Queasy Rider

Her name was Clare, and I was a fool in love, a fool with no chance in hell, a fool who thought he could ride his bike around in circles, arms extended in the air, as if in victory, shouting, "I love Clare Golden! I love Clare Golden!"

I don't remember doing this; I don't remember falling; and I certainly don't remember my head cracking open and spilling brain fluid and all my love onto the cold pavement. But my sister and my best friend at the time both swore it happened that way. I regained consciousness 30 minutes later with the words "I feel queasy." That night was spent in the hospital, hearing lecture after lecture on the importance of wearing a helmet.

I was 10 years old, and it would've been a disaster if Clare and the rest of the school heard about it. But my sister knew she'd get a brotherly beating if she talked. And my best friend -- well, he had shit his white jeans a few weeks earlier and certainly didn't want that getting out.

| Where Did Our Love Gogh?| Under Where?| Thank Heaven for Little Girls| Doing the Right Wrong Thing| Aw, Shoot| Submitted for Approval| Liar, Liar| All Night Long| Hello, Sailor| Sign of the Times| Queasy Rider| Tripping the Lights| Bar Fright| Circles of Love|