From What I Remember (9 page)

’m running for my life. Because that’s what’s in the computer. My screenplay, my valedictorian speech, my journal—my life. And nothing’s backed up. What can I say? I know there’s no excuse, and yet…I didn’t do it. This would be funny if it weren’t so tragic, which is kind of the story of my life. I look back and realize Max must have given up. Not like I expected his help or anything. The thief is wiry and fast. He looks younger than me. What is he doing stealing backpacks from Starbucks? He should be in school. I push with everything I’ve got. I’m gaining on him. Just a few more feet and I’ll be able to grab it. I’m closing in. I reach out for my backpack, which swings around on his arm like a monkey. I miss. I try again. This time, my hand latches on to the strap. But he tugs and the backpack slips from my grip. I stretch forward as far as I can, trying to catch the strap in my fingers, but I lose my balance and crash to the sidewalk. I’m going at such a fast clip, I roll over a few times before coming to a stop on the pavement, my jeans, wrist, and elbow etched with cuts and scrapes.

I watch helplessly as he jumps onto a dirt bike parked at the curb, and peels out. He must be one of those street kids who hangs around the beach and spins on his bike all day long. San Diego is crawling with them. I’ve never given them much thought. Now I understand how they afford their designer sweatshirts and tricked-out bikes. I fall back onto the sidewalk, defeated. I am so royally screwed.

“Hey, get in,” a voice calls out.

I lift my head to see a car pulling up to the curb. Max stares at me from inside a sparkling new Beemer.

I don’t respond at first. I’m too stunned that Max is actually here.

“C’mon, Kylie. I’ll take you to school.”

“I’m not going to school. I’ve got to get my computer back. There’s no point to anything without it.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic?”

“No! I need my computer.…” And then I burst into tears. So humiliating.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Fine what?”

Max gets out of the car and helps me up.

“Shit, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scrape.” I take a few deep breaths and try to pull it together.

Max puts his arm around my waist and helps me into the car. I hurt all over from the fall. I’m completely embarrassed from my emotional outburst, and yet the only thing occupying my mind is Max’s proximity. He’s really close. Close enough to make me flush. His touch is soothing—warm and firm. He smells like coconut shampoo and coffee. I can feel the blood rushing up my spine. This is too strange. Max Langston has his arm around me. Even stranger, Max Langston is going to help me.

“For the record, I think this is a terrible idea,” Max says as he gets into the car.

I don’t say anything, because Max is right. Still, the fact remains that I’ve got to get my computer back. There really is no alternative. Max guns the engine and the car shoots forward. I guess it’s a good thing he’s got a Beemer, because my Mom’s old Honda takes about an hour to gather speed.

“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” I say.

“Yeah, well, if we make it out alive, you can buy me a drink or something.”

We power down the street, hugging the road. Before long, we catch sight of the guy on his bike, expertly weaving in and out of traffic. Max is on him in minutes, but he’s elusive. First we see him, then we don’t, as he darts around cars and through lights. He’s obviously done this before. Max is switching lanes like crazy, trying to keep pace.

“So what’s on the computer that’s so important?”

“For one, my valedictorian speech for Saturday…”

“But you backed it up, didn’t you?”

“No. I didn’t back it up. I have a ton of stuff on my plate. So, no. I messed up. Okay?” Max is helping me out and I’m yelling at him. What is wrong with me? This is so not the way normal people behave. Then again, I’m a little stressed at the moment. Hopefully, I can chalk it up to that. Though I doubt it. More likely, I can blame it on my extreme lack of social skills.

Max doesn’t say anything. There’s an awkward silence as we trail the bike for a few blocks. I’ve got to learn to edit myself. If I get my computer back, I vow to try.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” I say. It’s the second time I’ve apologized for being a bitch. At a certain point, if it walks like a bitch and talks like a bitch…“It’s just, I spent five months writing my speech, and then I’ve got a screenplay I’ve been working on for two years, and it’s…it’s kind of a big deal—”

“Also not backed up, I’m guessing.” Max smiles. He’s got a really beautiful smile. Perfect white teeth, dimples. No wonder every girl at Freiburg has a crush on him.

The bike makes a sudden turn off on Kearney Villa Road, maneuvering through three lanes of cars.

“Quick, he’s turning,” I cry out.

“Yeah, I see. It’s gonna be kinda hard to get out of here. There are cars everywhere.”

There’s a lot of honking as Max snakes his way through five lanes of traffic, nearly colliding with several cars. At one point, I shut my eyes, not wanting to see what I’ve wrought.

But then, miraculously, we’re on the exit ramp, unscathed.

“Impressive,” I say.

“Yeah, I’ve got mad driving skills. Don’t know shit about American history though.”

Unfortunately, we’re about thirty seconds too late.

As we turn onto Kearney Villa Road, the bike pulls up to the side of an orange-and-white U-Haul truck. Two guys climb out of the truck and approach the biker. They look exactly like the kind of guys you don’t want to mess with. Muscled up, bald, badass. They almost look like twins except that one is crazy tall, maybe over six-three, and the other one is at least a head shorter. Kind of a Mini-Me. If they weren’t so scary looking, it would actually be kind of a funny sight gag.

The biker pulls stuff, and more stuff, from his seemingly bottomless backpack and hands it off to the men. iPods, small electronics, and my backpack are among the stash. One of the men presses a wad of cash into the biker’s hand. And then, as fast as it all began, it ends, and the biker disappears down the deserted street.

All we can do is pull over and watch.

“That is some serious shit going down,” Max says.

“It feels like we’re in a Michael Mann movie or something. I didn’t think this kind of thing happened in real life.”

“Welcome to the other side of the tracks.”

“Ah, news flash, I live on the other side of the tracks and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

We watch as the two men load their newly acquired goods into the back of their truck, jump into the front, and drive off. Forget the Michael Mann movie. That’s too good for these guys. It’s more like some cheesy action movie on TNT. Except it’s real. It’s happening to me. And it sucks.

Max starts up the car and makes a left turn. “What are you doing? Where are we going?” I demand.

“Back to Freiburg. This thing has just blown up. This is not some kid on a bike anymore. He’s working with other people. Probably very bad people. We don’t want to get involved. And we’re missing the last day of school. This is actually the one day this year I didn’t want to miss.”

“Stop the car. I want to get out.”

“No way. Are you kidding me?”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, but my valedictorian speech is on that computer.”

“So, write a new one.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll toss off another one this afternoon.”

“Just say whatever comes to mind. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for that brilliant advice, but that’s not how it works. If you knew anything about writing, you’d know it takes weeks, months, to get something right.”

“If you say so,” Max says, clearly not really listening, not really caring. Screw him.

Max is about to head back onto the freeway, which is when I jump out of the moving car. Not smart. Especially since I’m already banged up from my fall.

Max pulls over and rolls down his window. “I will buy you a new computer and a backup drive, okay? Just get in the car.”

I don’t respond. I turn and walk down the street. I can see the U-Haul stopped at a light, heading the other way. Max jumps out, rushes up to me, and gets right in my face.

“Seriously, Kylie, what are you doing? You’re going to run after the truck? Like some kind of superhero? Why don’t you quit while you’re still alive?”

“I can’t.” I wish I could. But it’s true. I can’t. Max obviously doesn’t understand.

“I know it’s a huge drag, but there’s nothing you can do.”

I know he’s trying to be nice when what he’d really like to do is dump me right here on the side of the road. I’m sure he’d rather be anywhere but here. And frankly, so would I.

I keep walking. Max follows me.

“Let’s call the police,” he says.

“We don’t have time. We’ll lose them.”

It’s at this point that I glance over at the Beemer. The driver’s side door is wide open. I can see that Max has left the keys in the car. I make a snap decision to do something I know I will regret later. But I just can’t help myself.

I turn, race back to the car, and jump into the driver’s seat. Max figures out what I’m doing a split second too late. I’m already gunning the engine.

“You coming?” I ask.

“Kylie, you are totally extreme,” Max says. Strangely, he doesn’t seem as annoyed as I thought he’d be. More surprised. He doesn’t protest as he slides in shotgun and looks over at me. “So, what’re you gonna do, Scooby-Doo?”

I laugh, despite my desperation. “Follow them at a distance. See where they’re going. If it seems dangerous, I’ll bail. Promise.”

Max looks at his watch. “I’ll give you a half hour.”

ime’s up. Nothing much has happened. We’ve been following the truck for a half hour as it heads south. The U-Haul isn’t in any hurry, just cruising. We’re keeping a safe distance. “Do you, uh, wanna turn around?” Kylie asks as she glances at the clock. “Not yet.” Kylie looks relieved. I’m giving her a little more time. I’m not sure why, exactly. I guess I’m kinda digging the adventure. I don’t usually do crazy shit like this, but once Kylie jumped into the driver’s seat, I was kind of into it.

I always thought she was such a weirdo. She’s barely spoken to anyone but Will in six years, but suddenly she’s all crazy tough. It was hot, the way she took control. Lily would never do that. I know I should make Kylie turn the car around, that this can’t lead anywhere good, but I’m not ready. Things have been so stressed lately, with Dad, college, squash, and graduation. I’m happy to skip out on real life for a while, follow a U-Haul, and play action hero. It feels good to get out. So what if it’s the last day of school? It’s not like anything that great happens. It’s all about the parties after school, and I’ll definitely be back for that.