Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
I can’t complain about the sidecar ride. I chose not to have prosthetics fitted to me. I’m eligible, but it hasn’t felt right. Fake legs don’t change a damn thing about what I’ve lost. Sure, it gives me back some options, but not without making adaptations of putting on the prosthesis. I can’t explain it, but in my gut, I am not that man, not yet, and I don’t know if I ever will be.
Boomer offered to outfit a trike for me to ride again. Since that doesn’t require me to balance it, I did consider it. Even now it still pops into my mind from time to time tempting me to give it a go.
Here is the thing, riding is beautiful.
Yeah, I said that shit.
Riding is this experience for me. It’s a whole body, every sense engaged, experience. Shit is almost better than sex.
Almost.
There is no better way to experience the full beauty of the United States than cross-country on a motorcycle. The views, the towns, the people, all of it is something I take in each and every time.
I can’t do that the same ever again and I don’t want those memories tainted.
Today is already challenging enough. I can get through this ride. I will get through this ride.
I’ll climb in the sidecar on my own. I’ve practiced the drop in and lift out. It’s not easy, but I’m going to do it my way. Colton will have control in the bike, but the sidecar, I’ll feel the curves and take this ride almost like everyone else.
From today until the end of time, legs or no legs, I’m a Hellion. I’m not defined by my wheelchair, I’m still part of this brotherhood.
That is what is going to carry me through today.
The final patch. The rocker complete and having a place in the club I’ve always wanted even though I’ll never ride again.
With courage I’ll get through today.
And the rest of my days will be filled with acceptance of my circumstance. No matter what comes I can face it because today marks the day I’m a Hellion.
Ride until I die … in my own way.
ONE
EMMALEE
Life lessons with Emma: If only I knew in this moment what was to come … don’t we all wish we had the gift to see the future.
Another day in paradise. Diem dumped the douchebag boyfriend Walker last week and we finally get to go out tonight!
“The best way to get over a breakup is to get lost in the lips of another guy!” I explain as I apply one more layer of mascara. “There are studies to prove it.”
Diem laughs while we are side by side in her bathroom applying makeup. “First things first, trashy lashes. The best way to get over a breakup is to cloud my vision with the best mascara a girl can get at the drug store!”
This causes us both to laugh and reply in unison, “the thicker the lashes, the closer to God!”
Since middle school age when we both started wearing makeup, we have been obsessed and I mean obsessed with mascara. Tonight, is a full-face makeup night, but even days I don’t actually wear much makeup I will always put on at least one coat of lash booster. It gives me the confidence I want and need.
Diem and I have tried every type of serum, wand, and product we can get our hands on. Some have been wins and others have been absolute fails. It’s our thing, though, and we love trying them all. Tonight, we are getting dolled up with the mission to forget Walker and all the drama he brought with him.
There isn’t a time in my life that I can remember when Diem Reigns hasn’t been my very best friend. Maybe it’s because our entire lives have been so sheltered. From private schools together to her dad being my dad’s boss which means dinners and other functions together, everything we have done is always as a pair. We are both only children and our whole lives are entwined together in the best of ways.
Diem’s warm beige skin with her deep, dark hair are a beauty to envy without makeup. She has this natural curly hair with volume and body I can only dream of having. Tonight though, she is straightening it leaving this gloss shine that will absolutely glow under the club lights. All of this leaves me paling in comparison with my standard brown hair that falls just below my bra line on my back when straightened against my alabaster skin. Summer after summer, Diem and I spend as much time as we can at the beach. She tans beautifully while I scorch even with copious amounts of sunscreen.
She tells me I’m gorgeous with an understated beauty because I have a perfectly round face. Without much effort my eyebrows always match symmetrically along with any makeup I apply. I can give myself credit for the ‘art of putting on my face’, as my grandmother called it. The rest of it, well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess. I don’t see what Diem sees. I’m not saying I’m ugly, I consider myself average. She’s my best friend, of course, she says I am beautiful. She has to, right?