روفس

RUFUS

1:46 p.m.

I gotta keep it moving.

I want more than anything to sit across from the Plutos and talk about nothing, but the next best thing to break me out of this mood is a bike ride. It’s what I did after my parents and Olivia died, and when Aimee broke up with me, and this morning after beating down Peck and getting the alert. Once we’re away from the chaos I get on the bike, flexing the brakes. Mateo dodges my gaze. “Please get on,” I say. It’s the first time I’ve spoken since being thrown in the air like a wrestler.

“No,” Mateo says. “I’m sorry. It’s not safe.” “Mateo.”

“Rufus.”

“Mateo.”

“Rufus.”

“Please, Mateo. I gotta ride after what went down and I don’t wanna leave you behind. We’re supposed to be living, period. We know how this ends for both of us, but I don’t wanna look back on any moment thinking we straight wasted it. This isn’t some dream and we won’t wake up from this.” I don’t know what else I can do. Get on my knees and beg? It’s not my style, but I’ll give it a go if it gets him to come with me.

Mateo looks seasick. “Promise to go slow, okay? Avoid going down any hills and through puddles.” “Promise.”

I hand him the helmet, which he’s refusing, but there’s no way in hell I’m more at risk than he is. He straps the helmet on, hangs the bookstore bag from the handlebar, climbs on the rear pegs, and grips my shoulders.

“Is this too tight? I just don’t want to fall, helmet or not.” “No, you’re fine.”

“Cool.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

I pedal, slowly, feeling the burn in my calves as I carry two people forward; it’s like running up a hill. I find a good rhythm and put the police and corpses and destroyed gym behind us.