Chapter 7

"Now that you say that, I got you something." I look at him wondering what he got. His exhaustion is replaced with excitement. "Come on."

My attention changes to the lamp that's lying on the floor. "What about the lamp?" Stupid question but it's broken and just laying there. And Father seems to just have forgotten it.

He looks at it. "We'll clean that up later." This present must be important for him to leave a mess like this.

That reminded me of my clothes hanging out in the hallway. "Speaking about clean and changing, umm I was wondering if you could get me new clothes."

He raises his brow at me. "What do you mean, did you grow?" He looks at me trying to see a change in the last two days.

I fiddle with my mother's necklace around my neck. "I just don't want clothes that are so..." Childish, colourful, girly? "vibrant. I want new clothes that are suited for combat and basic. Like shades of grey, black maybe even white?"

I sound stupid and confusing. I wonder what would have happened if I told him the real reason I want to change. At first, it was to act lethal but now, I see that pink is a little much for this world.

The expression on his face clearly states that he's confused. "I don't get it. A week ago, you wanted everything pink now you want black? What's so wrong with the clothes you have now? Didn't I just get you clothes the last time I was out?"

I roll my eyes. "Dad, I'm a grown woman. I need new clothes. Preferably black."

He tries to understand my new change in mood that he's managed to pull off as someone trying to solve a difficult math equation. His hand is raised to his mouth, eyes are glued on me and eyebrows drew together. I laughed at him. He's such a dad, confused because I'm a girl.

"Well I guess new clothes are expected since I just got you a dirt bike, but why black?"

My jaw dropped to the ground. Did I just hear him right? "Dirt bike?" I must be crazy or my hearing went.

He smiled at me. "Yeah, when we were out, we found a couple of dirt bikes on our way back. They need to be fixed up but I thought we could do something together since I'm always so busy."

I light up, "Where are they?"

In just one moment my father becomes the best father in the world. A dirt bike. I'm so excited that I couldn't contain it anymore. I began to skip in the hallways.

He took me back to the entrance of the base where my beauty awaits. I've always wanted a motorcycle since I saw the photo of one in the old calendar that hangs in Father's office. Even though it isn't exactly a motorcycle, a dirt bike will do for now. Sooner or later I'm bound to get a motorcycle. A dirt bike is a perfect place to start riding.

My father gets behind his truck to rip off the tarp that covers my excitement. The beauties capture my heart and my interest. I open the tailgate and pull out the ramps with the help of Father of course.

"It needs a touch-up job but that shouldn't take too long." He says while pulling on the rope that binds the bikes together.

I take a second to process, "It? That's singular. What about the other one?"

"That one's for spare parts and this..." He reveals a very pink dirt bike in front of me. "is yours."

I act happy but it's pink. Too pink. I stare at the thing and look back at my father pretending to be excited.

"Too pink?" He asks noticing my over-exaggeration

Slightly, no. Majorly too pink, yes. I smile and hold my tongue. If I say I don't like it, his frown will return and look like he's trying to solve that difficult math problem again. I just don't want to upset him.

"We could repaint? But that means going back out there to find paint and that's hard to come by." His eyebrows draw together once again.

My attention moves to the other bike. "What about that one? It's in the same shape as the pink one. Why don't we use the pink one for spare parts and I use this magnificent blue?"

He rubs the back of his kneck wondering if I should take the blue one. "It's just the blue one has more work to do and I'm afraid I won't know how to fix exactly what's wrong with it in time before I have to go back out there again."

I stop to think, "There has to be someone in this group that knows about bikes enough to help us, right? It's not a total lost cause."

He looks down, "I don't want to bother anyone with this though. Everyone is pretty busy with the stuff they have to do."

My hand raises to silence him. "Come on father, no one can say no to this cute face. I am the youngest one here, who could possibly say no?"

Before he could stop me I ran off finding someone who could help with our problem. There just has to be someone that could help. There isn't any room for doubt.

I spent half the day searching for someone who could help. I started with the soldier's but they said they were too busy helping restock the food and then after that, they had to do maintenance for their weapons. I asked the cooks but they said they had no idea what a two-stroke engine was and they also had to prep for dinner. I made my way through the base asking people in the hallway but most of them didn't know how to fix one or were too busy.

I refuse to find Braydon and ask him because stupid Tris would hang me if I did. The sad part of my predicament is that I'm almost certain that Braydon knows exactly how to fix it. I sigh at my failure and childish ways.

Who can I ask that could help? I sit on the steps of the stairs that lead to the kitchen with my hand on my cheek and lost in my thoughts. Two shoes walk into my vision and stop in front of me. By the design and badass look to it, the person in front of me is no other than Tris herself.

Instantly standing and beginning to walk away, she stopped me. "Aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?" She can't be serious.

She's really getting on my last nerve. I can't believe that she has the audacity to assume that I would ever ask her. I stare coldly into her eyes and cross my arms.

"Why would I ever ask the woman who," I dropped into a whisper. "beat the crap out of me over a boy?"

Tris rolls her eyes at me and places a hand on her hip. "Look you need a mechanic and I'm great at it. Just let me fix your two-stroke engine on your Yamaha YZ125."

I look at her trying to figure out her motive behind everything. "What's in it for you? Why bother helping the person you hate the most?"

She smiles. "To be nice."

I couldn't help stop the burst of laughter coming out of my mouth. "You, and nice? Fat chance. This is about something else."

"Why is me being so nice, so hard to believe? I could be nice. And why do I have to have a hidden motive behind my actions?"

"Your Tris." She gives me a really face. "What I mean is the only time you 'help' is when it has something to do with Braydon." Then it hit me.

"Fine, your right. It is about Braydon. Ever since this morning when he found you in his room, he's been acting odd. He doesn't really want to talk to me and when he does, he's as cold as ice. I don't know what I did to make him so mad at me."

I stare at her. "Seriously? You have no idea what you did that could possibly make him so upset."

She looks at me. "Yeah I know that, but he isn't supposed to unless you told him." Her mood changes into a lethal one.

"Don't look at me like that. Braydon knows me too well for me to hide any secrets. I didn't tell him but he suspects that you did do something to me. I can't stop him from thinking those things, so please stop looking like a psychopath."

She lets out a breath. "That means I have to show him that we're on good terms. I have to help you. He'll see that I would never harm you, love me again and you'll get a bike in the end. Win-win, right?"

I hate her but it makes sense. If she gets on Braydon's good side and I get a bike, that means she won't bother me for a while. I also get a bike but she gets Braydon. I frown at the thought of Braydon loving her again. But she knows her shit about engines.

Angry that she knows what she's talking about and even angrier at myself for agreeing to let her assist. "Fine. The dirt bikes are in the garage part of the base next to Bertha."

I hate her for being so obnoxious. I practically had a temper tantrum walking over to big Bertha, the tank we stole from the Humanoids.

Bertha stood mighty with her presence in the room. One day I'll ride her to victory and destroy those mother fucking Humanoids. But mostly to use her just to blow shit up. When we walked around Bertha, I saw Father attempting to fix my bike.

He looks like he's trying his best but can't quite figure out how it works. I take the lead and walk in first. I'm stopped dead in my tracks. Braydon sat on the table working on what I assume is the carburetor.

I flicker my attention to Tris who's fuming at me. Crap. She thinks I invited him here. I shake my head at her. Great, she doesn't believe me.

"Hey sweetie, what's Tris doing here?" Father asks kind of confused.

Everyone knows I hate Tris just as much as she hates me. This is why I don't associate with my enemies. It confuses people.

Braydon didn't bother looking up from the carburetor. He's still pissed at me for not telling him the truth about what really happened. Get over it, it's not like it's his problem. Jeez, can't I catch a break with these people?

"She knows about engines so she's helping us fix my bike," I say flatly and walk over to my father to sit next to him.

"Yeah, I'm helping fix the bike. " She smiles awkwardly at my father and then returns to stare at Braydon.

I look at my baby as she's been stripped from her parts. I hope they can make her look her best otherwise I might need to figure out how to fix her myself.

My father asks Tris questions about the bike and I run off to the pink one where Braydon happens to be stripping it. I peek over his shoulder. He seems to not notice me. This is the only time where I can be totally fine with being with Braydon. Father's distracting Tris and my interaction with Braydon is inevitable because he's fixing my bike.

"What do you want?" His voice quiet to not draw attention to us.

"Wondering if you need help. So do you need anything?" I slip onto the bench next to him.

He pauses before saying, "No."

I lean back to sneak a peek over to see Tris still distracted. "OK, just let me know what to do."

My heart sinks. I knew he wouldn't forgive me so soon but I thought maybe he could take a break from this war to let me help him. I guess I'll just work on something else. When I was about to get up, he sticks out his hand.

"Pass me the x strew driver."

Without a word, I grabbed the screwdriver and handed it to him. An uncontrollable smile crept on my face. I sat quietly watching him work. Every now and then, he'll ask for a tool and I became his assistant for a little while.

The dirt bike was back to looking like it was in its glory days a few short hours later. Turns out there wasn't much to fix it. Just changing old parts to better ones.

My heart begins to pound when the make or break part of fixing the bike comes into play. Whether or not the engine will start feels big. If it starts, it means we fixed it properly. If not, well, we'll have four disappointed people here. But I know we fixed it good.

Father took out the key from his pocket and gave them to me. I stared at them. I should get a key chain since I'm starting to think I'm going to lose all these keys if I don't hold them together. I hold the keys tighter in my hand and sit on the dirt bike.

"Wanna see this puppy purr?" I ask the crowd.