Page 55 of Chasing Stardust

“I can’t help it! When I’m nervous, every thought in my head comes tumbling—” A siren wails in the distance, commanding my attention. “We need to get out of here.”

“How?” Dash raises his eyebrows. “You broke the car.”

I can’t think of a single comeback. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am a magnet for disaster. But if my mom could dumpster dive and shoplift in broad daylight, I can sure as hell outrun a few out-of-shape bikers. I grab his hand and squeeze. “We run.”

“Solid plan.” Dash pulls me behind him. “Come on.”

We sprint toward the snarled shrubs at the edge of the next yard, but John and the dark-haired woman catch up to us before we get past the wall of greenery.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” the biker bellows.

“Please don’t kill us,” I whimper, licking rain from my lips and wishing I’d kissed Dash when I had the chance.

John looks down his long nose at me. “Do I look like a killer to you?” When I don’t respond, he exhales a heavy breath. “We’re just cleaning up the drugs in our town.”

“That’s good. Drugs are . . . they’re . . . my grandma smokes a lot of pot.” I shake off Dash’s hands as he tries to pull me behind him again. I’ve got this. “That’s why we’re here. I was supposed to be spreading my mom’s ashes with my grandma, but my sister fell off the roof, and I crashed into an armadillo, and then I met Dash, but his car died. Then we lost our ride. I swear I didn’t mean to set the man’s chickens free. And I definitely didn’t know Itchy was a . . . a freaking drug dealer! Did you . . . is he . . . ? No. Don’t tell me. I don’t think I wanna know.”

John bursts out laughing, putting an end to my word vomit. “Sounds like you’ve had a shitty day.”

“You have no idea. This one—” Dash exhales a nervous laugh and glances at me. “Magnet for disaster.”

My mouth drops open.

“What’s this about your car dying?” John asks.

Dash blows out a breath. “My Tesla’s battery died a few miles past the Baptist church.”

John nods and then walks over to one of the motorcycles in the driveway and throws a leg over. “We’ll give y’all a ride and send a tow truck.”

I gape at Dash. “He’s kidding, right?”

“I’m dead serious.” John winks and pats the seat behind him. “Now, hop on.”

“Shouldn’t we have helmets?” I dart my gaze between the two bikers. I can only imagine what Jeanie would say right now.

John cocks an eyebrow, and Mom’s voice pops into my head. Just think, Zoey. This’ll make for a great entry in your own diary.

“Fine.” I groan and throw a shaky leg over, then settle into the soft leather.

John cranks the bike to life, and the vibrations rattle my bones.

He turns to the woman. “You ready, Kitty?”

“Sure am.” She blows him a kiss and climbs on her own bike, swiveling her head toward Dash. “You got a red S under that fancy shirt of yours?”

“No.” Dash flinches and turns a bright red. “No letters under my shirt.”

“He does have Superman under—” I start, but Dash’s glare stops me cold.

John chuckles. “Not even gonna ask.”

Kitty waves Dash over. “Come on. Don’t keep me waiting, pretty boy.”

With his face twisted into a sour frown, Dash climbs on behind her.

“Hold on tight!” John shouts. “And keep yer mouth shut or you’ll be pickin’ bugs from your teeth all night.”

With my tote wedged between my front and John’s back, I barely get my arms around him before his bike jumps forward over the loose pavement. We rocket down the highway, my hair flying behind me like a cape.