By Gaby Triana
Chloé Rodriguez values 3 issues mainly else—her kinfolk; her ally, Rock; and Lolita, her Harley-Davidson 1200 Sportster. With a black physique, blue airbrushed flames, and excellent sloping ape hangers, Lolita is Chloé's final connection to her cherished uncle, Seth, who left her the motorbike while he died final summer time. So while a failing chemistry grade threatens to split Chloé from her bike, she vows to not permit that take place . . . it doesn't matter what.
Enter Gordon. Ridiculously prepared, übersmart, and sizzling in an off-the-cuff, doesn't-know-it form of manner, Chloé's peer train can have a specific thing or to educate her in addition to chemistry. yet she has to forestall falling for Gordon . . . and get Rock to behave mature every time he is round . . . and go chemistry so she does not lose Lolita eternally. simply whilst Chloé thinks she's received all of it discovered, a bump within the highway comes out of nowhere and sends her skidding.
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Additional info for Riding the Universe
He’s thrown in some new elements and extra symbols this time. “I’m not a member of Mensa. ” Whoa. Where was I when God handed out intelligence genes? ” Scribble, scribble. ” “Wow. ” I did not mean that as cruelly as it sounded. But Gordon doesn’t even blink twice. “You’re not kidding. ” I hit the nail on the head. He’s entirely obsessed with his brother’s success. But I guess if my older sibling paved a path of academic impossibility, I’d have an overly detailed organizer and weird sense of humor too.
He can kid! He may be human yet. ” I smile, much to my own chagrin. “For the record, Motor Girl, you know nothing about me. ” Hmm, I can’t say he’s wrong, even though he’s a dork for calling me “Motor Girl” again. I don’t know him. And he doesn’t know me, so touché. “Same goes for you. I may not be the best at chemistry, but otherwise, I have nothing to worry about. ” In fact, except for losing Seth, my life is just spiffy. Keeping safe from any more heartbreak is my main goal. That, not chemistry, is my biggest worry, Gordon.
I don’t know if I want to slug him or hug him. I have never had such a hard time getting someone to loosen up. Gordon’s sense of humor seems to be made of Sheetrock, or maybe he was just having a bad day. But there’s deﬁnitely something about the dude. Or maybe I’m just a big idiot for dimples. Shake it off, Chloé. The deluge has stopped, but not without leaving behind lakes and rivers in the parking lot. As I walk toward Lolita, I notice something on her. One of those fabric-lined plastic tarps.