Chapter 20: Twenty Miles

Carrie's POV

The Foothills Charity Ride started at eight, in a church parking lot that smelled of coffee and sunscreen.

Forty riders milled around Hank's van in helmets and bright jerseys.

I wore a borrowed helmet and the one pair of padded shorts that fit.

My bike was new to me, a used hybrid Hank had rebuilt from the wrecked one's frame.

It had a bell on it.

I had not asked for the bell.

"It's for you," Hank said. "So everybody hears you coming."

"I'm not that fast."

"That's why it's a bell."

The retired schoolteacher rode up beside me and tapped my handlebar.

"Slow lane, dear," she said. "Me and you and the shirt."

The shirt was the man in the Hawaiian shirt. He gave me a thumbs-up from under a helmet with a flower sticker on it.

The fifteen-year-old pulled his headphones around his neck.

"I'll ride back with you," he said. "If you want."

"I'd like that."

"Cool. Don't tell my mom I volunteered."

Faye stood at the starting line with a cowbell and a thermos.

"You've got your inhaler," she said.

"I don't have asthma."

"You've got your ibuprofen, then. And your phone, and your sister, who loves you and is going to be at the mile-ten stop in my car."

"Faye."

"Go. Be annoying and slow."

Hank blew a whistle.

I pushed off.

The first mile was flat, and my knee felt fine. The second mile, the knee reminded me that it had opinions.

By mile five I was sweating through my shirt and passing no one. Twelve riders had already disappeared ahead.

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