Page 67 of The False Flat

A shot was fired into the air, and along with it, a rainbow rained down on all the riders as if a leprechaun had leaped across the road to his pot of gold.

The loud cheers and giddy laughter momentarily stunned me, and I was nearly run over as wheels started moving forward.

“You okay?” Grant’s voice strained over the crowd’s excitement.

“I think so. Just wish I’d listened to William and hadn’t opened my mouth.” My tongue flicked against my palate as I tasted the slightly bitter powder that had been thrown in my face.

A gust of laughter shot out of him. “Rookie mistake. Yellow suits you, though.”

I puffed a small cloud of yellow powder in Grant’s direction as he and Elaine rode off. I hated the way his compliment slowed me down and made me want to wear yellow every day from now on.

I didn’t see them again until the green station, where lime-colored powder was caked on top of our already red, orange, and yellow forms.

Deanna caught me watching Grant and Elaine throw fistfuls of powder at each other. “She’s nice, isn’t she?”

“Very. They make a cute couple.”

“You hate her, don’t you?”

I choked, my arms flopping by my sides. “How can I possibly hate her? She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She’s beautiful. She’s funny.”

“And you actively avoid her.”

My hands went to my face. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah. Probably just to me. To everyone else, you’re Prickly Pen.” She winced when my head whipped toward her.

“Is that what people call me?”

She shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I adore you, but you don’t always give off the friendliest vibe. If I hadn’t caught you with your guard down at the store that day, we probably wouldn’t be friends now.”

My mouth dropped open, which was ridiculous because I knew this about myself.

“I’m kidding. Mostly. But you could stand to lighten up. It’s okay to live. It’s also okay to like Grant.”

“I don’t like Grant.” The words shot out of my mouth like a cannon; then I picked up a pile of powder and catapulted it into Deanna’s face. Playfully, I hoped. All fun and games here. No repressed feelings.

She huffed, rubbed her eyes, and spit powder out. “I know you went to the restaurant to meet Grant when you found out I couldn’t make it.”

Fire. My face was on fire. “So? I felt sorry for him, and we’re friends.”

“If you were friends, you wouldn’t have pretended it was a coincidence.”

I blinked. “How do you—did you tell him?”

“Of course not. What kind of friend do you think I am?” She spit again. “There’s no denying Elaine’s a good fit for Grant, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone better. They haven’t been dating that long. He started dating her about six weeks before you moved here.”

That made over six months. That wasn’t a long time? “Grant deserves someone like Elaine.”

“Grant deserves someone who loves him as much as he loves her.” Deanna shrugged and put her feet on her pedals. “Maybe that’s Elaine, maybe it isn’t.” Her hand moved, and before I could react, I was covered from head to toe in green powder.

Ol’ Prickly Pen had that one coming.

On our way to the next station, the sun vanished, and rain poured in sheets. Nearly drowned out by the sound, a man shouted into his cupped hands and directed all the riders to a large rec center a short distance away.

Bikers pushed toward shelter, through the puddles rapidly forming in the grass. William, Deanna, Elaine, and I were moving in the same direction until I realized Grant wasn’t with us.

I looked back toward the path. And there he was, alone on the paved trail, legs straddling not-Gaia, arms outstretched, face to the sky as rain danced around him, completely uninhibited. Like nothing else mattered.