Biker Class (20 page)

"Po
ck
tarts?" she repeated, laughing. "That's so
cute! How old were you?"

He shrugged, a little out of his comfort zone talking about this. Oh,
God, if his friends could hear him now... he'd never
ever
hear the end
of it. "Maybe five or six."

"Aw!" she cooed. "Jake!"

But, suddenly, Jake couldn't help but notice how
alike
they
were then. Both shared a passion for piano (perhaps one of his
deepest
passions) and they both had childhood stories to tell that made a smile crack
along the other's face. Sure, the only reason they were together at this moment
was all because of some little... well, very
big
imitation bet, but he
couldn't help but think that maybe... maybe there was more to the goody-goody
than he'd ever thought.

They continued to eat snacks and speak occasionally, and Jake
surprisingly found that he was telling her more than he'd ever really confided into
his friends—his
real
friends, he had to remind himself. Whenever Melanie
would try to mention school or studying, he would quickly shoot out another
childhood secret that instantly made her start smiling and got her mind off of
it.

Although so seemingly insignificant, they (particularly Jake) seemed
to remember those small words exchanged for quite a while. And the smiles
exchanged... definitely not forgettable.

"Are you going to that beach party Michaela Richard is throwing
Friday night?" Rachel asked Melanie at lunch, taking a bite of her egg
salad sandwich. A small portion of yolk fell out of the back of it and landed
on her napkin. Melanie winced, staring at the dark yellow goop.

"No offense to your mother or anything, but that
can't
taste
good," she
grimaced,
surprised the yellow slime
wasn't crawling off of the paper towel as they spoke.

"It doesn't," she said nonchalantly, like it was an everyday
thing. "Because my dad made it."

"Does he make your lunch a lot?"

"Thankfully, no. But it's either this, or the cafeteria food. And
at least I can tell what this
is
."

"Touché," Melanie smiled, taking a bite of the pasta her
mother had made last night.

"Now stop avoiding the subject," her friend scolded her,
wagging a finger. "Answer my question. Are you or are you not going to
Michaela's party this weekend?"

"I don't know…" she stared at the table. She looked up at
Rachel with her face-eating smile. "I really want to because I want to
meet more people and make friends! Don't get me wrong, you're great and
everything, but you are the only person I ever really talk to." Rachel bit
her lip unhappily. "But I know you don't like that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, only because she is a…" she looked at innocent Melanie,
deciding to finish differently, "… jerk."

"Who is at this school
who
you
don't
think is a jerk?" she questioned lightly, smirking.

"Not many," Rachel compromised.

"If I go, will you go with me?"

"Uh, ha,
no
, Melanie. I'm not going to go all of the way
down to Zuma Beach just to go to some dumb party with a lot of dumb
people." Her tone was final.

"Oh, c'mon!" Melanie begged. She pulled out her Melanie Hart
Puppy-dog Pout. "Are you
really
gonna make me go by myself?"
Rachel watched her, eyes narrowed.

"Don't think that face is going to change my mind," she
shook her head.

"Aw man!" Melanie gave up, slapping the table unhappily.
"You
are
gonna make me go by myself."

"You have to learn; and it sounds like it will have to be the
hard way," Rachel shook her head again, shamefully. "You'll never
want to go to another one after that."

"Rachel, I think you're seriously overreacting."

***

Melanie sat on one of the many logs surrounding the fire by
herself
, holding a thin piece of wire with two marshmallows
on the end, not seeming to want to cook. The heat from the bonfire swept across
her face, making her sigh. This was nothing like Wisconsin. She would usually
be freezing right about now, but instead she was burning up. Melanie would have
gotten up and moved a long time ago, but there was nowhere else she was
comfortable being. Every other log was taken up by people she had never seen
before, didn't know how to strike up a conversation with, and teens of all ages
were dancing and holding their red plastic cups high in the air. Bass-filled
music blared from the large speakers surrounding the DJ table.

Melanie refused to let
herself
leave, even
though she was having no fun at all. She had to make at least one more friend
here tonight.
Had
to. It was not an option for her. She was tired of
being antisocial and only having one friend, it seemed like. She was so
talkative back home, going up to anybody and everybody to jabber and have fun.
But she hated the way California made her feel. She felt changed and timid, not
Melanie-like at all. She despised feeling this way. This was not Melanie
Monroe, and she wished she could show all of these people that. They probably
all thought she was a loner
;
the new girl who didn't
have any friends. Melanie just wished they'd take the time to try and get to
know her.

She
had
tried to talk to people a couple of times. Either
introductions
were made and smiles were exchanged, then they
ran out of things to talk about and it got awkward, or guys (most of them a
little tipsy) tried to hit on her. One had even taken her wrist and tried to
get her to dance with him, but she didn't know him and he smelled strongly of
beer. Melanie had yanked away as quickly as she could, but he just went right
on down the line and found a girl within seconds. That's when she had decided
to grab a few marshmallows and sit down on her own. She had hoped that maybe
someone would be nice enough to come try and talk to her, but no such luck.

Melanie sighed and pulled her marshmallows back, gingerly fingering
them and then carefully sliding one off. She popped it into her mouth and
chewed thoughtfully, glancing around again with the little hope she had left.
She was determined to prove Rachel wrong. She wanted to be able to go to parties
in
high school
and have fun and not always feel like the odd man out. Melanie
heard a few giggles, glanced towards them, and noticed a group of girls trying
to subtly look at her. She kept her eye on
them,
watching as they would whisper to one another and glance her way, then turn
back around laughing. She certainly hoped they were laughing in a good way.

Eventually, one of them turned around to fully face her, and began to
approach her. Melanie sat up straighter and smiled her
100
watt
smile, trying to come off as nice. The girl smiled back, her short
blonde hair windblown as she skipped towards her. She took a seat on the log
beside her.

"Hi," the girl grinned, pulling some of the hair out of her
eyes. Her voice was high, but somehow a little drawling. Melanie instantly got
a vibe that she might not be nice, but she pushed it to the side. Someone was
finally talking to her of
their
own accord, smiling
and not hitting on her and seeming nice. She wasn't throwing that away.

"Hey!" Melanie smiled brilliantly.

"You're that new girl, right?" she asked, her smile glued to
her face. It was almost a little odd.

"Yeah, that's me," Melanie laughed.

"Are you having fun?"

"Um, yeah, I sure am," Melanie lied, her voice not going up.
She supposed she was so determined to talk to someone that her voice was
weighed down.

"I'm Michaela, by the way. It's my party," she continued to
grin. It was starting to look forced.

"Cool," Melanie continued to smile genuinely. "It's
awesome."

"Thanks," she said a little dismissively. "Hey, would
you mind doing me and my friends a favor?"

"Um, sure!" Melanie jumped at the chance.

"Could you go down the beach and find the cooler with the alcohol
in it?" she asked sweetly. "My boyfriend, as a prank, hid it
somewhere down there and I haven't been able to find it. Would you mind
searching that way while I look around on the other side of the beach?"

"Uh, sure, I'd love to help," Melanie said, standing up and
smoothing out the skirt to her sundress.

"Thanks, you're a doll," Michaela patted her arm. She
pointed past the snack table and chairs towards the dark, empty beach.
"That should be where it is. Somewhere over there."

"Okay," Melanie nodded obediently, putting on her
flip flops
and walking around the snack table and a couple
of people mingling.

"Oh!" Michaela called. Melanie turned back around. "If
you can't find it or don't see it anywhere, just keep walking. Straight.
Even if it takes a while.
It should be there!" Melanie
smiled and was glad she made a new acquaintance.

"Sure! No problem!" she waved, turning back around to help
her new friend look for something. If she found it, Michaela would like her
even more! Maybe her time at this party could be salvaged, after all.

Melanie walked forward, smiling at the feeling of the warm sand between
her toes. A warm, salty wind swept across the beach, making nearby palm trees
rustle slightly. It gently blew against Melanie, making her hair fly behind
her. She giggled softly and kept walking, keeping her eyes peeled in the dark
for any cooler. It was starting to become even darker. It was maybe about 7:00,
and Melanie skipped around the beach and twirled, the wind whipping her hair
around.

Suddenly, she stopped. "Stop, Melanie! You are supposed to be
looking for a cooler," she reminded herself strictly. She kept walking,
looking around chairs and under them, finding nothing. She kept skipping
through the sand, making sure she looked everywhere for Michaela's alcohol. Melanie
stopped, turning around: darkness. She turned back around towards the direction
she had been walking: darkness. Melanie stopped laughing and shut her mouth,
very quiet. Silence. All she heard were waves washing onto the shore and the
occasional wind. Nothing else.

Suddenly, she thought she
may
have heard
laughter. It was distant, and she couldn't detect which way it might have been
coming from. Melanie turned back around, and then whipped her head around
again. A wave of panic swept over her. She didn't know where she was. Time
seemed to slow down. Melanie quickly turned the way she thought the party might
be,
power-walking
down the beach. Her fear started to
grow, and she began to run. She kept running, almost whimpering. She kept
running, and kept running, and kept on running. She ran until she was
completely out of breath.

"Stay calm, Melanie," she told herself, turning the other
way. Melanie planned on hopefully going the other way and finding the party.
She kept her eyes peeled for light of any kind
;
a
fire, flashlights, anything. Melanie, adrenaline pumping, began to run the other
way, trying to remember the distance she ran, trying to add a little more to
find people. She kept running, breathing heavily, seeing nothing ahead but
darkness and beach.
Nothing at all.

She was lost.

Melanie turned around and looked both ways again, seeing nothing on
either side but beach. Empty. Lifeless. With her throat aching, it seemed to
hit her like a brick in the stomach: she had been tricked. That's why the girls
were staring at her. That's why they were sniggering. They weren't watching her
to decide if they should talk to her or not, they were watching her because
they were probably betting one another to go up and trick her. Melanie tried to
stay strong, knowing that if she let a tear escape she would start to cry. She
was lost without any means of communication, and the girls were probably
back
at the party laughing about how they tricked the new
girl.

She sat down in the sand, rubbing her eyes that were stinging. Melanie
bit her lip. She needed to stay calm and
level-headed
.
That was what would make the situation worse: if she freaked out. She stood up,
taking a deep breath and listening closely. She heard the distant laughter
again, but it was too far away to be distinguishable. Melanie decided to try
again. She began walking to her left, letting the water swell around her feet
and letting it relax her; however, that nagging feeling of fear would not leave
her. Melanie decided to keep going, sighing. If worse came to worst, she could
go up to one of the cabins near the shore and knock on the door and ask to use
a phone or ask for directions. It could be worse: she could be in a location
that was not inhabited.

Laughter.

Melanie stopped, making sure she didn't breathe so she could hear
whatever it was. For about ten seconds, she heard nothing. Then she heard it
again, coming from her right. Melanie, alert, listened to the laughter. While
going right, she heard it become louder and knew she was heading where she
needed to be. Eventually, in the dark, she saw something tall and black. Upon
coming closer, she realized it was a tall wooden dock. It headed further up and
beach and away from the water, beginning at a hill of sand. It ran out to the
water, and below it
were
large, heavy wooden pillars
holding it up. Sand was surrounding the pillars below the boardwalk, the sand
becoming thinner and thinner until it went into the sea. With a squeak of joy, Melanie
saw quite a large bonfire below it.

People
.

Melanie eavesdropped for a moment before approaching the group below.
She heard a deep voice, obviously a man's.
Then another man's
voice, slightly higher.
Then she heard a loud laugh from a man
who's
voice was more snarky than the other two's. It was so
rude that it sounded quite clear that he wasn't just laughing to laugh, he was
laughing
at
someone. Usually she would not even think twice about
approaching a group of total strangers, men no less.
At
night.
Alone. But it was either ask them for directions or spend the
night on the beach until morning when people woke up and came outside and
listen to the way her mother ranted when she got home over ten hours late. She
chose to ask for directions and pray that these men were nice. She put on a big
smile and began her descent down the sandy slope. She weaved throughout the
multiple wooden pillars, coming closer and closer to the fire with the men
surrounding it.