Page 25 of Free Fall #1

Sejin

L eenie watches me pacing by the window for a few seconds and then goes back to getting pajamas on Jeremiah. Sarah Kate’s been in bed for the last hour and a half, and Martin’s out back mowing the lawn before the last of the light disappears.

“Is he late?” she asks, when she obviously can’t stand to see me wearing a tread into her wood floor any longer.

“Not really. He said sunset, and the sun’s not technically set yet.” I glance at my phone for the official time the sun will disappear behind the horizon. “Another six minutes, I guess, and then he’ll be late.”

“Sejinie?” Jeremiah asks, as Leenie works his feet into the footed pajamas.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Why are you nervous?” He can’t quite pronounce the word yet, so it sounds like nuhbof, and it’s adorable.

“Because…” How can I explain everything buzzing around inside me to a four-year-old? “I’m excited,” I say instead. “I hope I’m going to have fun, but I’m not sure if I will. Like when you went swimming for the first time. Remember? You were scared, but also excited.”

“Right. Are you going swimming on your date? Don’t worry, Sejinie, just hold your breath real good when you’re underwater, okay?”

I smile. “I’m not sure where we’re going actually. It’s a surprise for me.”

“A surprise!” His eyes light up, and he jerks free from Leenie’s embrace. “I love surprises! Can I go too?”

“No,” Leenie breaks it to him. “This is a surprise only for Sejin.”

His shoulders slump and just as his lower lip begins to wobble, there’s the sound of a motorcycle coming down the road at an alarming speed, louder even than Martin’s mower in the back.

I glance out the window and see the bike pull into the driveway in a spray of gravel and dust. Sweat breaks out over my brow. Holy smokes.

It’s Dan. And he’s here for me.

“Oh, wow,” Leenie says, picking up Jeremiah and peering past me. “You gonna be alright on that thing?”

My hand shakes a little as I push it into my pocket to bring out a hairband. I’d left my hair loose for the date, but I’ll definitely need to put it back if I’m expected to ride on that. My pulse pounds. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before. Do I trust Dan to be safe? Where did he even get it?

I watch as he tugs his helmet free and shakes out his short, curly hair. Leenie lets out a little sound and then says, “Oh, I see. He’s strange looking, but also… damn.”

“Wide-set eyes,” I murmur.

“Sexy way of holding himself,” she adds. And I guess it’s true. I’ve always been so captivated by his face when his clothes are on that I hadn’t entirely noticed that.

Dan looks toward the window like he knows we’re in here staring out at him, and he smiles in that way where the lower half of his face transforms into a startling slash of white. He starts up the sidewalk to the front door.

Leenie moves out of my way as I go to throw it open before he can ring the bell.

Jeremiah squirms out of Leenie’s arms, rushing out and toward Dan, who stares down at him like an alien has just burst onto his path.

“Can I ride?” Jeremiah asks, taking hold of Dan’s hand like he’s known him forever.

Jeremiah’s never met a stranger.

To his credit, though, Dan doesn’t pull away. He simply crouches down, gives Jeremiah a serious look and tells him, “Sorry, kiddo, but the bike is for grown-ups only.”

Leenie moves past me and scoops Jeremiah up, saying, “Sorry! He thinks everyone is his pal these days. We gotta work on the concept of stranger-danger. Uh, not that you’re a danger. I mean—” She blows hair out of her face and then redirects herself. “Hi, I’m Leenie.”

“Dan,” he says, offering his hand.

They shake, and Jeremiah puts out his little hand too, saying, “I’m Ja’miah. Baby Sarah Kate is sleeping.” Which sounds like sweeping, and Dan looks around as if he expects to see an infant with a broom.

“This is Jeremiah,” Leenie translates. “And my other little one is already in bed.”

She gives Jeremiah a little tickle. “Which is where this one should be now too.”

Jeremiah promptly starts squirming and protesting, working up to an anti-bedtime screaming fit. I kiss his head as he passes, twisting in Leenie’s arms as she’s on her way back inside with him. “Sleep tight, buddy.”

“I will not!” he wails.

“Later, Leenie. Tell Martin goodnight for me.”

“Sure thing. We won’t wait up.”

“Yeah, don’t,” Dan says. “Nice to meet you,” he adds, like an afterthought. His eyes are on me now as if he doesn’t want to look away. “You look good.”

I lift my hair to put it back, and he watches avidly as I secure my hair away from my face. Then his gaze skims down my front. I’m wearing some older tennis shoes, a pair of faded jeans that hang nicely, but which I also don’t mind ruining, a BlackPink merch t-shirt, and my windbreaker jacket.

Dan turns back to the motorcycle and retrieves a second helmet for me. There are two saddlebags, and I assume he’s packed whatever else we’ll need in them.

“Where’d you get the bike?” I ask.

“It belongs to my mentor.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Peggy Jo Barton. You might know her. She, uh, seems to know you.”

“Peggy Jo! She’s the coolest!” I say, grinning. “In her sixties and still going strong.”

“Yeah, she taught me to climb, and she taught me to drive her bike.” He pats the seat.

“Amazing.”

He shrugs.

“I mean, Peggy Jo is goals all day long, isn’t she?”

“She wouldn’t be my mentor if she wasn’t.”

I take the helmet he’s still holding out toward me and put it on. I must hesitate a moment as I approach the bike because his eyebrow quirks up, and he glances over toward my Versa.

“We can take your car if you’re scared.”

“Nah,” I say, a little breathlessly. “I’m good.”

I adjust the lay of my ponytail in the back, and then clasp the helmet under my chin securely. He watches, leans in, and kisses my nose softly before pecking my lips. I shiver and he smiles again, that surprising, blinding thing, before adjusting my chinstrap to be a little tighter.

“There,” he says. “That should do it.”

I feel all fluttery and flushed, but I try to keep my cool as he climbs onto the bike and shifts forward so there’s ample space on the seat behind him.

I swing my leg over, scooting close so that my crotch aligns with his ass, and I grip the unbuttoned fronts of his jean jacket.

Taking hold of my hands, he shifts them so I’m holding onto him securely around the middle.

I can feel his core strength and the flatness of his stomach beneath my forearms and hands, and the broad warmth of his back against my front.

“I’m good at this. Don’t worry,” he says, starting the bike.

The way he maneuvers us out to the road shows he’s telling me the truth, and I wave goodbye to Martin, who’s come around the side of the house with the mower now. With a roar, we drive off.

The roads he takes me on lead to higher elevations, and I’m familiar enough with the area to realize we’re heading toward Tuolumne Meadows and Tioga Road. I’d ask him why we’re going there, but the sound of the motor, the wind, and the snug fit of the helmets seem to preclude that.

As darkness comes down around us, the night feels big.

The stars are bright pinpricks above, mixed with smudgy, wispy clouds, and the moon is barely over the horizon, not giving off a ton of light.

The forest around us amplifies the mystery, and I hold on tighter to him, feeling the wind buffeting my body as Dan drives into the night, illuminated mostly by the headlight of the bike.

The vibrations of the engine rattle me all over, especially my butt and thighs.

I’m unaccustomed to the tension required to stay on the bike, and the way I clench all over, bracing myself, when we round a curve feels like a workout.

It’s not that it isn’t fun, but it’s scary too, and something about that feels right when I’m with Dan.

This isn’t us in the back of his van getting naked and taking each other to the sky.

This is us on a bike, in a forest, heading into a night of mystery, but my blood pounds with the same intensity.

My muscles are tight and tired by the time Dan slows down, turning onto some dirt paths, taking us off the main road and into the area near the meadow.

I’m not sure where we’re headed exactly, but like I said, I know the general location.

When he slows and eventually stops, I cling to his back for a few more seconds, letting myself adjust to the way we’re still now, no longer whooshing through the world.

Then I lean back, and Dan climbs from the parked bike first to help me off.

My legs feel rubbery and strange as I remove my helmet and give it to him to stow away. I stamp my feet against the ground.

“Okay?” Dan asks, glancing at me as he opens one of the side saddlebag compartments.

“Yeah. That was cool. I’ve never ridden on a bike before.”

“I was kind of hoping you’d say that,” he says, pulling a backpack from one compartment, and a second bag from the other. “I get the impression you like to try new things.”

“I do.”

He digs in the pack for headlamps, passes one to me and keeps one for himself. He lifts the backpack onto his shoulders and the other bag up on his arm. “C’mon. It’s this way.”

As we step from the forested area and into the meadow, the moon has risen enough to expose the land in a wash of blue and silver light.

We almost don’t need the flashlights, but we keep them on anyway.

It’s a beautiful place during the day. Leenie and Martin love to bring the kids here to play, and I’ve come a few times with them.

But at night the fields are ethereal and eerie.

“What about bears?” I whisper.

Dan puts his hand out to me. “There’ll be no bears. We’ll be fine.”