Brent’s POV
The door closed behind me, but I could still hear the raised voices from inside.Dad’s disappointment, Jeanette’s scorn, and above it all, Stacey’s last, smug words. I climbed onto my motorcycle.T he engine’s rumble just loud enough to drown out my own racing thoughts. Betty… she’d been my best friend, someone I’d always known was drawn to me. But this? Sneaking around with Marcus? And without a word to me? It was like she was slipping away, piece by piece, and I couldn’t catch her.
I sat there, ready to drive off, when I heard someone call my name. I turned, and there was Stacey, her expression softer than usual, the familiar bite in her eyes replaced by something quieter.
“Hey,” she said, almost hesitant, stopping a few steps from me. “It’s chaos in there.”
I sighed, tightening my grip on the handlebars. “Not now, Stacey.”
“Is this new?” she asked, running her fingers along the handlebars. “Looks pretty sleek.”
I glanced down, following her gaze. “Yeah. Got it this morning, I was supposed to show it to Betty.”
“Can you take me for a ride?”
“You… want to go for a ride? With me?” I asked, eyebrows raised.
She gave a small, almost pleading shrug. “Please?” Her voice held a sincerity I’d never expected to hear from her.
I hesitated, torn between my own frustration and this unusual side of Stacey that seemed, for once, unguarded.“Fine. Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere,” she murmured, looking past me toward the street. She climbed on the back, settling in and wrapping her arms around my waist.
With a low rumble, the bike took off, the wind hitting our faces as we sped down the road. Stacey clung to me tightly, her fingers digging into my jacket. We rode through town and beyond, the city blurring behind us as we crossed into the outskirts, neither of us speaking, just letting the rush of the ride drown out everything we’d left behind.