“Highway. Get off on Bird Lane, it’s about ten miles past the shop,” she says.
I do as she says, letting my foot fall heavy on the pedal. I know Trevor’s had a few beers and that’s why he let me drive, but I’m glad he did. I need the distraction, because the visions racing through my mind are unbearable, and each time I let a new one rear into my mind, I edge up a few more miles per hour. By the time we hit the suburbs, I’m cruising at about 90.
“Careful, Charlotte. Watch for cops, okay?” Trevor says, his voice stern. I can tell he’s angry that we had to leave, and I can tell he’s irritated at me somehow, too. But I don’t care. I swear if I can just get there fast enough, somehow stop Cody before he rides up a hill and does something to hurt himself, I’ll tell him everything. I’ll tell Trevor everything. I don’t know what I was thinking letting Jim make decisions for me, about who I get to love.
Jessie guides me down a few rural roads after I exit the highway, and soon we’re pulling into a giant dirt lot, with lighted tracks and riders zipping over mounds and hills. I see a few big ramps and a giant pit in the middle, full of foam, and I know that’s where he is. I don’t even turn off the car when I push the gear into park and sprint away, the door hanging wide open.
“Cody! Cody!” I’m yelling, my voice shrill and cracking from the cold. People are looking at me like I’m crazy, but I don’t care. I have to find him; I have to stop him.
“Cody! Cody…Cody Carmichael?” I ask one guy walking by with a helmet covered in stickers. He just shrugs and shakes his head at me, almost avoiding me like I’m one of those phone salesmen at a kiosk in the mall.
“Cody!” I hear Jessie yelling, several feet away from me. She’s climbing up a series of steps, and Trevor is jogging to catch up to her. I look to the top of the steps, up one of the ramps. I see Gabe, and it fuels me. I run, faster than I ever have, and take the stairs two at a time until I eventually catch and pass Trevor and Jessie. When I get to the top, I see him, swiveling his tire side-to-side on his bike, his helmet buckled, but his goggles pushed up so I can see his bloodshot eyes.
“Cody, no! Stop it!” I yell, walking out to the edge of the giant dirt ramp, but Gabe grabs my arm and pulls me back to him.
“Careful, Charlie. It’s steep! You’ll fall,” he says.
“I have to get to him, Gabe. He has to see me. He can’t do this,” I say, my entire body shaking from the crying I can no longer stop.
“Relax, Charlie. He jumps all the time. He’ll be careful, he always is,” he says, but I can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t sure. So when his grip loosens, I take off running toward Cody, waving my arms to get his attention. I’m almost to him, and he’s pulling his helmet off as he sees me, when I feel my left foot give and slide to the side down the hill. I land on my knee hard and fall flat on my hands and face next, sliding forward, but teetering dangerously on the edge.
I’m going to fall. It’s inevitable—I just know it. I dig my fingertips into the dirt and press my cheek flat as I slide slowly, hoping if I stay pressed against the earth that I won’t roll or break a bone. I’ll have one hell of a set of cuts on the front of my body, but those I can handle. I close my eyes tightly as the direction of my slide starts to turn down the hill, and I feel the left side of my body start to twist—and then I feel a hand grip my wrist.
“I got you, Charlie. Hold on; hold on for me, okay?” Cody says, his eyes scared. He’s laying flat along the top of the hill, and he reaches down with his other hand to pull my arm while I kick at the ground and dig in with my shoes, fighting gravity.
“Cody, I’m falling. I can’t—” I say as my foot slips, and I slide down a few inches.
“No you’re not. I’ve got you. Look at me,” Cody says, his eyes focused on mine, willing me. I keep kicking, reaching up with my other arm, until finally he has that one too, and he starts to pull me backward. Soon Gabe is grabbing my elbow, and the two of them have me back up on level ground.
I’m crying hard now, mostly from terror, and Cody is sitting back on his hands, his breathing hard. Jessie and Trevor are standing at the platform, and with Jessie’s urging, I make my way over to her on shaky legs. She puts her arm around me and slowly walks me down the stairs; I notice Trevor doesn’t follow.
“Damn,” Jessie says. She’s calm about it, nothing like the quivering mess I am.
“Damn what?” I say, my voice shaky, just like the rest of me.