Vivid Lies by Alyne Robers

head anyway. I fight his hands as he does the buckle under my chin but he keeps smacking away my attempts.
    "Seriously, I don't want to."
    "No. You're scared but that has nothing to do with what you want to do. Live a little, London."
    I actually snarl at him but he ignores me. I'm sick of being told to "lighten up" or "live a little." I swear I'm always being told to be more like my sister. Maybe she should be more like me.  
    I don't want to always be the boring one.  
    Kane mounts the bike and watches me patiently. When I continue to stand frozen, he offers his hand. After a mental pep talk, I take his hand. He holds mine while I throw my leg over and sit on the seat.  
    "Hold on. Lean with me when I lean," Kane tells me.  
    He turns the key and a loud rumble echoes in the garage. It's loud and I feel it moving through my whole body. Kane puts up the kick stand and my heart rate skyrockets. I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze. After a light tap to my white knuckles, we are off.  
    There's something terrifying about being so exposed to the road and cars around you. Everything feels bigger and closer when you are not surrounded by four sides of metal. I feel so vulnerable, but I feel free with the wind and sun on my face. It's so scary, it's exciting.
    Soon, we are on roads I don't recognize. I squeeze Kane's leg to get his attention since I now realize that he never even asked where my car was. His large hand covers mine but he doesn’t slow or acknowledge that I have something to say. Even screaming, he wouldn't hear me with all the wind and my helmet. He lets go and I watch the scenery flash by, waiting for a chance to talk to him.
    Growing up in Tennessee, we didn't see much of the ocean or palm trees. I'm captivated by the blues of the water. It's calming and soothing, easing the shaking of my hands and the racing of my mind. When the bike goes over a long bridge, I cling tighter to Kane. I feel so small and light over the water without the metal walls to protect me.  
    Soon, we are riding down a wide road that looks long forgotten. We pull into in large and deserted parking lot and Kane kills the engine. I climb off the bike, still feeling the vibration in my body. Kane follows, helping me with my helmet. His fingers lightly brush my throat as he loosens the strap. My eyes dart to his, but he seems unaware.  
    "How was it? You lived I see, even with just two wheels."
    "It was fine," I say as I fix my hair and look around.  
    "Fine? You know how to bruise a guy's ego."
    "It's was terrifying, honestly."
    "But you loved it," Kane says, his voice dropping lower. His dark eyes are on me, demanding the truth with their direct intensity.
    "Yes. But this isn't where my car is. What is this place?"
    I look around at the massive concrete building. It's definitely abandoned, but not forgotten. There are weeds growing in the cracks of the concrete, but the walls are covered in graffiti.  
    "It used to be a marine stadium but shut down after a hurricane. Come on, I'll show you."
    Kane starts walking to the chained gates, and I hurry after him.  
    "Are we allowed in here?" I ask as he pulls the gate open enough for me to slip through.  
    "It's discouraged."
    Kane takes my camera bag and gestures for me to go through the gap. My heart is pounding as I look around for any witnesses. It's broad daylight and I'm breaking and entering. Or is it just entering? Kane follows after me and leads me up a ramp and up some cement steps. The walls are covered in graffiti along the way.  
    "Discouraged?"
    "It's discouraged, but as you can see, we aren't the first ones to get in here."
    We pass cement pillars, all entirely covered in colorful graffiti. Every surface of the place seems to be covered in art. We come out at the bottom of the stadium, looking up at hundreds of stadium seats facing the open water of the ocean. I gasp when I take in the size and the view.  
    "It's amazing," I breathe.  
    Every seat has been tagged.