A Boy Named Marcus C5

Chapter Five

Wind rushed through your hair, whipping it out behind you, tearing it, strand by strand, from your head. You felt exhilarated beyond what you’d ever felt before. You felt that you could go on and on forever, into the distance and never return to a life before this. You were tearing down the main road at what felt like two hundred miles an hour, without slowing down, without drawing breath. You felt your hands slip from around his waist and fly up in the air. You were shouting and yelling but you couldn’t hear your own voice. Your eyes were closed as the wind rushed past you; it was strong enough to break the branches from trees. Then the roaring sound stopped. The engine was still turning but there was no friction. You opened your eyes. The ground was far beneath you. Marcus had jumped the bike metres into the air. You screamed, in terror now, and grabbed at his waist so tight, as the bike came crashing smoothly back to earth. It screeched as it stopped and he turned it in.
You stepped off the bike, you were shaking, your hair was a mess, you felt slightly sick. You began to back away but your feet weren’t moving, it was like they were stuck to the ground with superglue. Instead you sat down and looked up at him.
“I should have told you to hold on tight,” He smiled. You couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t offend him. He offered you a glass bottle of something. You took two large swallows before you knew what it was. It tasted foul and burnt you all the way down the back of your throat. You nearly wretched.
“What is that?” You coughed, your throat still on fire. You turned the bottle in your hands, it was the sort of expensive vodka that your parents had in their spirits cupboard and that you’d been forbidden never to taste.
He sat down next to you and studied your face,
“You okay now?”
“What? I’m worse now that you’ve poisoned me!”
“Hey,” He held up his hands, “You didn’t have to drink it,” You looked away from him, avoiding his solid, unfaltering gaze from his pale green eyes. This was so unlike you. You were a good girl, one who never acted on impulse, who never drank, who would never ride on the back of a motor bike without a helmet, even if it was legal. You were the sort of person who went home early every day and studied for her future. And that was the last sensible thought you had before it all got muddled and started drifting away; ‘exams were tomorrow.’
He pulled you to your feet on the side of the road and you both climbed onto the bike again. You sat on his shoulders as you cruised along the road. He took you onto the motor way where you went up and down at over one hundred miles an hour. He took the silencers off, as you blazed down the road you half expected fire to erupt out of the exhaust pipe. You jumped several metres into the air. You drank lots more. You never wore a helmet. You never screamed with terror. You never felt safe. You talked and you screamed and you flirted. You always wanted to go faster. You always felt mad with excitement. And you always wanted to go on, you wanted to go on till morning came and went, until you ran out of fuel, until there was no more road.
You stopped in front of your house. The white painted door looked so familiar. He laid the bike gently against your fence, scratching the delicate paint work.
“Thanks,” You swayed a little as you spoke, then you giggled, “Had a fun ride!”
“Maybe again?”
“Maybe every day!” You laughed loudly. He smiled and winked at you before saddling up and roaring into the distance. You pulled your key out of your blazer pocket and tried slotting it into the hole in the door. It wouldn’t fit. You poked around for a bit before giving up. You knocked loudly, “Let me in! It’s me!” The door opened and there stood your father, his face was thunderous.
“Have you any idea how worried me and your mother have been-” He shouted at the top of his voice,
“Who is it?” You heard a female voice call from the depths of the house, “Is it Dalia?”
“Yes and she’s in a lot of trouble!” Your mothers face appeared over your fathers shoulder. You giggled slightly,
“I don’t know what’s so funny Dalia, have you any idea what time it is?” You looked at your watch but the numbers on the face couldn’t seem to make any sense at tall. “Your exams are tomorrow and if you want to get good GCSE’s then these are the ones that determine your life.”
“Whatever...” You mumbled, you pushed past them and into the living room. The bright lights swam around you. You felt dizzy and sick, you just wanted to sleep. Your parents sat down on the sofa next to you,
“Have you been drinking?” Your father asked incredulously, “Please god, tell me you haven’t been? You’re worse than your brother!” The atmosphere suddenly got colder.
“You’re right, she’s drunk. You are grounded for five years young lady!” Your mum joined in,
“I’m so way not a drunk!” You spluttered, hiccupping slightly, “I just wanna go get bed!” You made like you were going to get up but your mother grabbed your wrist and pulled you down again.
“No, I want to hear an explanation about why you stumbled into this house at half past seven!”
“That’s not late-”
“Yes it is considering you should have been here at half past four!”
“The suns still up!” You words slurred a little. Your mother had a quizzical look on her face. She was the one who shouted most at your brother, your dad had a lighter view. Your brother, Tom, was away working in London now, he was working for a newspaper, he told your parents. He was always more of a rebel and was always getting in trouble with his teachers and with your parents. This was good for you because, as you were the quieter one, your parents always put you in a better light.
“No busses come after half three.” Your mum said, “How did you get home, unless you’ve been hanging around for ages?”
“I dunno, just let me go to bed...I’ll tell you in the morning kay?” You made to get up again and this time your dad let you.
You staggered up stairs and fell onto your bed fully clothed. You didn’t open your eyes again till the following morning when you had no idea what had happened.