Chapter Nine

The next day as Mackenzie sat in her usual spot at lunch, Frankie walked by, and Mac caught her eye.

“Thanks, Frankie,” Mac said, tapping an envelope that sat on the table. It had a logo of a bike-riding knight in shining armor. “Want to sit?”

Frankie shrugged and put her backpack on the seat.

“Thanks for trying to make me feel better. I just needed time, I guess.”

“That, and an almost $8,000 bike,” Frankie commented, looking at the opened envelope.

“Well, with my pro discount it’ll only be an approximately $4,500 bike.”

Frankie smiled as she eyed Mac’s lunch of four plain turkey slices, dry salad, and bottled water. “Looks like you’re back. Not that I missed your freak sticks,” she said, nodding at Mackenzie’s chopsticks.

“Well, I do need some damage control if I want to make it to Vermont and back, don’t I?” she said, pulling a ream of paper out of the envelope. “You’ve got to see this! You want to help me build it up after school? It’s at the shop.”

Frankie rolled her eyes. “You are so beyond. How do you think I got that in the first place?” She picked up the specs. “Oh man, nice. You were so right to get Campy components…sweet.”

“Campy sucks.”

Both girls turned to see Charlie drop his tray on the table and grab up the spec sheet.

“No one asked you,” Frankie said, snatching it back and waving goodbye to him. “See ya.”

Charlie took the sheet back and sat. “This isn’t a private table.” Turning to Mac., he asked, “You saved for six years and you wasted your bucks on Campy, Skater?”

Mackenzie grabbed back the specs and said, “Shimano’s more disposable. I didn’t want something that light.”

Charlie scoffed and snatched them again, holding the packet of pages above his head. “You’re insane. Shimano’s so nice because it’s light. You’re spending that kind of cake and you got stuck with that old world crap.”

Dante dropped his tray on the table and sat down next to Mac.

“Dude, don’t you know what the pro mechanics call Shimano?” Frankie asked.

Dante sang out, "Shit man, NO!"

Frankie smiled and said slowly, as though speaking to a small child or an idiot, “Because of the cheap construction and the fact that most pro teams avoid it at all costs. Besides, how does anyone with hands smaller than a shovel reach those Shimono levers? The handlebars are freakin’ huge.”

“What’s this, Charlie?” Dante said, eyeing a huge black and blue mark on his stomach where his shirt rode up. He poked it with his finger, making him flinch and lower his arms. “You are such a spaz. If you can’t clear the logs, why don’t you just stick to the road?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “Where the real riders are, anyway?”

As he and Frankie got up to leave, Dante playfully smacked Charlie’s back then, as Charlie actually winced, said, “I do not know why you put yourself through those babyheads, Baby Boy.”

“At least I’ll be in better shape than you,” Charlie said as he tossed the specs to Mac. He tugged the bottom of his shirt, and held it down. Turning to Mac, he said, “You’re just a Euro snob. If I had the money, I’d get Shimano with those Mavic Arsis wheels. Those carbon spokes make it so high end and sexy…” Looking at Mackenzie’s lunch, he added, “So does this mean you’re not going to sell me your bike?”

“You have no soul, Charlie,” Frankie said as she got up from the table, tray in hand. “That’s why you’d never get Campy. You ride Shimano and you’re rattling down the road on white bread.” She flicked her hand at him and left to dump her garbage.

“Yeah,” Mac said, “and I’ll be cranking on focaccio. Besides, I thought you wouldn’t want Campy, so why would you buy my bike anyhow?”

“You can keep your focaccio or whatever. I’m saving up for Shimano, and then we’ll see what’s what.

“You’re saving up? How much you got so far?” This was the first Mackenzie had heard this news. She thought Charlie was all about the mountain biking. Except, she conceded, then why would he bother going on the Vermont trip?

He pulled out a little black notebook with dark blue trim and fanned the pages in front of Mac’s face. He covered the balance with his thumb, but she could see he’d scribbled in a long list of numbers – deposits, she assumed. “I have enough for a down payment,” he bragged. “Well, almost enough.” He blushed when Mac smiled. “Okay, half that. So I’m not as big a cheapskate as you and it takes me longer to save.”

“Maybe you just don’t want it as much. I am desperate to have this bike, Charlie. You have to be.”

“You have no idea,” Charlie said, and walked away from the table.

* * *

It was gorgeous and Mac couldn’t stop staring at it.

“It is completely stunning,” Otis said. “I may have to give you a raise or you’re never going to work that beauty off.” Mackenzie didn’t respond. Otis snapped his fingers until she managed to break her gaze from the RoadCap she and Frankie had just finished building up. “I have to go. You guys can lock up after you pick out your pedals and stuff.” He winked at Frankie, well aware that Mac had decided on every detail months before.

“Okay,” Mackenzie said. “Thanks for staying late, O.”

After he left and they finished up the last details on the RC, Frankie said, “I better get home.” She began putting the tools away. “Geez, Mac you’re looking at that sled like it’s your new best friend.” She smiled. “Should I be jealous?’

“Of course,” Mac said, grinning. She walked around the RC, in her own world. She lowered her voice, imitating one of those cheesy, overly dramatic commercials, and said, “It is no mere bicycle. This is your trusty steed. Your means of…escape.”

“We’re only going to Vermont.” Frankie snorted. “And by the way, we have to come back.”

Not if I had my way. Except for Lily. She’s worth coming home to. “Too bad, huh?” She said aloud. “If we could bottle that ride-zen we’d be rolling in it.”

“Totally.”

They straightened up the back of the shop, turned off the lights, and locked the door, leaving Mac’s old bike inside. She’d pick it up another day.

“Geez, it’s pitch black out here,” Frankie said. “Tell Otis to fix the light, would you?” They strapped on their helmets and were about to take off when they heard gravel crunching behind them in the dark. They whirled around.

“Who’s there?” Frankie asked, squinting into the darkness. The girls looked at each other. “Say something!” Frankie called out.

“I am the ghost of crappy components!”

“Charlie!”

Frankie said, “Like I always say, you are such an asshole.”

“It’s my best quality,” he replied, approaching the RC. He whistled, soft and low. It was an appreciative gesture, Mac knew, but there was a longing under it that made her skin crawl.

“It’s your only quality, Charlie,” Frankie said.

“Like I haven’t heard that before?”

He stretched his hand out to stroke the seat, but Mackenzie jerked it out of his reach. It weighed so little that when she twisted it away from him, he got knocked in the shin with the gear wheel. “You can look, but you better not touch,” she said.

Charlie grimaced and rubbed his leg. “I hear that’s your motto, Mackenzie.”

Frankie got on her bike and adjusted her helmet. “C’mon, Mac, let’s go.”

Mac gestured for Frankie to wait. “What’s that supposed to mean, Charlie?”

He strolled toward his bike, still unable to tear his eyes away from the RoadCap. “When you tease a guy, it’s just not fair, Skater.”

“Hey, you want to touch an RC, find another, because you’re not getting your hands on mine,” Mackenzie said.

Charlie laughed, but there was nothing nice in it. “Yep, that’s exactly what I heard. When a guy can’t get his hands on yours, he has to find another.” His cackle was swallowed up in the darkness as he rode away.

Mackenzie stood in the same spot, her eyes darting about, trying to follow her ricocheting thoughts. “What’s he talking about, Frankie?” But she knew. And even though she thought she’d moved on, it still hurt, knowing Grady was seeing someone else.