What if second chances come a second time?
Long ago, Hannah and Jonah called it quits. Long ago, Hannah stopped trying to make things work, and Jonah let her go. Long ago, Jonah mailed back all of Hannah's stuff from his apartment, and Hannah blocke...
"Remember the first time you saw my bike?" Freddie asks as we walk down from the parking lot toward the entrance of our campus building. "You wouldn't even touch it. You called it death machine."
"It still is. Now I'm just more immune to the fear of death. A little."
"It's just a goddamn motorbike."
"You can fly off it and smash yourself on the road with a splat."
He shrugs. "Yet you still get on it every morning."
"Okay. I mean, after a year I kinda got over the little freak-outs I have at the thought of being on that death machine. I can admit now that I find it fun. A little."
I only began accepting rides to campus from him a little less than month ago, when the school year just started. I almost vomited the first time he revved the engine while I was on the bike, but I guess everybody was right when they talked about enjoying the "thrill" of flying through the air at forty-five miles per hour.
He gives me a once winning smile that no longer works on me. "No, you only think it's fun because it gives you the chance to press your body all over my back. Just admit that you still have an unresolved, deeply repressed sexual tension for me, Hannah."
I give him a deadpan look. "Never, in our short-lived romance history, have I ever enjoyed a motorbike ride. So if I like it now, it definitely has nothing to do with any unresolved, deeply repressed sexual tension." My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out to check the new message, and I begin to grin wide at it. "At least not for you."
He throws his hands up in the air. "I give up."
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Jonah: Ok. Just checked my e-mail and got the wedding invite. I RSVP'd. I'm coming, obviously☺️ Oh, and please tell Tony I said hi ... But only if he no longer wants to kick my ass.
I laugh a little. During our lunch a couple days ago, Jonah and I didn't really talk about The Break-Up. We weren't really ready for that, and we only had so much time to catch up before I had to get to class. I didn't want to waste it by rehashing one of the worst nights of my life, and he didn't either. He's only home for the week, having just returned to the states after finishing a foreign exchange program over the summer. So, for now, we're kind of shelving the discussion for a later time.
We've been texting each other since that day. It's nothing intense—just checking in on each other once in a while. Sometimes he takes hours before replying. Sometimes it's me, putting my phone away after seeing it light up with a text notification. I don't want to seem too eager, don't want to go into this too fast.
I'm about to reply to Jonah's text when I feel Freddie's hands on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. I look up and see that I almost crashed into vending machine, and I give Freddie a sheepish smile. He rolls his eyes at me.
