Love Is Always Write Volume 4

time."
    He roared off and Aaron kick-started his bike and sped after him towards the start line. His new bike was sitting in the garage at home, but he loved this old Suzuki so damn much, he couldn't bear to leave it behind. It had been his competition bike, back in his late teens, in the days before things got bad. It was fifteen years old now, and it was still his favorite, though the shock absorbers were starting to go and it wasn't the smooth ride it once was.
    Arkwright Mount was one of his favorite circuits - but it was treacherous in wet weather. By the time he took the second downhill section, and turned on to the loop that the course had included years ago before it was closed off for being too dangerous, he was cursing himself for his bravado. The bike slid sideways down the hill and his main focus now was on getting to the finish line in one piece rather than refining his technique ahead of the big race the week after next.
    The races were all for fun these days, of course. Back then, he'd imagined a future when he'd go pro, before all the messy stuff started happening. But almost more than the races organized by the motocross club, he enjoyed these crazy rides with Danny, where they'd go off and take in one of the disused tracks that he remembered from his teen years before the big money arrived and the amateur events began to dry up.
    He could hear Danny's bike roaring into the distance, and the adrenaline kicked in. He jumped the bike over the camelback - no flashy one-handed landings today - and then it happened. A microsecond's misjudgment and the bike was sliding out from under him, disappearing down the scrubby hillside with him following on his butt and his side, helpless to catch it.
    The bike lodged, undamaged, against a bush but Aaron kept sliding, right down into the boggy riverbed at the bottom of the hill. He pulled himself to his feet and sighed. He was bruised and battered, but nothing that wouldn't heal itself. The most important thing now was the bike, and he'd have to wait for Danny to come back. There was no way he could drag it back up the slippery slope on his own. He hoped his buddy hadn't got too far ahead before he heard the silence behind him, or Aaron would have a long, lonely wait.
    He grimaced as he glanced down at himself. There wasn't a square inch below his neck that wasn't coated in the thick red Georgia mud that had inspired so many songs over the years. He was glad he'd left a spare bag at the camp with a change of clothes, but for now his jacket was clammy and uncomfortable, so he pulled it off and stripped down to his T-shirt, grateful for the bright sun that had just broken through the cloud.
    He sat down on a boulder to wait, cocking his ear for the sound of Danny's bike. He didn't have long to wait before he heard the revs getting louder, as Danny retraced his path.
    And then Danny's voice, concerned, as he saw the slide marks where the bike had gone over the edge.
    "Aaron, you OK, buddy?"
    "Down here!"
    Aaron went to wave his jacket as he yelled, so Danny would see him, but he lost his footing and disappeared back into the mud, just as Danny appeared on the bank.
    Danny's look of concern quickly turned to laughter as he doubled up at the sight of Aaron's miserable face and his mud-bathed body.
    "Is my bike OK?" hollered Aaron. That was all that mattered right now.
    "Looks fine, pal," reassured Danny, and he relaxed.
    "Don't worry," added Danny, scrambling down to him once he'd made sure his own bike wasn't going anywhere. "Two of us will easily pull her back up. Looks like you're in worse shape than the bike."
    "I'm fine," said Aaron. Danny extended a hand to him - and then lost his balance as Aaron took it, ending up flat on his front in the mud and floundering to get up until he was as caked in it as Aaron.
    Aaron lost track of how long they lay there, laughing at the sight of each other. He wouldn't have chosen to plunge down the hillside, but God, it was good to laugh again.
    With Danny's help, he got the bike back up to the track and before heading back to camp, they took a detour to a spot he remembered from his childhood: a waterfall with a bathing pool below. Teeth chattering, they sluiced the mud from their bodies, stripping off so it reminded him of his seven-year-old self skinny-dipping with school friends long gone.
    Waist-deep, he flicked the freezing water at Danny, who lunged at him and caught him off balance, and the two of them went down into the