Hunting the Fairy Tale

Chapter 17 - Friday: Strong Modern Women

Willow

Apparently, none of the cars is available this morning. Hunter is getting the motorcycle ready for our trip to school. He'd screwed a basket-like luggage rack behind the seat and though it is a tight fit, it manages to hold my schoolbag and his gym bag.

My schoolbag is a little fatter than usual because my last class of the day will be PE and I put my gym clothes (school tracksuit, polo shirt and canvas sneakers) in there too. Getting it all in there felt a bit like playing Tetris, but the tracksuit isn't bulky and I folded everything very neatly and tightly. 

Hunter pushes the motorcycle out of the yard and after closing the gate, he helps me onto the seat and hands me a motorcycle jacket. I am highly uncertain about this. I'm not sure I could stand being this close to him right now. Not after rolling around on the beach with him the other day. Since that incident, I become a little light-headed each time he comes within a few centimetres of me. And then there was that awkward chat last night. That certainly didn't help either.

My mother's question last night started me wondering if I'm falling in love with Hunter. How does one know when you're falling in love with someone? I've only known him for about four days, surely, it's not possible yet! I really hope that I'm not. It would make everything extremely uncomfortable and complicated. I'm probably just very attracted to him physically. Who wouldn't be?

Loads of girls must be. What did he mean when he said that I'm not the first girl to try to seduce him? Or something like that? Was he just being mean because he wanted me to see that I was being unfair or was that actually true?

"It's a bit cold in the mornings now," he explains, giving the jacket a shake, calling me back to the present. When I hesitate to take it from him - mostly because I'm still trying to do romantic math in my head - he heaves an exasperated sigh and gets hold of my left hand. He pulls it through the left sleeve and passes the body of the jacket over my back. Oh, splendid, now he's dressing me!

This is not awkward at all!

"Put it on, I don't want you to freeze and fall off. Your mom won't like that, and it would totally spoil my day."

"What about you?" I ask, giving a nervous laugh. I don't want him to be cold either. The jacket is way too big for me, it's clearly meant for Hunter. He's wearing his school jersey and blazer, probably not sufficient to keep out the biting wind when the motorcycle is in full motion. It is particularly cold this morning. I don't own a blazer yet. My mother had only been able to buy me the minimum items for school.

"I'll just wear you," he says with a grin that makes my heart do a summersault. He is merciless. Loading his schoolbag onto his stomach, he nimbly slides into his space on the seat in front of me. "Hold on tight, Missy. You have to keep me warm."

When the motorcycle joins the main traffic and reaches the speed Hunter is going to maintain for most of the ride, I'm profoundly grateful for the jacket. My bare legs are going numb from the cold. I'm certain that it's only the warmth radiating from Hunter's thighs that stops them from freezing completely. I'm going to need some woollen tights for our motorcycle days, especially in the morning. Perhaps I should've worn the tracksuit pants under my dress. If it wasn't for the jacket and the warmth of Hunter's back, the trip would've been unbearably cold today.

The trip is unbearable for completely different reasons and in a completely different way. Riding with Hunter is not the comforting, relaxing, almost spiritual experience I had with Asher yesterday. I'm enjoying it way too much to bear. Being pressed up against him like this is bringing back way too many memories from our beach encounter. In the swirling memories, the water is not cold, the sand is not chafing, and there's no rope cutting into my arms. There's only warm skin and supple muscles.