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Ding, Ding. Ding, Ding. People keep getting in my way. If it weren’t for the bell on my bike I know I would have hit into someone by now. Apparently, I’m even invisible on a fire engine red street bike. I mean, I’m invisible most of the time but it is a very flashy bike. You would have thought someone could spot it a mile away.

I’m Kalian Caoimhe. If your wondering how to pronounce that, your not the only one. Kaliyah is pronounced kah-LEE-yah and Caoimhe is pronounced KEEV-ah. My parents like to make everything harder than it has to be. I, personally, loathe those names. People call me KC because of this.

As you have probably insinuated by now, I’m a biker. On a bicycle of course. I see motorcycles as gas guzzling monsters. I’ve always loved biking. I learned how to ride a two-wheeler by the time I was four years old.

At the moment, I am on my way to my friend’s house from work. I work at a bicycle shop. It works out nicely since I love bikes and it is one of the only places that will hire a sixteen year old.

My friend’s name is Susan. Everyone calls her Sue. She is also sixteen and has been my best friend and neighbor since before we were even born. Our moms grew up together and then bought houses adjacent to each other. Sue and I may be best friends, but we are polar opposites. She wears tight, stylish cloths and I wear baggy, out of style cloths, unless I’m in a bike race. She is popular and I’m the girl in the background. She can have any guy she wants and I don’t even think guys know that I’m alive. She is tall and I’m short. She is naturally blond and tan and I’m a brunet and pale skinned.

There is one major thing that brings us together though. That thing is bike riding. It is nice to have someone to train with. We’ll train for months whenever and wherever we can. Then we will enter in a bike competition. That’s what we’re doing today. There is a ten-mile bike race tomorrow and we both have entered. I beat her in the last race and I know she wants vengeance.

After about 15 minutes, I see Sue’s house up ahead. It is a red brick, Victorian style home that has four stories. It also has an arch over the white French doors, a white rap around porch on the ground level, and white balconies scattered throughout the second through fourth levels. The doors going out to those balconies are also white, French doors but they have windows in them, unlike the front door. There is a white, four-car garage attached to its side. About a block away, I see the house next to it. It’s an exact match but the bricks are tan instead of red and the doors, porch, garage, and balconies are all black. That’s my house.