Rumors began that the bikers were becoming younger and younger in age. Which was yet another reason why my family refused my ongoing and persistent request of attending a co-ed private school like my brothers and cousins had.
Finally, luck was on my side when a scandal broke out in my all-girls academy. At seventeen, Macy May got pregnant, and it was the talk of the town. My parents yanked me out of school so fast it made my head spin.
I was allowed to be enrolled into a co-ed private academy like I’d always wanted. However, it wasn’t just any co-ed private school. It was the best because I was a Montgomery and nothing else was acceptable. It was the same school my brothers and cousins had attended. Everything about the academy was decadence. The best staff, the toughest curriculum, gourmet food, and they even had the best sports teams in every division.
My family was basically their biggest donor other than the Hawkins.
If there was something else my family was known for, it was the generational rivalry with the Hawkins family that started decades before I was born. They despised each other, and it seemed to only be getting worse as the years went on. At this point, I was surprised the academy wasn’t named after one of our families.
They were wealthy.
Envied.
Powerful to say the least.
Regardless of what my family believed, though, I wasn’t naïve. I could take care of myself, but that wasn’t going to stop them from trying to protect me at all costs.
Full Throttle: You still there?
I shook away the thoughts and replied.
Rebel Rider: How do you know I’m nervous?
While I waited for his response, I finished brushing the soft curls of my long, wavy blonde hair. People were always telling me that I reminded them of a porcelain doll with my big, bright blue eyes and naturally long black lashes that only accentuated my high cheekbones and pouty mouth. I was curvy yet petite, owning more dresses than I knew what to do with.
Full Throttle: I might have learned a thing or two about you in the last year.
I smiled.
Rebel Rider: Just a thing or two?
Full Throttle: Wouldn’t you like to know…
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. This was what I enjoyed about our banter the most. Boys steered clear of me. If my brothers weren’t intimidating enough, then my last name made up for it. I was sixteen and had no experience with talking to boys, let alone flirting with one.
With him, it was easy. Our conversations were effortless as if we’d known one another our entire lives. However, Full Throttle didn’t know who I was, and I loved that fact more than anything. The feelings he evoked always triggered somersaults in my belly that I’d never felt before.
I liked him.
A lot.
We didn’t know much about each other, but the things we did know made me want to learn more about him. Since he lived on the other side of the world, it was easy to confide in him about how sheltered I was and how much I hated it. We might have bonded over our passion for bikes, but now it was much more than that. I genuinely wanted to know everything about him, and the feeling seemed mutual.
What I did know about Full Throttle was that he was my age and he actually owned a street bike. A black matte Ducati 900cc Supersport Twin. My favorite. After a month of chatting in the open forum with the other biker fans, one night we were discussing our favorite motorcycles, and I shared what mine was.
Seconds later, I got a private message from Full Throttle. Even when we were chatting with everyone else in the forum, I still felt something different toward him, a pull I couldn’t explain, so you could understand my excitement when I saw his request to private message me. From the moment I clicked accept and he showed me a picture of his bike, I became even more infatuated with him.
We’d been privately chatting on the site ever since. I wanted to give him my cell phone number so I could hear his voice, but I was too scared it’d somehow get back to my family and I’d be grounded for life. Instead of risking that chance and losing him all together, we only chatted on the forum a few days a week. Sometimes during the day, other times late at night.
Full Throttle: What are you wearing?
I giggled at his question.
Rebel Rider: Wouldn’t you like to know…
Full Throttle: More than you could imagine.
I blushed, smirking.