The engine screamed awake, hungry and impatient. My fingers clenched tighter around the handlebars as the motorbike quivered beneath us, eager to throw itself forward. God, all these adjectives, as if I'm growing attached to this bad boy already, I might masturbate using the handle one of these days.

Hailie clung to my waist like a barnacle strapped for dear life onto a ship in a storm. I was going to ask if she wanna put on something else rather than that fancy white dress because there will most likely be dead bugs flown straight into her chest, but then again, maybe that was the least of our worries.

"Ready?" I asked over my shoulder, my voice muffled by the helmet.

"No!" she squeaked.

Which, of course, was good enough for me.

The next instant, the bike jolted into a roar, the tires kissing the asphalt so hard it felt like the world had been kicked into gear. The rich people's streets blurred as we launched forward out of the Sonder's estate, and a ridiculous laugh ripped itself from my throat, raw and wild.

"Wa… Uwahahahahahahahahahahh!"

I laughed because speed made me feel invincible, I laughed because the wind clawed its fingers through my hair even under the helmet, I laughed because, honestly, this was the closest thing to flying I would ever get. The thrill of the G-force fighting the indominatable human spirit was sensational.

Behind me, poor Hailie let out a shrill yelp that trailed into something between a gasp and a giggle. "Slow down! Oh my god, Cory… Um- I'm scared!"

Her hands clawed tighter into my ribs, and I could barely make out in my peripheral vision, her fumbling around her own legs as if to make sure they were still attached, still where she left them.

"Don't worry!" I shouted, voice scattering in the rushing air. "If we crash, you won't feel a thing!"

"That's not reassuring!" she screamed back.

The streets had peeled away into open city. It was evening, the kind of perfect evening that looked pre-painted just for a couple of dumb teenagers to sit by and enjoy. The sky stretched in gradients of rose and lilac, bleeding into a deeper navy toward the horizon where the first stars peeked out shyly.

We burst down a wide boulevard lined with towering trees, their leaves shaking as we tore through like a storm given flesh and wheels. The filtered sunlight flickered over our helmets, a golden strobe of dying day.

There weren't much vehicles this time of day, and any we saw, they weren't threatening enough that I couldn't just speed pass them.

The houses in this fancy part of the city, are… Good lord, the houses, they stood like dictatorial palaces behind their manicured lawns and wrought-iron fences. Mansions with cathedral windows, elegant stone arches, balconies adorned with potted roses spilling down. Each one felt like it had been plucked from a magazine spread about wealth I could never afford and never quite respect.

It was like Los Angeles, but without scammers, idiots, and whores, a vacant city, I meant.

We blew past a corner boutique where a string of glass lanterns had just been lit, glowing like captured fireflies, then past a bakery shuttering its door, with the scent of leftover bread ghosting across the street.

I catched a small glimpse of children chasing each other on the sidewalk until their parents yanked them away from the crazy women blasting through on a motorbike.

The road stretched clear, like it had been rolled out just for me, an unbroken ribbon of smooth asphalt pulling me forward. I leaned in harder, pushing the throttle, the world smearing itself into motion lines around us. Some kind of Akira or Tokyo Drift type shit, and I just started laughing, I laughed and yelled, woohoo, while Hailie must've closed her eyes because I felt her forehead against my back… No boobs, though, sadly, she must've curled.

I glanced in the rearview mirror, even through helmets, her beautiful and flowy white hair found ways to escape; little strands whipping free, tugging loose from buns and braids, flapping madly like they too wanted to scream in the wind.

"What?!" Hailie shouted suddenly.

"What?!" I screamed back.

"I said turn left!"

"Burn death?!"

"No! Left! Left!"

Naturally, I swerved right.

Her muffled shriek rattled my spine. "Cory!"

But by then we were both laughing, choking on our own screams, riding the high of reckless noise.

For a moment, just a sliver of a moment, it was beautiful. The sky above us, the blur of trees, the way sound itself seemed to smear into this single, endless howl of freedom. It felt like I'd stolen a piece of eternity and glued it to the back of this bike.

And then, because I couldn't resist tempting fate, I attempted a daredevil move, twisting us around into a 180.

The tires shrieked and the rear wheel spun loose before catching again, burning rubber against the pristine street. The bike swung into a perfect sideways drift, screeching in a vicious arc that painted itself across the polished asphalt.

Hailie's scream could've shattered stained glass. She clutched me so tightly I swore my ribs bent inward.

When the spin ended, we stood still, perfectly balanced, the engine growling under us like a satisfied beast, and I swear on god I smell fire, but checking the engine… There was nothing, gladly, I let out another cackle, shaking from the adrenaline.

Hailie slapped my shoulder with the weak fury of someone who wanted to throttle me but lacked the hand strength.

"Oh my geez… You're insane! You're completely insane!"

"Correction," I said, throwing the bike back into idle, "I'm amazing."

That's when the flashing blue-and-red lit up behind us.

"... Oh." Hailie whispered.

… Fuck.

The cop car rolled up with such insane speed that it was like they're out for a warrant on a multinational terrorist, or worse, a tax fraud.

The officer inside stepped out slowly, one hand resting casually on his belt like he had rehearsed this role for every dumb teenager who ever thought the streets were their racetrack.

"License and registration, please."

I bit my lips and stared at him, then back at Hailie.

I was wearing a dress, so obviously.

"Uh."

Hailie turned to me with wide, horrified eyes. "You didn't bring…"

"I did," I muttered. "I mean… I didn't. I mean, uh, I don't have it."

"Was it inside the wallet you told me about that got robbed?"

"...Definitely."

Hailie buried her helmeted face into her hands.

"And you?" the officer asked, now addressing Hailie.

She froze.

"Um… Officier, sir, I didn't bring anything either… I don't usually… I'm so sorry."

The silence that followed was the sound of dignity packing its suitcase and leaving the room forever.

The cop sighed, scribbled something down, and then muttered into his radio. I caught the words registered owner and run the plates something something.

Which was how, twenty minutes later, when we were sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, Eirlys Sonder herself appeared.

Her black, seemingly armored car pulled up with the elegance of a guillotine, headlights slicing through the dusk. The chauffer opened her door, and out stepped Eirlys, the elegant, poised woman glared at the two of us, her heels clicking against the pavement like punctuation marks in an angry letter.

She looked every inch the businesswoman dragged from an important meeting: blouse crisp, white snowy hair immaculate, irritation practically glowing off her skin.

"Explain," she said flatly, her gaze cutting between me and her sister like a scalpel.

I opened my mouth, closed it, tried again.

"It was a very controlled drift… Just, maybe, possibly, could be, probably illegal to go that fast and pull that stunt"

"I'm… I'm sorry… I should…"

Eirlys inhaled sharply through her nose like someone resisting the urge to commit fratricide in public. The officer, bless his doomed patience, handed her the ticket.

"Court date is under your name, Miss Sonder," he said.

Her lips pressed into the thinnest line I'd ever seen. She tucked the paper neatly into her handbag, as if it were a receipt for a sin she would address later.

"Get on," she ordered. "Both of you, now."

Hailie was helped up into the car first under the eyes of the law, and I followed, my legs trembling not from fear of police, but from the sheer realization that I might not survive the car ride home.

The motorbike was called to be towed, so that wouldn't be of my concern. But for now, the three of us were in the car… Me and Hailie sat in the backseat, and Eirlys next to her chauffer, still sliding through her ipad.

If you were to tell me that she was buying knives for my seppuku ceremony, I'd believe her, because, let us be honest, that won't be the worst thing the rich ever done… Cough cough Amy Bradley cough cough.

And honestly? Drifting at 120 km/h was child's play compared to the wrath of an older sister.

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