Jordan had been a fan. A big one, in fact. She had all their albums and singles. She was a freak. So what? She did not care. Okay, maybe she did want to preserve her ‘tougher-than-thou’ looks. Boybands just wouldn’t do the trick. Her friends understood. Head-shaking, you-are-retarded understood. Her CD rack understood too. In the middle of squished Aerosmith, Red Hot Chili Pepper, Linkin Park, Nirvana and Greenday, Backstreet Boys would just have to fit in. Somewhere. She was loyal. But not pre-pubescent loyal. She did not insanely drop to her knees and beg Lord for a meeting with them. She has other more important things to pray for. Nevertheless, she would love to meet the guys, if given the chance.
So how the hell a solitary tear was rolling down her cheek at the very moment?
“Dammit! Why don’t you wake up once in a while, huh?”
She swore, if she ever heard the same wavelength that formed the voice again, she would have to kill herself. The image of the blond guy driving away after a little contact with her bike was still unwontedly vivid. Hell, the smoke that wafted out of the Camaro’s exhaust did not even totally clear up. Jordan looked down to her not-so-much-of-a-bike-anymore bike, and her eyes traveled to her left feet. To move it was beyond painful. She whimpered softly.
Jordan reached for her back pocket and pulled out her cellphone. “Probably the only stuff present that is still functioning,” she muttered. After punching a familiar number, Jordan waited for the dial tone.
A faint whoosh identified as air coming out of the tire broke the unfathomed silence.
“Kara? Some ass decided to give my bike a kiss earlier……..”
“Dammit! Why don’t you wake up once in a while, huh?” Nick yelled, unable to contain his anger. The mountain bike was going to give a dent to his bumper, probably a scratch of green paint or two. Just what he needed.
Nick considered of braking and checking for damage, but he was running late. He might not be speeding, but the girl on the bike did experience quite a fall. He had just pulled off from the parking lot when out of nowhere, the dark blue mountain bike decided to appear in front of his car. It was not entirely his fault.
The girl was wearing a helmet, so he opted for the better and left it at it. Heck, the girl was probably cycling there just to run into him. Probably for an autograph. Or a photo. But Nick Carter could not be charming 24/7. He had places to be. In fact, he had places to be that morning and he so did not need Kevin’s yapping to start his day.
Nick pushed his sunglasses higher up the bridge of his nose. Yup, so he would suffer a scratch and a minus dent. It could have been worse. As for the girl, well, too bad.