazy and hes wearing his gla.s.ses on the edge of his nose while looking at yesterdays paper.

Hey, Bug.

I roll my eyes. Dad. No. Hes called me that nickname ever since I was a kid, and no matter how many times I tell him not to, he does it anyway.

He takes a bite and looks at me thoughtfully as he chews. Why are you up so early this morning? Its summer. You should be sleeping until ten like a normal teenager.

I smile. Sometimes I wish I didnt have your genes.

He chuckles as he moves his spoon around in his bowl to get the last remaining Cheerios before looking up at me again. You want to join me? Theres plenty of cereal left.

I wrinkle my nose as he lifts the bowl to his lips to drink the milk. I dont do Cheerios. Or drink leftover cereal milk. Gross.

He sets his bowl down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. I know. He gives me a wink and stands to put his bowl in the sink. Once hes done, he looks at me again. Hey. You okay? I mean, with everything that happened with Lucas Im fine, I say a little too quickly. By the look hes giving me, he knows Im not fine at all.

If you need anything, let me know.

Okay. Thanks, Dad. A sliver of light comes through the curtains and I peek through them. Its going to be a beautiful day. A little chilly this morning maybe, but nice. Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow your car.

Why?

I want to get a quick ride in this morning.

You just went riding yesterday. Which, by the way, since we had to go get your car last night, I didnt get to bed until one.

I know. And Im sorry about that. Maybe you can just get me a new car?

He frowns. Nice try.

Hey, it doesnt hurt to ask. I grin. Please let me go. It will be a quick one, Dad. I promise.

Emmy Sundays are family days.

Like we ever really do things together on Sunday. Ill be back before Mom and Gavin wake up and we can do something then. Im bouncing on the b.a.l.l.s of my feet, itching to go outside before it gets too hot.

He stares at me a moment, leans against the counter, and rubs his hand over his face. I didnt notice before now, but he looks really tired. Actually, your mother is already awake.

I give him a weird look. Really? Mom is notorious for sleeping in on the weekends. Shes not someone I would call a morning person. Ever.

We couldnt really sleep last night. He frowns and stares at nothing for a second before looking up at me again. You know, why dont you go wake Gavin? We need to have a chat with you guys.

Really? You want me to wake Gavin up? This early?

He smiles. You can handle it. It will be good for him to get up early anyway.

Okay ? I frown as I walk down the hall to Gavins room. Somethings going on. Theres no way Dad would ever have me wake Gavin this early unless somethings wrong. Did someone die? Grandma? One of the neighbors? He seemed a little anxious, but not upset. Maybe were moving or something?

I dont bother knocking on Gavins door, just let myself in. Hes twisted in his blankets on the far side of his bed, his mouth open and drooling on his pillow. I cant really tell if hes drooling, but it wouldnt surprise me. Im sure hes in his underwear under those blankets, so I avoid moving them at all costs.

I decide to be nice instead of jump on him, so I push his shoulder a few times. Hey. Gav. Dad wants you up.

He rolls over, pulling the blankets with him. Go away.

Wow. That easy, huh? I was thinking of going to get a bucket of ice water to wake you up.

He frowns, his eyes still closed. Youd regret it.

Probably. Now get out of bed. I smack him on his bare back and he flinches. Mom and Dad want to talk to us for some reason.

He yawns and opens one eye. Do you even know what time it is? Or what day? Im supposed to sleep in on Sundays.

Of course I do. Now quit being lazy and get up.

He mutters a curse under his breath and wraps his blanket tight around him. Thank goodness. As he follows me out of the room, I cant help but smirk at how sweet his blanket cuddling is.

I glance over my shoulder at him and stick out my bottom lip. Cant go anywhere without your wittle bw.a.n.ky?

He grumbles something I cant understand under his breath.

Now whos the third-grader? I add.

Shut up.

We walk into the front room where Mom and Dad are already sitting on the couch. Gavin plops down on the floor and ends up on his side, half asleep and looking like a rolled-up burrito. His face is flat on the carpet and I wonder if theres any possible way he can be comfortable there. I step around him and sit in the chair, wishing I had a blanket. Its chilly this morning. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my bare legs.

Dads holding Moms hand. She still in her pajamas, her hair pulled in a ponytail. She looks exhausted and I wonder why she doesnt go back to bed. Shes obviously not getting enough sleep. Whatever they want to talk to us about must be pretty important.

So? I say, breaking the tension in the room. Whats up?

Dad glances at Mom and she nods. We uh I dont even know where to start.

Start at the beginning then. Isnt that where youre always supposed to start when you tell someone something? And in this case, its something big. I can see it in Dads eyes. The nervous way they look at each other.

He glances at Mom again before he continues. About six months ago, your mother started having some symptoms. I dont know if you two have noticed, but shes been forgetful lately.

I remember the cookies, so I nod. And I guess there was that one time she forgot to pick me up at school a few months ago, but that wasnt too weird. I caught a ride home with Kelsie, so it wasnt a big deal.

Well, one incident about three months ago finally made us go to the doctor to get it checked out.

What happened? I ask, glaring at Gavin, whos practically snoring on the floor. I kick him in the side, expecting him to yell at me, but all he does is turn over.

She mixed up some medication at the pharmacy. My eyes widen. Everythings fine, they got it figured out, but it could have been very bad for both parties involved. He gives Mom a small smile and squeezes her hand. The doctors did some tests, and weve well, weve known the results for a while.

What? Youve kept this from us for months? Why?

We didnt want you guys to worry. We werent sure how bad it was. And at first, it wasnt bad. And as we think back now, shes had some of the symptoms even longer than six months.

I dont notice how tense I am until that moment. I adjust my position in the chair, letting my feet down to the floor, but still sit on the edge of my seat. So, whats wrong?