Stories from the Back of His Motorcycle

“So how was your weekend?” Delia toyed with a blonde curl that had fallen free from its band. She was perched delicately on the bonnet of my car as we soaked up the brief sunshine which had appeared eventually in this early spring season. We weren’t concentrating on each other. She was smiling at Josh who was making his way towards us through the small congregation of other sunbathers. I was trying to discreetly watch Vaughn Hart talk to Cassidy Blockwood over by his motorcycle.

“Oh just the usual - work and then homework.” I chose not to mention my little run-in with that boy knowing she’d just make a big deal out of it. ‘It means he likes you’ she’d nudge me ‘you should go over and say hi’. Yeah, I’ll just go up there and bump the beautiful Cassidy out of the way. Maybe she’ll break a nail and the war will be won. Or maybe I’ll just be sensible and rational. God, Delia was such a romantic.

Josh eventually reached us and wasted no time with stupid things like a polite greeting, taking Delia up into his arms. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him or anything; I just had this feeling that he was one day going to break Delia’s heart. It was probably just my cynical view on love and not a representation of Josh’s character though. He was a nice boy and did look at my best-friend like she was the most important thing in the world.

And, okay, I was just a little jealous. The way she fit into his arms so perfectly made me want to simultaneously hurt someone and die on the spot. It was always awkward feeling like a third wheel so I pushed myself away from my car and moved slowly up towards school.

If love did really exist then fate was rubbing it in my face like nothing else. Every girl seemed to have a boy attached to their hand and every boy seemed to wear a love-struck grin over their face. I even felt like a third-wheel when I wasn’t with anyone.

“Hey Alice!”

I turned my head, the wind catching my mass of brown hair and whipping it into my face so I was blinded. But I knew who it was. That annoyingly strong husky voice was unmistakable. “What?”

Vaughn was striding along, Cassidy forgotten, across the parking lot to where I was frozen. My face flushed scarlet as upturned faces traced his line of direction to me. I could almost hear their whispers. Why’s Vaughn calling to Alice Thornberry like that? She’s not so special. She’s just some shy nerd.

“Go away Vaughn,” I said tersely “you’re making a scene.”

He’d caught up to me and was standing just a few inches away. “Just coming to school makes a scene in this place,” he shrugged. The bell wouldn’t ring for another few minutes, leaving me with no excuse for escape. I cast desperate eyes over to Delia but she was still canoodling with Josh.

“Well it’s no wonder. I mean who else had a motorbike-?”

“-That Carl dude,” Vaughn cut across me, eyes sloping over to the rather tatty second-hand bike that did indeed belong to Carl Garfield.

“And smokes-.”

“-Jamie.”

“And skips school-.” I tried again desperately but already knew I had lost.

“-Carl and Jamie,” Vaughn smiled triumphantly. I rolled my eyes and pulled my cardigan closer around my shoulders. Even though the sun was out the temperature didn’t make it past cold. “Just face it Alice,” he eyed the goose bumps rising on my exposed hands “I’m this school’s God.”

I scoffed even though he was right “you need to get over yourself.”

He shrugged again, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket and placing it carefully between his teeth. “That’s a nasty habit,” I pointed out.

“Sure is,” he grinned proudly. I shot him a you’re-really-bizarre look before backing away a few paces. “But that’s no reason to run away.”

“I’m not running away stupid; I just value my lungs enough not to get them clogged up with second hand smoke.”

“It’s your lucky day then ‘cos this baby is staying unlit.” He raised his hands as if to show me there was no lighter hidden there – not that it made me step any closer. He sighed and shortened the gap between us again himself. “You’re pretty closed off huh Alice?”

“Nope, I’m like an open book,” I said sarcastically.

“Didn’t you enjoy my visiting you this weekend? It’s pretty hot that you work in a coffee shop.”

“Oh yeah, that blue apron drives all the boys wild,” my sarcasm knew no boundaries today. He grinned, the cigarette twisting to the side between his lips. “And no Vaughn I did not appreciate you just dropping into my place of work and holding up a line of angry customers.”

“But I did help with the cash register.”

“Yeah… why did you do that anyway?”

“What can I say,” the cigarette danced around his lips “I’m just a nice guy.”

“Nice guys don’t do the things you do.”

“Are you judging me Alice?” he cocked his head to the side and watched me squirm. I knew I didn’t have the right to just assume Vaughn was a horrible person but some of the things I’d heard… they were enough to assure me of this. It wasn’t like he was a good boy anyway – his smoking and driving a motorcycle were surely enough to prove that.

“No…” I wasn’t really sure of myself.

“You don’t know me sweetheart so don’t pretend to.”

“Well just leave me alone then. I don’t have a problem with not knowing you but you just don’t leave me alone,” I snapped hotly.

He just smirked and finally lit his cigarette. I watched in disgust as the end burnt red, Vaughn exhaling a small smoke cloud to the sky. “I think,” he said slowly “that it would be best kept that way.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked just as the bell rang and drowned out a few of my words. Did he think I couldn’t handle his bad reputation? Or was it that he didn’t want to know me? Not that this really bothered me but I liked to know if I was being insulted.

He shrugged and stubbed out the cigarette beneath his foot. It took me a few moments to realise Vaughn was already halfway to the school so I reluctantly jogged to catch up. I didn’t care if people were staring at me oddly or that Cassidy Blockwood’s eyes were narrowed to mere slits.

“Hey Vaughn!” I yelled “stop walking so damn fast and wait a second.”



“What the hell is that?”

Vaughn licked over his lips quickly before leaning further back into his chair. “What does it look like? A bomb?”

I evaluated the sheet of paper resting in front of him and then the pencil poised in his fingers – no longer blunt. “It looks like work to me but surely that’s impossible. Vaughn Hart and work together is like Cassidy Blockwood and a brain, it just doesn’t make sense.”

“For all you know miss I’m-going-to-judge-everyone, Cassidy could be extremely intelligent. Maybe she’s secretly a physician or author.”

“Yeah,” I rolled my eyes and rested an elbow on the wood of our desk “and I’m Britney Spears.”

“I wish,” he smirked. “But in all seriousness, I’m not the idiot you seem to think I am.”

“I never said you were an idiot.”

“I think you did once, or maybe more than once, on various occasions,” he grinned. I watched those lips part to reveal various white teeth – thankfully untouched by the nicotine – and felt myself forget what had just been said.

“Uhh… okay.”

He shot me a quizzical look before smirking again, probably guessing that my momentary space-out was due to him and his damn perfect smile. “So, been having any interesting dreams lately?”

“Dreams?” I asked in a volume I only risked because we had a substitute teacher. Miss Rigeti had a dentist appointment – one which she felt the need to tell us all about. We knew almost every inch of her mouth from which molars needed to be cleaned better to what canine had to be taken out last year. It was always uncomfortable to see Miss Rigeti the day after an appointment because she would relay exactly what ‘Doctor Jasper’ had told her. It could get pretty ugly.

“Yes, dreams Alice.”

“Not really,” I actually sat there and tried to remember any dreams for a few minutes before I realised it was ridiculous. “Why do you want to know anyway?”

“Just curious,” his smile told me there was something more. Something that I probably didn’t even want to know about.

“What about you then? Vaughn Hart been having any dreams about unicorns and rainbows?” It was my turn to smirk at him, fiddling with a brown strand of hair which had fallen into my face.

“My dreams,” he said, watching me intently “are probably not suitable to be recalled in a classroom environment.”

“Ugh,” I shifted my chair dramatically away from him “you’re such a boy.”

“What was your first clue?”

I gave him a doubtful look before breaking out into loud uncontrollable laughter. Did he really expect me to answer that question? I was like some pubescent girl all over again – my mind falling into the gutter far quicker than it should.

“Miss Thornberry?” a shrill voice an octave higher than normal peoples called out. I looked up to see a purple faced Miss Octavia standing before our desk. Instantly my laugher died. Vaughn, though, seemed unperturbed and carried on smirking.

Miss Octavia was the librarian who doubled as a supply teacher whenever the school was particularly low on staff. She knew nothing about English except that it was spoken in our country and most of the books in her library were written in it. That’s why – when she strolled in here this morning – we all knew that today would be practically a free period.

However, just because she was inept at the subject didn’t mean she felt that we shouldn’t be working hard at it, even if ‘it’ was nothing at all. Her husband, the previous librarian, had died a few years ago – leaving her with a strict duty to be permanently seen in black and a legacy of books to follow. He had been the kind of man who would let you off for an over-due book. She was the kind of woman who would be hovering with the penalty before the due date even passed.

“I am sick of you completely disregarding the rules of this classroom,” she held out a laminated sheet of the very rules she spoke of. My eyes flickered across them even though I knew every one practically off by heart.

1- Listen to others
2- Raise your hand to answer a question
3- If the teacher says silence then that means silence
4- Complete work to its highest standard
5- Always try your best
6- Do not disrupt others’ learning.

In the last five minutes I’d broken at least two of these. Maybe three.

“Detention for you, thirty minutes after school.”

“But that’s not fair,” I felt the need to protest. Half an hour for something as petty as being too loud in a classroom filled with plenty of other conversations was bordering on criminal. Vaughn had been just as noisy as me and yet Miss Octavia hadn’t even looked at him. Her eyes were too busy burning into me with an intensity which betrayed her general loathing for all teenagers.

“What isn’t fair,” she said coldly as she strode back to her chair “is that I have to sit in here for a whole hour when there are books in dire need to be sorted. Thirty minutes in the library after school, that’s final.”

I blew some stray hair away from my eyes and then gritted my teeth. She was such a mean woman! Who else would dish out detentions like that unless they were bitter about life? I suspected that she secretly just needed some help with the teeming library and, instead of paying someone, had recruited me free of charge through punishment.

Vaughn turned amused eyes onto me. “How is it,” I hissed darkly “that I’m the one here with the detention when you stink of cigarette smoke and were probably noisier than I was?”

It had always been like this with teachers and Vaughn. It’s as if he held some ‘get out of detention free’ card that nobody else had. When a food fight was started by Vaughn a few months back it was passed off as ‘a way for him to vent pent up aggression in a non-violent way’. When Vaughn was caught cheating then the blame was shifted to the poor soul who happened to be sitting too close to him. Even if there was proof of Vaughn’s guilt he would still get off scot-free. Totally untouchable.

“It’s a gift,” he shrugged. He inclined his head towards me so his lips were just centimetres from my ear “you see,” he whispered “they’re all secretly scared of me.”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t think Miss Octavia is afraid of anyone.” I cast a long glance towards her, taking in the sour expression on her wrinkled face.

“You’d be surprised,” Vaughn gazed out of the window, his voice suddenly distant “of just what some people are scared of.”