We Lucky Few

On frustration and how to relieve it

My gaze slid over the clock as I entered my apartment. I did a double take when I realized how late it already was.

8:30

Max would be here in thirty minutes. Well, maybe more, since Max was always late.

I hurried over to the bathroom and took another shower, then put on a pair of ripped grey jeans and a black button-up shirt. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Deep green eyes stared back at me. I sighed when my hair kept falling over my eyes. I'd definitely have to get a haircut.

I was dressed and ready at 9 o'clock, yet Max was nowhere in sight.

What a surprise.

I rolled my eyes and sauntered back into the living room where I flopped down on the couch, my copy of the Scientific American in my hands. It was almost 9.30 when Max's knock resounded on the door. I let out a frustrated growl and hurried outside, throwing Max a dark look.

"I hate when people are late."

Max just grinned. "I know you do, pal. I can't help it. Somehow there's always something preventing me from being on time. It's not my fault!"

I shot him a stern look as we descended the stairs and made our way to Max's Camaro. Max gave a low whistle when we passed Calliope's bike.

"Whoa. Nice bike. How did I not see that when I arrived? One of your neighbors is a biker? Can I meet him? I bet he's fun. All bikers are fun. I would know. I'm as fun as they come." Max winked.

I felt my cheeks redden for reasons I could not begin to fathom.

"Uh... It's... um-"

Max laughed out loud. "Wow, what's gotten you so worked up, buddy?"

"The owner of the bike... It's a girl," I said with a sigh. Something about revealing this irked me.

Max's eyes widened and he froze, his grip on the handle of his Camaro. "That's hot as hell."

Yep. That's why.

He looked back at the bike and I could practically see the pictures rise in front of his eyes when he sucked in his lower lip. I didn't like Max's look.

"Stop staring at it."

"What? Can a man not fantasize? You have to introduce me to her." He grinned.

"You are to be married, Max."

"So what? I'm not allowed to meet other women anymore?" Max cocked an eyebrow and shrugged.

I didn't answer as I yanked the passenger door open and took a seat, quietly fuming and even more quietly wondering why. Just as Max started his car, the door to my apartment building opened and Calliope stepped out, dressed in her black biker gear, locks flying around her face as the breeze picked up. I groaned at her excellent timing. It looked like a scene plucked straight from some movie.

Max's mouth dropped as he stared at her. Calliope's gaze turned toward the grumbling noise that emanated from the Camaro. When she recognized me, she smiled and waved. I saw her gaze move up and down the car before it came to rest on Max.

"THAT!  Is one awesome car!" She strolled over and walked around it. 

"ZL1 from 2017?" she asked Max who'd turned down his window, her eyes never leaving the car. Max only nodded. I had never seen him speechless, and I wished he would just drive. I had to suppress a shudder that came seemingly out of nowhere.

Calliope clicked her tongue. "Nice. Six-speed manual or 10-speed automatic?"

My lips thinned into a flat line while Max stared at her blankly. When he didn't answer, Calliope leaned down to him on her elbows, cocking an eyebrow.