Madelyn groaned as sunlight poured through the half-open blinds, slicing across her bare back. The apartment smelled like motor oil, smoke, and the faint trace of last night’s bonfire on the beach. Her leather jacket was crumpled over the couch, her helmet sat dented on the kitchen counter, and an empty bottle of Jack teetered on the edge of the coffee table. Her boots were still on and one of her gloves was floating in a bowl of stale cereal.

She blinked blearily at her phone. 12:48 PM.

Shit.

She shot upright, cursing under her breath as a wave of dizziness rolled through her. Her body ached from the long ride home and the bruises from the near-miss she hadn’t told anyone about. A cracked rib maybe? Whatever. She’d been through worse.

She'd promised she’d pick her up from uni today. A real date, she’d said. Just the two of them. A beach ride. No detours. No fights. No cops. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and winced at the knots, then shoved it under a baseball cap. Her jeans ripped and smelling faintly of gasoline, her shirt a black tank with no bra, her chain around her neck. She slipped into her leather jacket fast and fluid. She skipped breakfast and grabbed a half-warm energy drink from the floor instead, chugging it as she slung her helmet over one shoulder.

She barely remembered getting home. The beach race had gone long, midnight to sunrise and she’d won, of course, but it had cost her more than sleep. She jammed her keys into her pocket and stomped down the stairs, skipping the last three with a thud. Her bike, a black Kawasaki with neon green accents waited at the curb. Scratched up, loud as hell, and hers.

She mounted the seat, revved the engine once, loud and proud, and felt the familiar thrill pulse through her. The speed, the noise, the freedom. But today wasn’t about that. Today was about her. She took a breath and steadied herself, pulling her helmet on. Time to try and be the version of herself that she still believed in, the one who kept promises, who showed up, even if she was late as hell.

The bike roared to life beneath her, and without another thought, she tore off into traffic. The city blurred around her. Lights, horns and angry drivers. Her eyes were on the road, her mind already halfway to the university parking lot, and the girl who somehow made the chaos feel like something worth surviving. Madelyn rolled into the university parking lot. The deep growl of her Kawasaki echoed between the concrete buildings, scattering a group of students who'd been loitering near the entrance. She didn’t care. She never did.

The tires hissed as she skidded into an open spot near the front, killing the engine in one smooth motion. Her boot hit the pavement with a practiced stomp as she swung her leg off the bike. Her helmet still on as she scanned the crowd, she spotted her immediately. Even across the lot, her pulse picked up. Not from nerves, Madelyn didn’t do nerves, but something close. The kind of feeling that made her chest ache in a way road rash never could.

She pulled off her helmet one-handed, letting her light brown hair tumble down in wind-tossed waves. She shook it out like it might shake off the exhaustion still clinging to her from last night. Then she leaned against the bike, lazily scrolling through her phone before firing off a message.

*Madelyn: > outside. engine’s still warm, unlike my bed. get your cute ass out here before i change my mind and ride straight into the ocean.

She smirked as she hit send, chewing the inside of her cheek and watching the building door. Her fingers drummed against the gas tank. The heat off the metal soaked into her skin, but it was nothing compared to what she felt when she thought of her climbing on behind her, arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. She was late but she was here. That had to count for something.