Biker Chick by Dakota Knight Page B

hair was a short mass of tightly-wound cute curls. She even had makeup on.
    â€œOh my God!” I yelled out, unable to contain my surprise. “Mrs. Phillips!”
    She smiled brightly and continued walking toward us. “Honey, it’s me. And you can call me Judy now. You’re not in school anymore.”
    I couldn’t move.
    â€œThat’s your teacher?” Ray asked.
    I nodded.
    â€œDamn, I need to go back to high school,” he said.
    My state of shock didn’t allow me to give him the punch he deserved. Instead, I kept standing there, handling a plate full of food and probably looking like a true fool with my mouth wide open.
    â€œWell, honey, what have you got to say?” Mrs. Phillips asked as she put her hands on her hips.
    â€œWhat you doing here?” I asked softly. It was the only thing I could think of to say.
    â€œNow what kind of question is that? Obviously I’m here to be a part of the Summer Blast.”
    I stared down at her chest. She wasn’t lacking in the titty department, but of course, that wasn’t what I was looking at. I read the words on her shirt. First, there were large blue airbrushed letters that read L ROCS. Underneath that were blue silvery words spelled in cursive—Lady Riders of Columbus South.
    I shook my head again. “Oh hecky no. Don’t tell me you’re in a . . .”
    Mrs. Phillips raised up her right hand. “Oh please, Crystal, you should have known that when I asked you to come.” She looked past me and frowned. “So, what’s your friend’s name?”
    I turned around. Ray, unable to wait another minute for introductions, had sat down at the table and his attention was focused on the food on his plate.
    I smiled and said. “That’s my man. Ray.”
    â€œHmmm. So, what do you think about the Blast?” she asked.
    I shrugged my shoulders. “We just got here. We were going to eat and . . .” I paused. I didn’t want to tell her we were going to do an Eat and Run. “We wanted to get some food before we looked around at everything.”
    Mrs. Phillips frowned again before leaning over and looking in Ray’s direction again. “Why don’t you put that plate down a minute so we can talk,” she said seriously.
    â€œTalk about what?” I asked, matching her tone.
    â€œCrystal, I need a minute, okay?” Now she sounded like the teacher I knew and, some of the time, loathed.
    She didn’t look like she was going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Wait a sec,” I told her before heading to the table where Ray was eating.
    â€œWhat . . . yo . . . ’bout . . . do?” Ray asked with a rib-filled mouth.
    â€œMrs. Phillips is trippin’ as usual,” I replied. “I’ll be right back.”
    â€œUmmm. Hmmm.” Ray nodded as he chewed.
    I rejoined Mrs. Phillips. “I’m going to kill Mom when I see her. Did she know you ride?” I asked, as we began walking through the crowd.
    â€œSure. I’ve been riding for a long time.”
    She quickened her pace and I followed. “Why didn’t you tell me you ROC’ed?” I asked.
    â€œWhy should I have?” was her reply. “Plus, I don’t think you’d have come if you knew I rode.”
    â€œThat’s not true,” I said. “It don’t matter to me if you ride or not. I’m just surprised.”
    â€œWhy is that? Because I’m a teacher?”
    I thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, I guess so,” I admitted.
    When we reached the edge of the park, near its large glass conservatory, the crowd began to thin out. “Where are we going?” I asked.
    Mrs. Phillips stopped in front of two wooden park benches. “I thought you were going to come alone,” she said.
    â€œI don’t know why you thought that.”
    â€œWell, I knew those two girls you were always with at school didn’t ride and