Biker Class (5 page)

"Jake… uh…" she raked her mind. "He's…" the idea
came to her mind, and she was actually embarrassed for thinking this was true.
Of course, the pervert out-ruled this quality, but she supposed it was a shame
it was wasted. "Jake is
really
…" she looked at her mother with
her brows raised, blushing slightly, ashamed. "Gorgeous."

"Ah," her brows
raised
too, smiling
the smallest smile. "And just how 'gorgeous' is he? On a scale of…one to
Zac Efron?" Melanie rolled her eyes. She'd loved Zac Efron when she was a
tween, and her mother never let her forget it.

"He's Zac Efron's younger, better-looking brother," she said
feebly.

"OH," her mother grinned. "What does he look
like?"

Melanie decided to completely blow this over the top, knowing she
would have to laugh about this later when she was alone. She put a hand to her
heart. "Oh, Mom," she pretended to faint, making her mother chuckle.
"He has dirty blonde hair that flips out on the ends, he's tall and slim,
but he's
fit
. And his face is gorgeous. I can't find a flaw anywhere.
His teeth are white and straight, his lips are so full, and his
eyes
. Oh
my gosh
. They are this beautiful electric blue that
just glows."

"Yummy," her mom joked.

"And he has this smirk that he's always wearing, and it's so–"

"Hot?"

"Yep," Melanie said as-a-matter-of-factly. She tried so hard
not to burst into laughter, knowing how much she was
lying
. "But
he's rude and stubborn and…" she chose her words carefully
"…rough."

"Got ya," Ms. Hart nodded, pushing the gas pedal. She
couldn't help herself, though. "Be careful, Melanie.
Be careful
."

"All right."

Trust me, Mom, I will. It'll always be the only thing on my mind
, Melanie
thought, sighing as they rode towards home.

"So, who did you get as a tutoree?" Rachel's voice floated
to Melanie's ear from the cell phone's speaker. Melanie sighed and slammed back
on her bed, flashes of Jake in her mind: the darkness of his eyes, the
perverted smile,
the
motorcycle popping a wheelie. It
was like one big, but brief nightmare.

"I don't think you want to know," Melanie said weakly,
running a hand through the hair that wasn't strewn across her pillow. "I'm
starting to wish that
I
didn't know. I'm actually starting to wish that
I hadn't even signed up for this in the first place."

"Whoa, whoa, tell me if I'm wrong, but that doesn't sound right
coming out of your mouth," her new friend sounded surprised.

"It
isn't
!" Melanie cried unhappily, quickly covering
her mouth, afraid her mother might have heard. "I don't do things like
that, Rachel. I don't
say
things like that! I am always so dedicated to
the education of my fellow students, but–"

"Okay, okay, I know, nerd."

"I'm
not
a nerd!"

"But you're a very
pretty
nerd. There. That better?"
she tried to compromise.

"Rachel, I'm not a nerd! I just love helping people. Is there
something wrong with that?"

"No, but you
do
show dork-like…
qualities
…"

"No way–"

"But it's okay, because you are one of those few people who are
nerds but are good-looking! Can you not tell that by the way guys have been
making moves on you left and right since you've gotten here? You're fine, Melanie."

Silence.

"Now, tell me who you got."

"I really don't I should tell you," she shook her head, but
she knew that her friend couldn't see her over the phone. So instead, she
settled for groaning. "You'll go off on me like my mom."

"That can't be good," Rachel muttered. "Can I guess,
then?"

"Sure."

"Is it Brandon Laughlin?" she pitched.

"Who's that?"

"I'll take that as a no. How about Robert Jenkins?"

"No idea who that is," Melanie said, bewildered.

"That would be another no. Okay," Rachel continued,
"I'll guess what 'group' they are in, how about that?"

"Go ahead," Melanie sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Um, gangster?"

"Nope."

"Football jock?"

"No," she shook her head, turning on her television the
movers recently moved on top of her dresser. She flipped through channels as
her friend continued to guess randomly.

"Goth?" was about her fifth guess.

"No. Think the same color clothes, though."

"So, I'm getting that they are
bad
?"

"Of course! Otherwise I wouldn't be talking about
quitting
it! Well, if he has it his way, it's over already," Melanie mumbled
unhappily. She glanced out the window
nervously,
almost scared she would see the dangerous, precariously dark blue staring back
at her.

"Oh, it's a
guy
! What's so bad about a guy? If any guy
came near me, I wouldn't care. Heck, I'd be happy!"

Melanie sighed heavily. She just didn't understand. If she knew that Melanie's
tutoree was a potential felon or future offender, she'd think a little
differently.

"But he isn't just
any
guy," Melanie tried to explain
without totally going into complete detail.

"Tell me this," Rachel continued determinedly. "Is he
hot?"

"Well… yes, but–"

"No, there are no 'buts'! He's smokin'. Makes him even more
dangerous, sounds like."

"I guess so," Melanie sighed. She finally stopped aimlessly
flipping TV channels and kept it on HBO. Melanie almost jumped when she heard
something drop heavily on the other side of the phone.

"Crap," she heard Rachel mutter. "Sorry, dropped
something.
Okay
, tell me what kind of car he drives."

"Doesn't have one," Melanie answered.
It
technically wasn't true
,
it was a
motorcycle
.
Or death traps on wheels, as she liked to think of it.

"What kind of money does 'dangerous Mr. Hotty' come from?"

"No idea. But I'd guess they… didn't have much."

"You aren't giving me
anything
to work with, gosh! Why
don't you just tell me who it is?"

"Remember what you told me before you left yesterday?" Melanie
groaned, watching motorcycles ride by in the movie she was watching (which she
had no idea what it was). She heard a long sigh of acknowledgement on the other
end.

"
Oooh,
yeah, I do."

"He applies to that. Like
100%
applies."

"Uh oh."

"Is that not what I've been trying to get across to you for the
past ten minutes?" she
chuckled,
trying to lift
her own spirits even though she knew it was quite hopeless.

"Uh oh.
Uh
oh. Uh
oh.
Okay, when you say '100%
applies', do you mean–?

"Yes, Rachel," she said meekly. "He is…
really
bad."

"Oh God. Not good."

"At all."

"That's right, Melanie. At all." There was a long pause.
"This could be dangerous, Melanie. I'm not kidding. There are bad people
in the school, then there are the
bad
people in the school, if you catch
my drift."

"I think I do," she gulped.

"If you have one of the
bad
people in the school,
especially a guy,
especially
a HOT guy; get another partner."

"Well, he scared me into not tutoring him and just telling people
that I was," Melanie tried to find the hope in the situation. "So I
won't really be seeing him any."

"He
threatened
you?" her voice was low. "What
did he say? He didn't…
do
anything, did he?"

"No! Well… I thought he was, but no! He didn't
do
anything
to me. Just scared the living daylight out of me."

"What–?"

"Oh my gosh, Rachel, he said that if I told anyone he'd know!
Because I was the only person he'd talked to about it! Oh no! You can't tell
anyone
that he intimidated me into lying. You
can
not
.
He'll…" Melanie could picture him riding up on his black bike, climbing
off with that deadly look of anger in his eyes, directed right at her. Fear
rushed through her like a tidal wave. "Just…
please
don't say anything
to
anyone
."

"Melanie, I'm worried about this!"

"No, don't–"

"If he
threatened
you, Melanie, and I mean
threatened
you, then you need to tell someone! This can't go on!" Rachel exclaimed.

"He didn't say he'd hit me or anything!" she tried to
downsize the situation at hand.

"What
did
he say?"

"He just said that 'it was not cool with him. And that would not
be good.' Then he gave me this…
look
…"

"If he's not a gangster, or not a Goth… Melanie Monroe, be honest
with me."

"…"

"Is it…? Is it a Leatherhead?"

"Conzuntite?"

Rachel groaned, and Melanie could almost see her rolling her eyes.
"Is it a
biker
, Melanie?" Her voice was quiet.

"Uh…"

"
Melanie
…"

"Yes!"

An extremely long moment of silence passed between them, and Melanie
had to constantly keep looking at her screen to make sure Rachel hadn't hung
up. When her friend finally spoke up again, her voice was a different tone.
Restrained. Careful. Quiet.

"Which one?"

"Jake."

An almost longer silence than the first tainted the air.

"Okay."

"'Okay?' Is that all you have to say?"

"Melanie, stay away from him." The tone of voice almost
sounded scary. "You couldn't have gotten stuck with someone in a worse
group, but you probably got the nicest or second nicest guy out of his little 'biker
gang'." Melanie almost couldn't believe it. If Jake was the nice one, she
didn't even want to picture the others. "Even in elementary, he was always
a class clown and a trouble-maker. But starting in about eighth grade… he met a
Senior
. About the worst
Senior
you could get involved with. Along with his little
Junior
cronies." That must be the group she saw at the gas station. "And it
wasn't good, Melanie. Went downhill from there. Starting about ninth grade,
rumors started circling around about what he did after school… what he did on
the weekends. He luckily wasn't around when his buddies got caught with some
Mary Jane, but no body doubts and he doesn't deny partaking. His friends have
had several drug charges against them, but they never seem to be sent off to
the Big House. Always find someway out of it. Nobody knows how." Melanie
sat there in complete silence, the TV seemingly non-existent. She was holding
onto every word, horrified. Rachel continued.

"And…" she seemed to gulp, "… starting in about tenth
grade, he was caught smoking." This shocked Melanie. Unlike his fellow
bikers, his breath didn't smell and his teeth weren't yellow. "But he
doesn't do it much. I think that's why he somehow manages to not smell like
smoke all of the time and have white teeth. And… uh… I don't really like saying
this part." Melanie almost didn't want to hear, but some part of her had
to know more. "Right after Christmas in tenth grade, about halfway through
the year, people started talking about… well… the
guys
were looking at
him like a god; it was gross, really… not only the things he'd say and do, but…
what he started doing to
girls
." Melanie gasped, and Rachel
backtracked. "No, no, Melanie, he didn't
rape
anyone, calm down.
Whatever he did, I'm sure it was mutual. And with some sluts who had no problem
with it."

"Oh." She sighed in relief. Well, she couldn't say what she
was hearing didn't phase her. But she was glad to hear nothing was 'forced'.

"
But
–" Uh oh. "-
that
doesn't mean that I would put that past him, Melanie. He's only gotten worse.
All of that was two years ago. No telling what he's done and
is
doing
now. That's another reason to
stay away
." Melanie whimpered.
"I'm not going to lie, girl. You are extremely pretty."

"Aw, Rachel–"

"So it makes it even more
dangerous
for you. He's going to
be attracted to you like a magnet, and unlike the other girls he's interested
in, you're not going to give him what he wants. And… most likely, that will
make him mad. And he'll want it even more." Melanie's smile was wiped
clear. "So, on the off chance you are ever around each other, I cannot
stress this enough.
Do. Not. Be. Alone.
"

Melanie almost couldn't speak, her body shaking.

"W-wow."

"And keep in mind what I said," Rachel said quietly, almost
like she was afraid if she spoke loud enough they'd show up. "He's the
nicest
out of that group. So never ever go near his friends, Melanie. Jake is a
dangerous, crazed, temperamental dog only bound to a wall by a thin rope. His
friends are rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth dogs running around free and you don't
have a gun. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Melanie's mouth was hung open, her knees curled up to her chest. She
was practically rocking back and forth, staring out of her window.

"Melanie?"

She pictured the blonde-haired bad boy, smiling devilishly as he came
closer to her. They were alone in a dark alley. The only sound she could hear
was the barking of distant dogs somewhere, and crickets chirping. It was dark
and cold. A single light that was old and forgotten illuminated the cranny
alone, flickering every now and then as if it couldn't decide if it wanted to
go out or not. Suddenly, in a flash, he was an inch away from her and she was
too terrified to scream. He pulled the hem of her skirt to close the distance
between them like he had the day before. And suddenly, the light went out.

"Melanie? Are you there? Did you hang up on me?"

"Oh, no! N-no. I'm h-here."

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah."

"You don't sound okay. Melanie, don't let what I said freak you
out. As long as you don't hang around him, you'll be fine.
Stick with me
,
and you'll be fine. Okay?" There was an encouraging smile in her voice.

"All right," Melanie took a deep breath. "Thanks for
the nightmares for tonight, though."

Rachel laughed. "It's not real. Calm down. Don't get near him and
you'll be good. Just lie and do what he told you."

"Okay. Bye. See you tomorrow."