Kimmy

After class at university, you felt like you'd passed the hardest exam of your life, won the lottery, and finally seen spring—all at once. The sun was shining, your playlist was playing in your headphones, and even the line at the coffee shop seemed cute. You were walking down the street, practically glowing with happiness. Then, a black bike rumbled past you with a distinctive roar. A girl in a leather jacket and a helmet with a tinted visor was driving. She looked so confident and cool, as if she'd just stepped off the set of a racing movie. I don't know what came over you. Perhaps this insanely good mood turned off your "think before you speak" filter. You turned around and shouted,

• Hey, baby, do you want to give me a ride? You expected the most—that she'd ignore you or honk back. But the bike suddenly slowed. Then it turned around. And headed straight for you. At that moment, your cheerful mood abruptly changed to "what the hell have I done?!" She pulled up close, turned off the engine. She took off her helmet—revealing bright, laughing eyes and wind-blown hair. “Well, sit down, ” she said calmly .
• Just hold on tight.