He looked toward the other members.
“The people who kept coming back did.”
Cassie wrote that sentence carefully.
Hank watched.
“Don’t make us sound noble.”
“I won’t.”
“We were idiots.”
“I’ll include that.”
“Good.”
“We drank too much. Fought too much. Made bad choices.”
He tapped the notebook.
“But we learned one useful thing.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to understand another man’s ghosts to sit beside him while they’re loud.”
Cassie stared at the line after writing it.
Derek dropped into the seat beside her.
His shoulder nearly touched hers.
“You getting enough tragedy for your assignment?”
Cassie closed the notebook halfway.
“Hank volunteered.”
“Everybody volunteers when they forget this ends up in a classroom.”
“It won’t include anything you don’t approve for attribution.”
Derek laughed.
“You sound like a reporter.”
“I’m trying to act like one.”
“Reporters say that too.”
Maria, seated nearby, looked over.
“Derek.”
He ignored her.
“You know how people write about motorcycle clubs?”
Cassie waited.
“One of two ways.”
He counted on his fingers.
“Dangerous criminals.”
“Or adorable misunderstood teddy bears with Harleys.”
“I don’t want either.”
“Everybody says that.”
“I’m not everybody.”
“That’s exactly what everybody says.”
Cassie’s irritation rose.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you talking to me?”
Derek leaned closer.
“Because you get to leave.”
Cassie stopped.
Derek’s voice lowered.
“You finish your project.”
“Graduate.”
“Go to college.”
“Maybe show some slides.”
“Everybody claps because you discovered complicated men have feelings.”
Maria said sharply, “Enough.”
Cassie raised a hand.
“No.”
She looked at Derek.
“He’s right about one thing.”
Derek seemed surprised.
“I can leave.”
Cassie opened the notebook again.
“That’s exactly why I have a responsibility not to make you into whatever story is easiest.”
Derek studied her.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Cassie glanced toward Graham.
“Because if I get this wrong, I’m not just failing school.”
Her voice became quieter.
“I’m getting my father wrong.”
Derek followed her gaze.
For the first time, his expression lost some hostility.
He said nothing else.
That night, the club returned to Rusty’s.
Cassie sat on the old couch reviewing notes while members played pool.
Her legs still hurt.
Her back hurt.
Her ears felt strange from hours of engine noise despite hearing protection.
She had never been so physically tired from doing something that involved sitting down.
Her phone vibrated.
Mom: Alive?
Cassie smiled.
Barely.
Mom: Your father said first ride “went fine,” which in Graham language could mean anything from pleasant afternoon to minor battlefield conditions.
Cassie typed:
No battlefield. Everything hurts.
Mom: Good. Character building.
Cassie: Betrayal.
She pocketed the phone.
That was when she saw Graham step outside.
His phone was pressed to his ear.
At first Cassie paid no attention.
Then his posture changed.
His shoulders tightened.
He turned away from the window.
Hank saw it too.
When Graham came back inside, Hank intercepted him.
“That who I think?”
Graham nodded.
Hank’s face shifted.
“Tommy?”
The name traveled.
Not loudly.
But noticeably.
Maria stopped arranging pool balls.
Derek emerged from the hallway.
“Tommy called?”
Graham nodded.
Derek’s expression hardened immediately.
“Why?”
“He heard about Cassie’s project.”