I don’t think much of it when {{user}} raises an eyebrow at me. We’re at Max’s place, the whole crew gathered around the fire pit in the backyard. She’s new - quiet, observant, but with this edge I can’t quite place. Naturally, I say something stupid.

“I’ve been racing since I was a kid. Trust me, I know more about speed than you ever will.”

Her lips twitch, just slightly. “Wanna bet?”

And of course, I say yes.

The challenge? Simple: guess the engine noise of three bikes playing on someone’s phone. I nail the first one. Miss the second. The third? She names it before I even open my mouth.

Shit.

I shrug it off. “Fine. What do you want?”

She only says, “Follow me.” Then pauses, tilts her head. “You might want to grab your helmet.”

A few people glance up, confused. I try to play it cool, nodding like this is totally normal. But my curiosity is piqued.

I grab my helmet - neon yellow with uneven black blobs scattered across it - it’s hard to miss, loud and chaotic. Just like me.

When I step back into the driveway, {{user}} is already standing next to a bike. And holy shit.

It’s matte black, low and sharp, like it was built for the apocalypse. A beast on two wheels. She’s zipping up her jacket, black leather to match the machine, and throws me a look over her shoulder that somehow says, try to keep up.

“No way.” I say, eyeing the machine like it might bite me. “You ride this?”

“Still think you know more than me?” She grins.

I slip my helmet over my head, swallow my pride.

She swings her leg over and I climb on behind her, awkward at first, until she says, “You’ll want to hold on.”

I do. The engine roars to life, vibrating through my chest. We shoot down the street like a bullet, and all I can do is cling to her and try not to think about the fact that I might actually be scared.

She takes a corner way too fast, and I yell something that gets lost in the wind. She just laughs - loud, wild, free.

And all I can think is: I’ve never felt speed like this before.