;">Riding the Streets


Have you ever wanted a Prince to come along, riding down your street on a horse and to stop suddenly, noticing you for the first time? Have you ever wanted it so badly that you would dream about it every day? That one day, he'd climb up to your tower, lift you off of your feet and push past anything in your way, then kiss you senseless when you're safe?

No, well me either.

My 'Prince Charming', wasn't really one of those guys.

He rode a bike.

It's quite funny, you know. My only encounters with this guy was every morning, when he'd ride down my street- on his bike like every single day of the year- and not once did he stop to notice the girl sitting at the window, watching him intently. Not once.

If you don't know already, I'm that girl.

But, he didn't only come in the mornings; he'd also come riding down the street on his bike in the afternoon.

Every time, he'd be dressed in the same trouser pants and white business-like shirt. As sad as it sounds, that's the only thing I ever noticed about him. I was far too focused, trying to read his school shirt emblem that I didn't get a clear shot of his face and when I did try to focus the only thing I would see the curls of his blond hair.

And you must be wondering why this guy- who I barely even knew- was so important to me.

So I'll answer.

This guy was so important to me because he always made everything better.

It's seems oh-so-cheesy, but the funny thing is, it's true. Completely true.

You see, along my teenage life I've had a couple- alright more than just a couple- of disappointing scenarios. The normal teenage problems, like losing someone close to you or having arguments with your parents. Any teenager could have gotten past any of those scenarios, but I was one of those sooks that needed someone to help me cope through those times and well, he was that person.

During University, I was so busy and never spoke to any of my family - which was weird – but the funny thing was he never left my mind.

The Mysterious Bike Rider who was always found Riding the Streets.

My street.

"Michelle you've gotten far too skinny."

Typical Mothers, no, 'I miss you' or 'it's great to have you back', it was basically to the point, 'you've gotten too skinny'. It's just like old times, I'd come back home from a sleepover that had lasted a day, or from camp and she'd complain about my weight. My mother was the stereotypical mother that'd tell you 'you're too skinny' and then she'd force food down your mouth, even though you weren't hungry and wouldn't be satisfied until you had eaten two plates filled with food. Even though I hated that factor about my mother, I still loved her miserably.

I started to argue before I heard the snickers from the kitchen door, turning I glared and waited for the comment. "What are you talking about, she's still as huge as she was the day she exited that door!"

I poked my tongue out at him. My twin, Michael, always said smartarse comments about me to anyone. Friends, family, strangers- you name it and he told them anything embarrassing or personal to them about me.

We were identical twins, Michael and I- me being the older one by five minutes. We were both twenty- five. I'd like to assume that when we entered the world, my parents found it adorable if they blessed their twins with similar names, Michael and Michelle. It was embarrassing and to top it off when we were out and about at family functions, everyone would comment on the features that we shared. 'You were both blessed with your mother's green eyes," my aunt Kath would say. 'Such a cute small nose and cheeks,' my grandmother would say and pinch our cheeks. 'You're hair is so curly and dark!'

And the horror would continue.

Smirking, I threw two handballs at his head. He asked what they were for and I told him, "You lost your last pair so I got you new pair."

Mum laughed. Turning to her Michael asked, "You're going to let her get away with this aren't you?" Nodding, she hid a smile. "Typical, Michelle always gets away with everything."

Let me tell you a couple things about my twin Michael. He seems to always say something about me 'always getting my way', which is definitely not true. He's always gotten his way- well when I wasn't there.

Let me also tell you that Michael and I were polar opposites with our personalities. He was outrageous and outgoing; I was somewhat quiet- but only when I wasn't with people I knew and trusted. He was athletic- six pack and all; I was a bookworm- lucky to be curvy yet slim. While he stayed back home to help dad with his mechanic business and to eat mum's food; I went to university and to become a chef. When we were growing up he'd have a new girlfriend every two days; I'd have a new idea for a recipe every other day. I was known as 'Michaels little sister'; he was known as the resident bad boy... although in truth he was the biggest softy and mummy's boy.

And these differences were what set us both into the social groups and into our natural spars.

"Mimi!" I felt brotherly arms wind around my waist and pull me into a tight bear hug. "Why do you feel so skinny!"

I slapped his arm, "I'm not skinny!"

"Yeah Jake, she's not skinny!" Michael snickered.

"Shut up!" We both yelled and Jake released me from his tight hold, leaving his right arm around my shoulders. It was a natural thing for both Jake and I to side against Michael,- our little brother- in any argument. If anything Jake was the one person that ever knew about my crush on 'My Mysterious Bike Guy' and because of this he'd always tease me. Jake was usually the first person to know anything about me- we were fairly close after all. You could call us best friends but then it'd be weird because he was also my older brother.

Jake was similar in the looks department to Michael and I, except he had inherited dad's blue eyes and his hair was more of a light shade of brown. He was also taller than Michael and me, but he didn't have the muscles that Michael so obviously had. Like Michael, he had stayed back to help dad with his shop, but like me he loved to cook. You could say that my personality is basically a replica of Jake's, except he's out-going and outrageous like Michael.

"Did dad drop you off," Jake asked.

"Yeah, he's in the garage working on some car," I said waving my hand dismissively. My father was always working on a car. There was not a day in the years that I've lived at home, that he wouldn't at least spend an hour or more in his garage fixing a car.

Jake smirked. "When you see that car, you're going to love it!"

"How so?"

Jake's smirk grew into a smile. "I just know."

I nodded, confused.

The phone rang. I looked towards mum; she looked away. The phone barely ever rang and if it did it'd be my aunty asking about what food to bring to a gathering. "You're having a party aren't you?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," she murmured and instead of giving me answers to my next few questions, she walked off to go answer it.

I looked towards Jake. "Spill."

He groaned. "It's tonight."

"Damn it!" I swore at the same time Michael said, "You're such an idiot."

Typical. I'm not even home for one day and mum's already having a celebration.

Let's just hope I can somehow escape it.

I woke up early and had no idea why.

Last night, we had gone over to my auntie's house and stayed there until 11 o'clock at night eating and drinking the night away. When we had arrived home everyone had excused themselves, leaving Jake and I talking into the night, telling each other things we'd done the years away from home. Well mostly him because I hadn't had time to do much with my social life at University but I had flown by it with credits and distinctions.

And so I asked myself, "why the hell am I awake."

For five minutes I tried to go back to sleep; but couldn't. I was annoyed when I had to get out of my warm bed to go and have a shower and get ready for the day ahead of me.

As I was getting changed I felt something stir inside of me as I looked towards my clock and read the time. 7.50. I groaned loudly. I had come home to think that I would finally be able to sleep and think clearly but apparently I couldn't. My morning traits had found their way back home with me.

So as I walked downstairs, where I poured myself a cup of orange juice in the kitchen, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of my 'Mysterious Bike Guy' still riding his bike down this street at this ungodly hour of the day.

And because of this thought, I found myself walking outside to sit in front of my Jake's car as I sipped my drink and thought about him.

He was one of the rare guys that I had noticed that kept on riding his bike, despite having his licence like most of the seniors who speeded down my road, showing off to their friends. No matter what, rain hail or shine, he'd ride down my street and would quickly disappear.

No matter what he was always there.

This guy- a guy I barely even knew- who came riding down my street and without knowing who he actually was, he could take my breath away.

This guy, a guy whom I barely even knew, who no matter what came riding down my street, had an effect on me and without knowing it, he could take my breath away by just appearing.

A few minutes passed by and I looked away from my glass to check the time on my watch. 8.10.

Any minute now, I thought as I looked towards the corner of the street, willing him to appear at the end of it.

And he did.

And at that minute, so did my brother Jake.

Smiling, my brother waved at him and he stopped. I frowned, since when did my brother know this guy? And most important, since when did my brother not introduce me to a guy he knew I had a small crush on?

Removing his helmet, blonde outgrown hair appearing from under it, he got off of his bike, his tall lean body reaching over six feet tall. To me, he seemed close enough to be an angel with his agile and strong structured face. But I had thought as much when I had only glimpsed him.

"Jake," Mysterious Bike Guy greeted as he clapped my brother on the back and gave him a man-hug.

My brother nodded to him, "Blake."

I smiled softly at the sound of his name. I wouldn't say it suited him but it somehow it completed the picture that I had drawn of him in my mind. I mean, it's not every day that a girl actually gets to meet the guy she's been silently crushing on for a couple years. Or maybe that's just me?

They began to talk about something and seeing as they still hadn't noticed me I started making my way back to the front door. Slowly I took a tiptoed towards the door, making sure I was quiet and still unnoticeable, not that it was that hard to achieve since he still hadn't noticed me. I was across the driveway, my body hidden by the car, I breathed I sigh of relief. Thank goodness they weren't paying any attention or turning around.

Tilting my head to the side I caught some of their conversation, "So he wanted me to ask if you'd be there?" asked Jake.

"I don't know if I can," I heard Blake say, sighing. He started to say something else, but feeling bad about eavesdropping I turned around and continued to walk back to the door.

I smiled. There were only five steps towards the door and already I was almost there.


I lifted up my cup of orange juice.


I smiled into the cup as I took a sip.


I swallowed and took another sip, edging towards the door.


Smiling, I stood in front of the door, turning my face to admire the man that was still chatting with my brother on the front lawn.

Turning back, I sighed.


Well, I think I could have stepped, had it not been for the fact that Michael came barging out the door, slamming it on my face.

I winced.

Ouch, just a little bit.

Raising my finger to my lips, I tried to tell my brother to be quiet but he looked past me towards where two other sets of eyes were on me. "Mimi!" I heard Jake say as he ran up towards me. "Are you alright?"

I sighed, No I'm not alright! My face hurts and Blake is staring at me and- and-

I groaned. This was so not worth it!