My Motorcycle Guardian

I started awake to a gentle hand shaking my shoulder. "Hanna? Hanna wake up."

I groaned and batted away Rachel's hand. "No..." I moaned weakly.

"Hanna, Miss Pave is at the window."

My eyes snapped open.

"And it's your turn to open it."

Groaning, I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I blinked at Rachel, who smiled apologetically. She gestured to the window to her left and I finally heard the gentle tapping coming from the glass.

Our class didn't seem to hear nor notice, for they continued to talk carelessly with each other like they didn't have a worry in the world.

Sighing, I rose to my feet and stumbled to the window. As I walked, I drew the eyes of my fellow classmates and they hurriedly scrambled for their seats, knowing what was coming.

I yanked up the blinds and unlatched the window. It swung open and our teacher rolled through. The class fell silent. Miss Pave was probably the youngest teacher in our school, and her youth and agility was probably one of the reasons she was still able to climb through the window of our second story building unseen by the principal.

I mean, not that this was an uncommon occurrence. She usually showed up late to class. Just...through the window. No one knew why, but the mystery was half the fun.

"Thank you Hanna, " Miss Pave said, beaming as she straightened her leather jacket and smoothed out her blonde hair. I just gave her a tired grin before slipping back into my seat. She looked out across the small sea of watching faces and sighed. "Sorry guys. Traffic."

Rachel and I exchanged doubtful looks. Some kids behind us started to exchange their bet winnings on what excuse she would use today.

One by one, we began to pass up our work sheets she had assigned us yesterday to do today while she was gone. I glanced down at my own and grimaced at the puddle of drool in the corner. I wiped most of it off and stuck it at the bottom of the pile, handing the stack to Miss pave with an innocent smile.

"Thank you, Hanna. Now, can anyone tell me where we left off in The Odessy?" She set the worksheets down at her desk before turning back to face us. She frowned at our silence. "No one?"

"They were at that witch chicks place!" Someone called out from the back of the class.

Miss Pave rolled her eyes as the class giggled. "Thank you, Jay, for that wonderful assumption."

The class snickered and I joined Miss Pave in rolling my eyes. I went to raise my hand but Rachel beat me to it. "Miss Pave? If I may, we left off with Odysseus and his men approaching Circe's island." Rachel said, sitting as straight as a ruler. I internally scowled. Did she have to sound so much like Herminone freaking Granger?

"Yes!" Miss Pave cried. "Thank you, Durman. For that accurate answer." She shot a meaningful look back in Jay's direction and the class giggled again. She powered up the projector and the page we left off on flickered to life. "Who wants to read first?"

Before anyone could volunteer, the door to our class burst open and we all stiffened. Mr. Newman filled the door frame in all his mighty principal glory. He was scowling, and I felt the blood leave my face.

"I see you finally care to show up, Miss Pave?" He snarled.

Miss Pave paled but offered him a feeble smile. "Mister - Mister Newman! Can I - How can I help you?" She casually leaned against her desk. I grimaced. Miss Pave - bless her - wasn't the Drama teacher for a reason.

The class was silent, waiting with bated breath to see what would happen. Mr. Newman narrowed his eyes and reached back out the door out of view. "If you can't learn to arrive on time, Miss Pave, " he spat, " - then at least learn to control your students." Mr. Newman threw someone into the classroom.

Noah Johnson stumbled and rammed into Miss Pave's desk, scattering our papers. Instantly, his friends leapt to their feet. They hesitated, however, at a cutting look from Miss Pave. I seized the edges of my desk and squeezed tightly. Beside me, Rachel sucked in a gasp. Noah was bent over the desk, motionless.

"I caught him fighting again in the boys bathroom."

After a long moment, Miss Pave placed a hand on his back and faced Mr. Newman. Her eyes now burned, not with tears, but with a fierce protectiveness. "Understood, Mr. Newman." She muttered. Mr. Newman nodded gruffly before turning to leave. But Miss. Pave wasn't finished. "Mr. Newman?" She narrowed her eyes. "Don't ever touch my students again." Miss Pave spoke so calmly, so casually that you'd never think she was one chastise away from fainting just a moment ago.

The class held our breath as Mr. Newman eyed Miss Pave with a venomous glare. Without a word, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him with a bang.

I exhaled and slumped back. My heart rammed against my ribs hard enough to leave a bruise, and I knew I wasn't the only one. "Jesus H. Christ, " Rachel breathed, clutching at her chest. I cast her a thin smile before glancing back at Noah. He slowly peeled himself from the desk and straightened, wincing. His inky hair hung in loose locks around a ugly bruise on his cheek. I frowned. Where had that come from?

My class was still too shocked to move. Mr. Newman - despite that fact that he was probably the worst principal imaginable and probably was on all of our hit lists - had just surprised all of us by throwing a student into a desk. He yeeted Noah, I couldn't help but think. I swallowed back a snort and slipped from my chair. Crawling on the ground, I began to pick up the scattered papers.

"Petition to kill Mr. Newman!" Jay suddenly exclaimed, brandishing a piece of paper through the air. "Sign up early and you can have a say in his execution method!"

And just like that, the tension was lifted. Chuckles rippled through the class room and a fleeting smile passed over my lips. But Miss Pave was still focused on Noah. She spoke to him gently, her brow furrowed in concern. He brushed her off with a shake of his head. "I'm fine, " I heard him mutter. I slid another paper back onto the stack, pretending like I wasn't totally eavesdropping. "It was just a fight."

"Go to the nurse, Noah, " Miss Pave urged. "Get an ice pack. Lay down. Something."

Noah scoffed and rolled his eyes. Limping to the door, he slipped from the room and the class fell silent again.

I tidied the stack of worksheets and slipped them back on Miss Pave's desk. Crawling back to my seat, I clambered up and smoothed out my hair. Some of the messy blonde strands seemed to have escaped my pony tail.

Miss Pave sighed heavily and took a breath. Opening her eyes, she whirled to face the class and beamed. "Alright!" She chirped, clasping her hands together. "Who's ready to start reading?"

-

"How do you think she gets him to listen like that?" Rachel muttered. I shrugged and hugged my binder closer against me. We weaved our way through the crowd, following the flood of students towards the cafeteria.

Rachel continued, tossing her pale gold hair back over her shoulder. "I mean, he never listens to any of the other teachers."

I glanced behind us to see Noah surrounded by his friends. Jay was animatedly retelling the events that had taken place the class period before, and his audience listened with gaping mouths. Noah just walked silently in the middle of them, glaring ahead with an unreadable expression.

"Drug dealer, maybe?" I mused.

Rachel smacked my shoulder. "Be serious, Hanna!"

I rolled my eyes. Ever since freshman year, it became apparent that Noah took crap from no one. The only teacher he seemed to listen to was Miss Pave, who in my opinion, was the best teacher we had.

"Maybe he just really respects her?" I shrugged. "I mean, all our other teachers suck."

"You know what also sucks?" We both flinched as Calvin Baker wormed his way between us, throwing an arm over each of our shoulders.

"Bug off, Baker, " I scowled, squirming.

He ignored me and continued, a cocky smile plastered to his lips. "You girls this Friday, if you wanna swing by my house party for a fun time."

I gagged. Rachel wretched. "Not interested, " I spat, shoving him off.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it!" Calvin jogged after us and I rolled my eyes towards the ceiling. Dear Lord up in heaven, keep me from putting this rich bastard in his place.

"Calvin please, " Rachel gave him an apologetic smile. "We're not interested." So for the hundredth time, stop asking, you pervert.

Calvin wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me close against him. The crowd of students just parted around us, not bothering to urge us on as Calvin practically stopped in the middle of the hallway. "I got a pool table, a big flat screen, come on, " he gave me a squeeze and grinned. "It'll be great."

I narrowed my eyes. Rachel glanced from Calvin to me, her eyes wide and alarmed. "I said - "

"Hanna - "

" - not interested!" I shoved him hard. Calvin staggered and crashed into Noah and his gang, and instantly, the hallway froze.

Oh shit.

Noah pushed Calvin away, scowling. "The hell?" He spat. Oh man, I internally sang. Noah was pissed. Calvin was gonna die.

Calvin blanched. "Sorry man, " he squeaked. He reached out to brush off Noah's jacket. Noah knocked aside his hand. "It was an accident, I swear."

Noah narrowed his eyes further, then slowly looked towards where Calvin had toppled from. I tensed as his eyes locked onto me. Great, now I was the one going to die.

"What'd he do?" His question took me by surprise. I blinked.

"Pardon?"

Noah rolled his eyes and seized Calvin by the arm, keeping him in place. "What'd he do?" Noah asked again, giving Calvin a little shake. Compared to Noah, Calvin looked like a scrawny freshman. It would have been hilarious if we didn't all know just how far Noah was willing to go in a fight.

I swallowed and looked around. Everyone was watching and waiting with eager eyes. They wanted drama. They wanted gossip. Some were already recording. Rachel stood beside me, practically quaking under all the stares.

I shook my head. "Nothing, " I muttered. "It was an accident." My stomach churned. God, I hated Calvin's guts. I wanted Noah to pummel him to a pulp and leave his remains out on the burning sidewalk for the ants. But the last thing I wanted - the last thing I needed - was drama or for my mom to be called in for another sexual harassment case.

For a long moment, Noah held my gaze. Finally, he nodded and released Calvin. He scrambled away into the crowd like a frightened rabbit and the hallway was zapped back into motion. I clenched my jaw and grabbed Rachel's hand, yanking her along.

We didn't speak for the rest of the journey to the cafeteria. It went unsaid between us. Another tally on our list. Another name to look out for. Another "he said/she said" situation - that would have undoubtedly end in nothing - evaded by a lie.

I hated it.

-

"Hammy! Ray-Ray!"

A smile broke out across my face and I rolled my eyes. Rachel grinned as we beheld our idiotic friend flagging us down from across the cafeteria.

CJ began to jump up and down, waving his arms in the air like he was trying to stop a train.

This, I decided, was the reason I won't loose my shit about Calvin. Together, we broke into a sprint and closed the distance between us in seconds.

"You're back!" Rachel cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

I crashed into him a second later, nearly toppling us to the floor. "Don't ever leave us again!" I groaned, squeezing him.

CJ laughed and batted us away. "Jesus, I was gone two days!"

Rachel buried her face in his chest. "Never, ever, ever leave us again." Her voice was muffled by CJ's hoodie.

Once we released CJ, the three of us collapsed onto our lunch table, falling into our respective seats. The table was a small circle in the far corner of the cafeteria, giving us a feeling of privacy from the rest of the student body. It was just the three of us, but we didn't mind. I sure as hell didn't.

"So what was the diagnosis?" I asked, digging around in my lunch box for my sandwich.

"Samantha has a fever, Savanna has the flu, " CJ explained. He watched Rachel and I unpack our lunches with hungry eyes. His grey hoodie was dirty and rumpled, signs that he had slept in it and his brown curls ran untamed around his head.

Without a word, I shoved my lunch box across the table. CJ dove upon it with a grateful wail and started hunting for food. I just chuckled. I doubted he had much time to eat the past two days since he was taking care of his sick baby sisters. Twins, no less.

While Rachel chastised CJ on table manners, I propped my chin in my hand and let my eyes wander around the cafeteria. Everyone had their own respective groups and tables, everything was orderly, and most importantly, everyone kept their distance. Sometimes, the circular lunch tables reminded me of tiny islands in a vast ocean. Each island had their own tribe, and even though some of the tribes were friendly with each other, there was constantly a wall between them, however invisible it may be, it was always solid and present even when we weren't at lunch.

That was the problem with living in a rich neighborhood, I supposed. Everyone just befriended whoever their parents told them too and they were too terrified to get too friendly with anyone else.

I glanced two lunch tables down and spied Noah. His friend group seemed just as isolated as we were. They sat huddled together, only talking with each other and completely ignoring the rest of the cafeteria.

Noah didn't seem to be in anymore pain, which was good. He talked with his friends, shamelessly raking his hand through his black hair as he laughed at something Jay said. Jay was the class clown, or tried his best to be, at least. He usually was just written off as the school player. And I personally didn't mind, as long as he kept his distance.

Noah suddenly looked up and locked eyes with me. I jolted, caught red-handed. He furrowed his brow in a silent question, probably wondering why the heck the school outcast was creepily staring at him like a thirsty cheerleader.

I awkwardly waved and prayed he didn't think I was some sort of fan girl. The corner of Noah's lips tugged upwards before he turned back to his table.

I sighed in relief and faced my friends again. Rachel and CJ were now having a mini food fight and I rolled my eyes. No wonder why we were social outcasts. We acted like children.

"Hanna!"

I froze, one foot on the stairs. Oh Lord give me strength. Slowly, I turned around and smiled. "Hello, mother."

"Where have you been?" She snapped, striding forward in all her 5'3 glory. "And you better not give me any bull like last time!"

I gripped the stairwell. My mother hadn't even changed out of her salmon pantsuit yet, and was already yelling at me. "With Rachel, " I said slowly. "We were at the library."

She narrowed her eyes, and I held my breath. "Were you with anyone else?"

My grip tightened. "CJ..."

"Hanna!" I flinched. "You know what I think of that...that boy." She hissed, looking ready to spit venom.

I gritted my teeth. "Mom!" I took a defensive step forward. "He's my friend!"

"He's a menace! All of his kind are!"

"His kind? Mom, he's poor, not a chimera."

She shuddered and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "But sweetie, you could have so many more better friends! Like Rebecca Walters from down the street, or -"

"I don't want new friends! CJ and Hanna are my friends!"

" - or perhaps Tony? Remember Tony Brown?"

"Mom!" My voice echoed around us and my mom fell silent, glaring at me from the base of the stairs. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "CJ has been my friend since elementary. I'm not stopping just because his family isn't stupid rich!"

My mom narrowed her eyes further. I met her gaze in a silent challenge, daring her to say more. Finally, after the silence grew too long to handle, she turned away. "Fine, " she muttered. "Have a bad taste in friends. Just do yourself a favor and don't blow your date with Adam Sanders tomorrow."

I groaned and closed my eyes, tilting my head towards the ceiling. God, I had forgotten about that. And I wish I had kept it from my mind. In a desperate attempt to force me back into the social circle of the rich, my mother's favorite pass time was to set me up with the many eligible bachelors of Hellmington. Adam Sander, who was a Freshman in college, was apparently the next on her list.

Stomping up to my room, I slammed the door and dove face-first for my bed. I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, wishing there was someway to make it all go away. Wishing for a distraction. Anything to distract me.

The loud revving of an engine startled me from my thoughts. Frowning, I lifted my head and glanced at the window. It sounded like...like a motorcycle. My frown deepened. What was a motorcycle doing on our street? Rolling off my bed, I opened the doors to my balcony and peered outside.

A single sleek motorcycle purred past, the rider masked with a black helmet and visor. I tilted my head and leaned against the railing, watching as he glanced from house to house. From here, I could see a small Go-Pro strapped to his helmet. Must be new or something, I reasoned. All the people who lived in this street were old or with children to precious and behaved to ever think about climbing on the "devil machine".

He (at least, i'm assuming he is a he. Unless that jacket was bulky enough to hide a feminine figure) revved the engine again and his purple rims spun to a blur. Like a bullet, he took off. I watched him go, slightly disappointed that he hadn't stayed longer.

I turned to go back inside and wallow in my misery some more when another purring engine came from down the road. I narrowed my eyes. What the hell?

Four sleek, black motorcycles shot down the road like the four horsemen, wreathed in power and mystery. Two flipped up into wheelies while the other two spun in tight circles. My eyes widened. They were...playing. The rider with the camera drove around them, capturing it all on film. Scrambling back inside, I raced down the stairs and out the front door.

The hot concrete burned into the bottoms of my feet as I cut across our drive way and dove into the bushes. I peeked through the branches just in time to see one of them lean down close enough to touch the road and snatch a garden gnome as he flew past, tossed it to another rider, who planted it in another yard without ever slowing down. It was seamless. Flawless. Perfect. I felt my breath catch every time one of them flipped into a wheelie, spun in a circle, revved their engines. They eluded everything I was taught to fear. To stay away from.

Too bad I hated listening to my mother.

Casting a quick glance back at the house, I crawled closer for a better view. They rode without direction, tearing across the road and up peoples drive ways, riding with out choreographed movements or plans. They were just...living.

I rose to my feet and stepped closer, placing a hand against our mailbox. One of the riders suddenly caught sight of me and slowed. My heart skipped a beat and I resisted the urge to dive back into our bushes.

Oh God. Okay. Keep cool. You got this.

He tilted his helmeted head to the side, watching me. I swallowed and hesitantly waved. After a moment, he waved back with a gloved hand. I broke out into a grin and gave him a thumbs up. "You guys are great!" I yelled, realizing too late it was probably the most lame thing to shout ever.

The rider revved his engine, planting his boots firmly against the ground to keep his bike in place. The wheels spun and white smoke began to waft from the bike. My eyes widened. Painted flames rippled along his bike, so realistic that they looked hot to the touch. He tilted his head again then kicked up the brake, shooting off in a trail of white smoke.

"Hanna!" I winced. Glancing behind me, I saw my mother storming down the steps of the house, fuming.

I swallowed. "Mom, " I blurted. "It's okay - "

"It is very not okay!" She hissed. She grabbed my arm in a steel vise grip and I flinched. "Get inside before the neighbors see!" She tried to tug me back towards the house but I dug my heels into the ground.

"Wait, I want to watch -"

"Don't talk back to me, " she snarled, tightening her grip. "Now get inside."

The street was quiet. Then, from the silence, an engine revved. I craned my neck to see over my shoulder and blanched. All five motorcycles were still, watching us. My face flushed red. "You - you guys were awesome!" I called, struggling against my mother. She yanked me harder and I stumbled back. "Keep up the great - great work!"

"Hanna!" My mother threw me forward and I toppled into the door. I spun around just in time to see her address the motorcyclist. She shook her fist at them, scowling. "Scatter!" She yelled. "Go away before I call the police!"

I hugged the door frame, watching with a heavy heart as the motorcycles drove away until it was just one rider remaining. I felt his heavy gaze upon me and averted my eyes to my shoes. It was the rider with the fake smoke and flames.

He revved his engine again and peeled off. I watched him go. My heart pounded against my ribs and I hardly heard my mother as she chastised me. Something spectacular had just taken place, I knew it. And God, I couldn't wait for more.

***

I was dragged out from sweet, sweet sleep by the loud ping of my phone. Peeling open my eyes, I rolled over and fumbled with the charger, all the while cursing whoever had texted me. The screen lit up and I raised an eyebrow.

Who was ballsy enough to text me at five in the mother-hugger morning?

Ah, it was CJ.

Husband: HANNA!

I frowned and sat up, scrubbing a hand across my eyes. Yawning, I typed out a reply.

'You better have a damn good reason for this. What's wrong? Is it your mom?'

Husband: CHECK THE LINK I SENT YOU

I scrolled back up to the first text he sent me. It was a YouTube link. I sighed.

'Can I watch it in school?'

Husband: Watch. It. I already sent it to Rachel.

As if on cue, Rachel texted me.

Wifu: HANNA WHAT THE HELL!

Did you see the video yet?

Sending a quick glance at my door, I snuggled further under the covers and pressed the link. YouTube popped up. The video buffered for a moment before the video's intro began.

Flames licked the screen while a title appeared: THE FLAME RIDERS

Well, this looked promising.

The fire disappeared as a motorcycle tore through them, and new text appeared.

Episode 26: The New Fan

I swallowed as my stomach began to churn. Okay...less promising...but nothing to worry about yet.

The video was shot from the perspective of a Go-Pro camera. Cheerful, preppy music started to play and my vision became lined with pink and blue bubbles. The video showed shots of the large, near-perfect houses lining the street. I clamped a hand over my mouth and my eyes widened. Oh no.

Just as expected, heavy rock n' roll blasted and fierce red took the bubbles' place. Four motorcycles tore down the street, doing all the tricks I had seen yesterday, now from the perspective of the fifth rider. Through my dim terror I appreciated the angels the camera showed. The Go-Pro must have been one of those fancy ones, because the video was never from an awkward angel or had a view other than the motorcycles. Surround film, maybe.

I tapped the screen, fast forwarding until the rider suddenly stilled. The flame motorcycle purred to a halt before me - me, with my ripped jeans and messy blonde hair - and showed my awkward wave and thumbs up. The other motorcycles continued to dance off to the side, but now, the video was focused on me. Well, at least the title now made sense.

The rider rode off again and the camera remained on me, capturing the look of wonder that crossed my face as I watched the motorcyclists play in the street.

When my mom came out in the video, the music died. The riders exchanged hand gestures and they all came to a halt. The camera refocused on me fighting against my mother. God, I looked pitiful. "You - you guys were awesome!" Video-me called, struggling against my mother. "Keep up the great - great work!"

My mother forced me back inside, and the camera motorcycle drove away. Two motorcycles rode in front of him, and text appeared on the screen. By now, my stomach was knotted into a tight ball.

It read: 'Perhaps we have a new fan, here in Hellmington? Who knows. But maybe the people who live here aren't as brainless as we think. ;)'

I shut off my phone. Gaping at the wall, my mind buzzed with a million thoughts at once. Who where they? Did any kids at school see this yet? Would any kids from school see this?

I put my face in my hands and groaned loudly. Suddenly numb, I picked up the phone and looked at the channel name again.

The Flame Riders.

So there was a motorcycle gang in Hellmington, and they liked to shoot videos, and I was in one of their videos. Surely no one from school will see this, I calmed myself. CJ probably found it because he likes that kind of stuff, and the rest of Hellmington High was too picture perfect to ever watch a gang of motorcycles tear apart their precious town.

With that thought, my pulse began to slow and I exhaled, flopping back against the pillows. Every thing would be okay. I would get up in an hour, go to school, probably get chastised by Rachel, but that would be it. Nothing bad would happen.

If only I believed that.

"Miss Green? Green?" A gentle hand shook me. "Miss Green!"

I jolted awake, nearly whacking Mrs Kingstin, my Civics teacher, in the face. She jumped back just in time and I heard the class begin to giggle.

I blushed. "Sorry Mrs Kingstin, " I mumbled.

She just rolled her eyes and handed me a stack of papers. "These need to get to ISD. Tell t