I like to think that I have a handle on things, a specific way of what my day should be from morning to evening on each school day and weekend. This makes it particularly vexing when something completely unplanned and unthinkable happens. In today’s case, it also makes me extremely nervous because the school’s local delinquent Rosa Song just asked me out on a date.
“So? Are you free today or not?” she asked. She stood in front of the bike rack where I tried to unlock my bike, calmly staring me down into giving a response. From an outsider’s point of view, you would think she was actually shaking me down for cash. That was what I thought she meant to do at first. Rosa Song was the poster girl for disobedience in my class. She always arrived late, picked fights with the teacher, and mostly bailed on school halfway through the day to go joyriding on her infamous dark purple motorcycle, which the principal sternly forbade her from ever using. For the teachers, the only thing worse than her motorcycle are the dyed violet streaks in her scruffy black hair that she insists on keeping.
I haven’t even mentioned her frighteningly intimidating appearance. A studded leather jacket, spiked on the shoulders, and big black combat boots would make any normal person tremble, even if she still remained a head shorter than everyone else and two heads shorter than me. For someone like Song to even ask someone out on a date is considered as inconceivable, and for her to ask out someone like me: impossible.
I had no idea what to say.
“Look,” she said, “I’m kinda on a schedule here so I need to know. You want to go out?”
Oh god now she’s squinting at me. I need to choose my words carefully lest she begins to get mad.
“Um,” I stammered “Today, I am not busy. No plans… just homework.”
Her eyes lit up and a grin spread across her punk visage. She quickly stepped forward and I got a better look at her. She had a round face but sharp features, accentuated by her makeup. Her brown eyes hung under a shade of lavender eyeshadow and her purple lipstick made her smile seem fairylike. Not only does she dress like a punk, she made herself look pretty for it. She may have a reputation of ill-repute, but she definitely keeps up appearances.
“So you are free? Let’s go then!” Song grabbed my hand and led me away from my bike, away from the school. “I parked my ride a block away so those cranks wouldn’t confiscate it again. It can fit both of us and you won’t need a helmet. You should take off your glasses for it though…”
“And where are we going for this date?” I meekly asked.
“That’s a surprise, man,” Song giggled, “Besides, no one shares the plan on the first date?”
First?
It was then that I realized this was the first time we’ve ever met. People like us aren’t supposed to walk together. This has to be a trap.
“Wait, wait,” I pulled my hand out of hers and reasserted myself, “Why are you doing this? We’ve never talked to each other before. Do you even know who I am?”
Unfazed, she squinted at me again. “Of course I do. Rick Mercado. Good student. Tall nerd. Nice glasses. We’re in the same class and I am the one who asked you out. Why wouldn’t I know you?”
Alright, that was a fair point, but that did not mean I would just follow her pace. To answer her question, I would have said I am an incredibly paranoid person toward delinquents that want my company, but before I could, she grabbed my hand and started walking us again.
“And I’m doing this because I want to.” She looked back at me, still smiling. “Thanks for saying yes, by the way.”
Her pace reigned supreme. With a heavy sigh, I started calculating math problems in my head to at least have a head start on homework if this took too long. Thank goodness Song had the luck to ask me out after school when none of my peers or teachers would be around to see us. I shuddered at the rumors and disapproval that would have spread as a result.
We continued in silence until we reached a gas station parking lot, where Rosa Song’s motorbike stood alone. It seemed a lot more subdued in color than its reputation suggests. The sunny afternoon did not bring out any vibrance or shine, making it look more like a shadow than a regular vehicle. However, given how this is a delinquent’s ride, I naturally compelled myself to say something complimentary. What would be the right words though?
“It looks very… nice!”
My captor started to bounce up and down in what I assumed to be excitement. Taking a keychain out of her jacket pocket, she finally released her steel grip and bolted towards her ride, starting it up. The ignition sputtered and then the engine purred, which the rider responded with a whoop of joy as she turned back to me and proudly presented her work.
“Just wait until you see it in action! Been tuning up my baby for days and now she’s in top shape for us.” Song slowly inched the bike toward me and, with a flourish, revealed extra room on the bike’s seat, recently and meticulously polished. “Hop on!”
“I’m going on it? With you?”
“You ask a lot of obvious questions for a guy on a date,” she giggled. “We ain’t got time for questions we need time to ride!” Her bike roared in glee, but, despite the excitement, I still had the hesitation and poor sense to ask another question. I was also incredibly nervous as well.
“So our date will be us riding together?” I asked, loosening my collar. “Like, around the block?”
A new grin spread across Rosa Song’s smug face, more suspicious than facetious.
“Buddy, I got a whole bigger thing planned for us.” Song patted the empty passenger space on the seat with a lot more force. “Don’t leave this spot cold.”
One awkward shuffle later, I was closer to this girl than I ever wanted to be. At her recommendation, I placed my hands around her waist for safety. So as to make neither of us uncomfortable, I maintained a loose hold, but from her attitude, I sensed she wanted me to hold on tighter.
“Wait, shouldn’t we be wearing helmets? For more safety?”
Song scoffed.
“Not for this! Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?”
“Never!”
More chuckling.
“Man alive, I can’t believe your first ride is with me, dude. You’re going to love it.” She turned the handles and roared, “Hold on!”
And I did, for dear life. Song might have said I didn’t need a helmet, but in this moment, I really, really wanted one. Against my previous hesitation, I pulled myself closer to Rosa Song, holding onto her waist and burying my face into the nape of her neck, praying that my glasses would stay on through sheer force of will. I even closed my eyes shut to avoid the sick rush of speed this cursed bike was intent on keeping. The rumble of the engine, the coarseness of the road, the recklessness of all the driver’s turns, the fear of death and injury. It was all unbearable. It made me believe in a god and hope for heaven. Through it all though, I could feel the world around me more intimately than I ever did before. The enthusiasm that Rosa expressed before somehow found its way into me. Everything began to feel comfortable. I was on a motorcycle!
To open my eyes and look outside wouldn’t hurt. I’d need to let go of my fear and be careful with my glasses, but I started to feel confident enough. Slowly, I lifted my eyelids and could see my hometown quickly passing by, like the two of us were in a different world. Rosa Song’s hair simmered in the sunlight. Her violet streaks danced in the breeze. From behind, I could see a hint of how big her smile was. I could see how happy she was, and slowly realize how warm that made my heart feel.
However, the spikes on her jacket shoulders made it harder to really appreciate the moment. They glared more than they shimmered. Looking at them closer, they were definitely sharp enough to gouge my eye out. What if we crashed? What if she braked too hard and generated enough whiplash to put me in the hospital for the week? Once again, the wariness I felt toward this whole affair kept me in check. I retreated back into my shell, waiting for this to end.
About a half-hour later, the bike skidded to a stop and I could not slip out of my spot fast enough. Dangerous rides really do reveal how often one can take solid ground for granted and how good it feels to still be in one piece. My glasses still stuck to the bridge of my nose and no scuffing or damage occurred on my school uniform. My school tie had become loose but some habitual adjustments lined it up right back. With my own person still unscathed, I then took the time to recognize my surroundings. Apparently our destination was a wooded clearing on the outskirts of town and an abandoned wooden warehouse, a perfect place for the likes for Rosa Song but not for me.
And as I was about to speak up, the girl tackled me from behind and squeezed me. I knew it! She was finally going to attack me! Wait. Why is she laughing?
“What an awesome passenger! You were holding onto me like this entire time,” she pulled herself closer and nuzzled her head harder into my back. At least the shoulder spikes weren’t a danger anymore as her jacket now hung on the bike handles. “I must have given you a great ride. How was I? On a scale from one to ten?”
“8 out of 10,” I dryly replied. The true answer would be below average, but for her, above average just for her to let go of me. A little push sent the message a bit more clearly. “Thanks for the ride, I appreciate your… passion.”
“Alright, so room for improvement!” Song backed up and gleefully nodded. “You’re so sweet. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” There she goes with “the next time” again. Does she enjoy being with me that much? She leaned back on the bike and sighed. Without her jacket, Song appeared so much smaller. Her white tank top made her figure standout from the shaded area where she parked the bike. Her firm arms were adorned with various bracelets; some metal, some beady, and others string. The jeans she wore were faded and torn around the thighs, but it added to her rugged character. If I did not know Song at all I would have recognized her as a regular student, and, in this moment, almost attractive, but I was certain it wouldn’t last.
“So now that we’re far away from that school, let’s get to know each other!” she yelled. I woke up to alarms more shrill than her. “I’ll go first. You know I’m Rosa Song, but did you also know that this place here is my headquarters?” She motioned toward the warehouse. “No one knows about it or has come close to finding it, so congratulations! You’re with me so you should know it too. Now, your turn.”
“Um… Rick Mercado. Hello. I… don’t have much experience with bikes or dates. Thank you for the experience.”
Song giggled and from I thought I could see her blush. “Man alive am I taking a lot of firsts from you. You are very welcome and cuter than I thought you’d be.”
Now I’m blushing. “And you’re more… purple than I realized. Why is that?”
“It’s my favorite color, ever since I was little. It’s also the color of my bike, so I thought I might as well coordinate. Do you like purple?”
“I… yes I do. It looks nice on you.”
“Aww, thanks,” Song then pointed at my outfit. “Why are you so beige?”
“It’s the school uniform,” I politely replied. “You never wear it.”
“I know,” she cackled, “I’d rather dress in leather and denim than that, even when I don’t have to.”
“But you get in trouble.”
“I know! It’s great. My favorite part is when those square teachers start yelling at me. Their heads end up like beets and it is hilarious.” A snicker brought across the joy she felt as authority pointlessly scolded her.
I leaned against a tree next to the bike while we talked, thinking. She really is a delinquent punk. I’d wither up at the thought of being yelled at. How can she handle that? Why am I still here?
“Are you enjoying yourself so far?” Song asked. “I think this is a nice date. Best ever.”
Great. Now I need to talk my way out of this. Let’s focus on flattering her. Wait, flattery won’t work. It would only encourage her. Maybe the focus should be on her appearance and how weird her purple is. The bike would actually make a much better subject, but I don't know a thing about bikes so there’s nothing to talk about. Multiple options for conversation and their follow-ups raced through my mind, and none of them seemed appropriate or honest. She’s just a girl who wants to talk, so I should talk to her, but it felt so difficult with treacherous obstacles, until my racing mind arrived at the conclusion that I am getting in the way of myself, not her.
I decided to just talk and not stop until it felt right to.
“This is definitely an amusing departure from what I usually do,” I started. “Frankly the most surprising thing about it is that it was that you asked me. We never really met. We just only heard of each other, but I feel… comfortable.” The more I went on I realized that my words were less manipulative and more honest. This was really how I felt, what I want to say, and Song seemed attentive, almost appreciative. “The whole motorcycle thing scared me at first, but I saw how happy it made you. You’re not what I thought you would be when we were at school. You’re really nice and confident and unlike anyone else, you seem to be listening to me or at least understand how I usually am. With all of this, it is nice to be along for the ride for now. Honestly, I am really… glad to be here.” And I meant it too. As much hesitation as I had before, it was only right to say so, to think past myself. “Thanks Rosa. This is a nice date.”
Her face flush red and she darted her gaze away. I hoped that meant a good response, that I chose the right words. “You are very welcome Ricky,” she said with a smile. “I’m happy you’re here too. It’s been awhile since I’ve taken anyone here.”
I found myself smiling along with her. Talking with Rosa Song is definitely more preferable than riding with her. Hopefully this is all the date will be, just the two of us. Walking closer to Song, I placed myself next to where she stood, more comfortable than ever to continue at her pace.
“I do have one more question,” I humbly asked. “When will the next ride be?”
In a fluid motion, she joined her elbow with mine and looked up at me with a mischievous dark purple smile.
“Right after you meet my gang! Come on!” she happily exclaimed, leading the two of us inside the warehouse while intimately, and uncomfortably, joined at the hip.
Wait, what gang?
If meeting Rosa for the first time was a gradual challenge, meeting all of her friends at once made it a gauntlet and a half. One step with the two of us through the door and I could feel the attitude worming its way into my skin, not helped by the angry glares that turned to me when Rosa announced ourselves.
“Hey girls! We are ready to roll out!” she proclaimed with spunk and gusto her gang members failed to share. If anything all of her friends were brooding before she got here and ready to kill when I did. There was no electric light in the warehouse, but with the available sunlight, I could make out five other girls, all high school age like Rosa and I, lounging in different parts of the area. “This here is my date Rick. He’ll be joining us today and he’ll be my passenger, so don’t get any ideas.”
I did not think anyone in the room, including me, understood the sarcasm. With all of them facing me down, I stepped closer to my date.
Rosa clapped her hands. “Alright! First let’s begin with introductions. I just want him to know all of you.” The other girls stepped forward, and funnily enough, all of their hairdos were different colors: Yellow, red, blue, pink, and white. It was easy to see how Rosa would fit in with them. Probably met at the same salon or hair dye aisle. She proceeded to blow off the formalities and let me know who was who.
The tallest of the group was the first I met. Patch was her name but I doubt it was her real one, short for Patricia most likely. She seemed the sporty sort, probably a baseball fan with that blue cap and worn out jersey. Her hair was done up in long blonde ponytail and she decorated with dyed dark blue stripes running along her head. She appeared bored, but it was clear she was merely taking in everything Rosa was saying. She chewed and blew chewing gum bubbles until she offered me a casual handshake.
“You’re tall,” she noted.
“Why thank you,” I humbly replied, accepting the offer. “What school are you from?”
“Hawkins,” said Patch. That’s the public school on the other side of town. They love sports over there.
“That’s a bit far. Do you play for the team?”
“No.”
“Oh. Do you play baseball?”
“Nope.”
“Alright…”
Next was Bailey, a short redhead with freckles, a stout nose, attitude, and the rest of the ginger cliches. She didn’t seem interested in talking to me as she just scowled at me like the intruder I have technically become. Rosa said she was the gang’s mechanic and that her father owned a motor workshop in the town, which only made me wonder why we weren’t over there. I bet the shop at least had air conditioning.
“Don’t think you can sweet talk me into any favors when you have engine troubles,” she rudely warned. “They are for the gang only!”
“That is not a problem. I don’t own a bike or a car.” I wanted to maintain a polite attitude since these are Rosa’s friends.
“Ha! Can’t believe Rosa is with a loser like you,” she laughed, which hurt a lot. Rosa quickly scolded her, which she seemed especially sensitive to. With how she acted, calling everyone to attention and giving orders, Rosa must be the gang’s leader or at least the closest thing to one.
Rosa then introduced the most socially unconventional member. All the girls called her Dizzi Izzi and only Dizzi Izzi. She wore a yellow crop top and the nicest jeans out of the group. Her hair was big and poofy, and her hair buns only added to that appearance. She looked down on me with an uncomfortable curiosity, but I made sure to keep things pleasant, throwing out silly phrases and tidbits to lighten the mood. It is not often I had conversational experiences like this and I wanted to show Rosa how taken I am by her friends and life.
“Wonderful to meet you, but what if I do not want to call you Dizzi Izzi every time?” I playfully asked.
“Then we are going to have a real big problem,” she threatened. Dizzi Izzi then casually pulled out a knife afterwards, making her my least favorite member.
Rosa and I continued on to the pink girl, whose name turned out to be Miriam Plume, a real name. Unlike the others, her hair was a complete dye job, all pink and short and done in braided pigtails. Her attention seemed directed more toward wearing down a fresh strawberry lollipop and twirling her pigtails than toward either of us. All the while I could not help but admire Rosa for trying to alleviate the mood for all of her gang, but her efforts also built up a great sense of guilt because she was trying so hard for me. I needed to make more of an effort, even if it did end badly.
“A real pleasure to meet you.” I offered another handshake. She scoffed.
“Congratulations Rosa, you got a nerd,” Miriam quipped. “That is totally what our gang needs.”
“A tall nerd, Plumey,” Rosa shot back. “Don’t be rude like the others.”
“Oh they were being nice Rosa. I’m the one he’ll need to worry about. I also think I hate him.”
“And you’re the one he’ll be ignoring,” she grabbed my arm again. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t want to ignore anyone though,” I stuttered.
“You are too sweet Ricky, but trust me when I say you need to stick with me. I love them but I really don’t want you to hate being with them. We just gotta go through one more, then we’re free.”
And finally, there was Ariel Summers, who happened to have the same kind of rim glasses that I did. According to Rosa, she preferred to be nicknamed “Zebra” because of her long and flowing black-and-white hair. Out of everyone, she was the friendliest and the friend closest toward Rosa. The two of them happily whispered between themselves while I waited to talk some more. Eventually, Zebra came up to me first.
“You must be the honor student. Must be busy,” she correctly stated. “I’ll be honest, I hope it was not too much trouble getting here ‘cause Rose is the one that’s going to take you back.” Rosa stood back with her arms crossed. She seemed nervous.
“The ride here was a bit of trouble,” I said, “but I got used to it. She’s a great rider.”
“Nice to hear. Just know that if Rosa and the girls give you a hard time or any more troubles,” she placed her hand on my shoulder, bringing me closer, “I’ll be the one you can talk too.”
“And that is the gang,” Rosa said as she pulled me back to her side. “Nice of all of you to be here together. Any other questions?”
“Am I supposed to go on dates with them too?” I incredulously asked.
The group erupted into laughter, and a hysterical Rosa held onto me in order to not fall on the floor. Call me a rudderless canoe because I was now going with the flow, with a nice girl and her not-so-nice friends. We left as the rest of the gang kept dying of laughter.
Back at Rosa’s bike, I waited while the flustered rider started putting her leather jacket back on, still pink from my cheeky joke. Clearly, the other girls do not have the best impression of me, but I think humor with such self-expressive delinquents like them would be the best way to fit in.
“So yeah, those are my friends,” she stammered. “We call ourselves the Color Riders and hang out a lot, so you’ll be seeing them a lot. Hope that there is no trouble with that.”
“Oh, it definitely is a lot of trouble,” I said, “Kind of painful, but I enjoy it. Not the pain though, just the trouble.”
She awkwardly held her head down. “Out of everything today, introducing you to them was the scariest thing for me.”
“Oh it was for me too, but over the day, I’ve learned the scary and rebellious people turn out to be quite lovely, and that I would like to spend more time with the scariest and most rebellious of all in the days ahead.”
She blushed again. “Back at the school though, right?”
“It would be preferable, but I know how much you hate it. We can meet after school at the gas station. Ride wherever you want to go.”
“Um… please don’t take it the wrong way.” Rosa sighed. “I can get used to it… if you’re there with me.”
All of a sudden, I stopped caring what rumors would arise from an honors student with a delinquent. I wanted to be better than that. Then, the rest of the gang soon came out to get their own bikes, each one their respective color and all of them raising a ruckus.
Rosa mounted her bike, offering me a spot on the seat behind her. “So, are you ready to head out?” she asked.
“We’re still on a date aren’t we?” I said yes afterwards and took her hand. “Let’s ride.”
The ride afterwards turned out to be very pleasant as there was a wonderful purple sunset on the horizon. It reminded me of the girl I carefully, and lovingly, started holding on to.
