The Trail Rules (The Rules Series #2)
by Melanie Hooyenga
Genre: YA Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 9th 2018
Summary:
Junior year’s looking up for sixteen-year old Mike. Her new BFF isn’t a sadistic control freak, her boyfriend adores her, and she’s learning to bike in the mountains without decapitating herself on a tree.
Well, almost.
When she meets a group of riders who welcome her into their pack, she feels like she’s finally found where she belongs. One particular rider—a boy with an amazing smile and an even more amazing ability to see what she’s truly capable of—gives her the confidence to go after what she wants: her own life with her own rules.
There’s only one problem—he’s not her boyfriend.
Just as things seem to be falling into place, her parents put on the pressure to figure out her future—one that doesn’t include riding. Mike soon realizes that having everything isn’t that great when she’s not the one choosing it. She needs to decide if she’s going to continue to be a follower or step out of the shadows and find her own trail.
by Melanie Hooyenga
Genre: YA Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 9th 2018
Summary:
Junior year’s looking up for sixteen-year old Mike. Her new BFF isn’t a sadistic control freak, her boyfriend adores her, and she’s learning to bike in the mountains without decapitating herself on a tree.
Well, almost.
When she meets a group of riders who welcome her into their pack, she feels like she’s finally found where she belongs. One particular rider—a boy with an amazing smile and an even more amazing ability to see what she’s truly capable of—gives her the confidence to go after what she wants: her own life with her own rules.
There’s only one problem—he’s not her boyfriend.
Just as things seem to be falling into place, her parents put on the pressure to figure out her future—one that doesn’t include riding. Mike soon realizes that having everything isn’t that great when she’s not the one choosing it. She needs to decide if she’s going to continue to be a follower or step out of the shadows and find her own trail.
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EXCERPT:
I’ve always loved being outdoors—I
think it’s a requirement when you live in Colorado—but I never imagined how
much I’d come to crave being “one with the dirt,” as Evan likes to say. A lot
of boarders and skiers ride when there’s no snow but with Brianna leading the
way, I’d never gotten into this scene.
Now I’m grateful for it.
I flex my forearms as we crest the
first incline, letting gravity pull me downhill. Evan’s far enough ahead that I
won’t run him over if he crashes—another thing I’m still getting used to. When
I ski, I never take chances so there’s no risk of falling, but careening
through the woods while balanced on two rubber tubes kind of guarantees you’re
gonna fall.
The wall of trees thickens. I squeeze
the brakes to slow down but don’t sit. That’s another thing I’ve learned: the
seat’s pretty much there to stop the bike from impaling you. It’s not for
sitting—at least not on hills.
Sunlight streams through an opening far
above, highlighting a gnarly root jutting from the side of the narrow trail. I
pull up on the handlebars and smile when my front wheel safely clears the
twisted wood.
“Hook left!” Evan’s voice carries up to
me.
A wall of trees lies straight ahead.
I’d probably slam into them without his warning. I test the brakes and ease
into the turn, leaning left like he taught me. My stomach flutters like I’m on
the big drop on a roller coaster. A tiny piece of me is still afraid I’m going
to tip over if I lean too far, but I do it anyways. My arms shake as I bounce
over the uneven trail, the vibrations rattling my teeth, but I don’t fall. When
the path straightens, a smile spreads over my face. Evan could do this trail in
his sleep but I’m still shocked any time I make it through a turn unscathed.
His bright green shirt flashes through
the trees ahead of me. I pedal to gain speed and force myself to take slow,
steady breaths. Being able to see him helps me navigate the turns because I
know what to expect, but I still need to watch the ground. Riding requires
split focus—way more than skiing—because the kind people at the ski resorts
clear stumps and rocks from the runs.
When I see him stopped at the edge of
the trail my whole body relaxes.
“Need a break?” he asks.
I don’t, but he’s already stopped so I
rest a foot on the ground, the other still on the pedal, and grab my water
bottle from the crossbar. “Just for a sec.”
“You’re
doing great, Mike. I hope you know that—”
A whoop from up the trail where we just
were makes us both turn. Flashes of orange and yellow fly through the trees and
in seconds two bikers skid to a stop next to us. They both drop a foot to the
ground, smiles plastered to their mud-streaked faces. There’s so much dirt it’s
hard to tell skin or hair color. With the exception of their neon shirts,
they’re brown from head to toe.
The guy in yellow nods at Evan.
“Gorgeous day, huh?”
Mr. Orange nods at me. “Y’all okay?” A
couple day’s worth of stubble peeks through the mud, making him look older than
his friend.
Evan and I say, “Yeah,” in unison.
“Just taking a quick break,” Evan adds.
“I’m Topher,” says Yellow Guy.
“Evan.”
I lift a hand in a wave. “Mike.”
“No, shit?” Topher says.
I’m used to getting weird reactions
about my name, so I just shrug.
Topher nudges Mr. Orange, who glances
at the ground before saying, “Mica.”
Topher doubles over laughing, but the
rest of us just smile. A name is a name. It’s not like I haven’t met fifty
billion Mikes before.
But either Mica’s never met a girl
named Mike or he doesn’t handle teasing well, because the tips of his ears turn
red beneath his helmet.
I flick my thumb over the lever for my
brake. Evan clears his throat. And poor Mica shifts his weight from one foot to
the other as his friend slowly realizes no one else is laughing.
Topher pushes his shoulders back and
nods up the trail. “Haven’t seen you before.”
Evan smiles at me. “It took me a while
to convince her.”
There’s so much unsaid in that
statement—me choosing him over Brianna, finally learning to ride—and the warmth
that usually spreads through me when he says things like that turns to irritation.
Like I’d never consider riding without his permission.
Topher doesn’t seem to notice my mood
shift. He clicks his brake gear back and forth. “You enter the Pow Cross?”
The spell breaks and I whip my head at
him. “Pow Cross?”
Mica finally finds his voice, and I’m
startled at how it’s both smooth and rumbly at the same time, like it’s coming
from deep in his chest. “It’s a big race at the end of
the season. There’s categories for all levels so you”—his eyes meet mine for a
millisecond, then flick to Evan—“can enter even if you’re a beginner.”
Evan’s face lights up. On the
competitiveness scale, he’s below Cally but definitely above me, and I can
already tell he wants to do it. “Where do we sign up?”
I hold up a hand and Topher quirks an
eyebrow. “Why pow? Isn’t that snow?”
Topher grips his handlebars like that’s
all that’s keeping him from bouncing out of his skin. “Technically, there’s
pow—snow—and brown pow,” he points at the dirt beneath us, “but this race is so
late in the season there’s usually snow.”
“Biking in snow?”
Mica grins. “It’s pretty rad.”
“It sounds cold.”
“You’ve got gear that’ll work.” Evan
leans toward me and runs his hand down my arm. For a split second it feels like
he’s marking his property, but Evan’s not like that. And besides, these guys
are older. Mica practically has a beard. We’re just a couple kids and they’re
being nice. He turns to Topher. “Thanks, man. We’ll check it out.”
Topher hops off his bike to fist bump
Evan, then me. “Sweet.” Then he’s back on his bike and heading down the trail.
“See ya!”
Mica rests a foot on his pedal. “It’s a
cold race, but it’s awesome. Think about it.” He catches my eye and holds my
gaze for a beat, then is back on his bike and pedaling away.
Evan faces me. “What do you think?”
My mind follows Mica and his piercing
gaze down the trail. We barely made eye contact but it’s like he saw right
through me. What’s that about? I
shake the thought away.
“You’re not even gonna consider it?”
“What? Oh.” He took my head shake as a
no to his question. I smile, but it feels forced. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.
It sounds fun.”
He squeezes my arm. “That’s all it
would be. Fun. No pressure.”
If Evan thinks I should, I probably
will.
“You ready?” I nod, and he mounts his
bike and takes off after Topher and Mica.
I feel unsteady, but for once it’s not
because of my lack of riding skills. I’m not sure what just happened, and I
don’t like the tiny part of me that hopes we catch up to them.
About the Author
Multi-award
winning young adult author Melanie Hooyenga first started writing as a teenager
and finds she still relates best to that age group. She has lived in Washington
DC, Chicago, and Mexico, but has finally settled down in her home state of
Michigan. When not at her day job as a Communications Director at a nonprofit,
you can find Melanie attempting to wrangle her Miniature Schnauzer Owen and
playing every sport imaginable with her husband Jeremy.
Author
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