Lyric’s P.O.V

“I’m not getting on your bike.” Lydia did that brow crinkling thing she did when she was frustrated.

I smirked. “Why? Are you afraid that the girls in school will die of jealousy because you came to school riding on my bike?”

“No. I’m afraid I’ll die of a heart attack or a cracked skull thanks to your driving skills.” She crossed her arms across her chest stubbornly. “I’ll run my bicycle, thank you very much.”

 I sighed in ...