Why is he like that? I’ve never felt this way with Kate and Lucas. Not even when I’d known them just a few days.

The bike path narrows toward the exit, and Fender lets me go ahead. This part of the park is pitch black and I focus on my front light.

“I can hardly see anything.”

“At least you’ve got a light,” I hear from behind me.

It takes a moment to sink in, but then I swing around to look. My bike swerves.

“Hey, be careful! Or I’m going to have to pick you up off the ground again.”

Fender’s sarcastic tone barely gets through to me this time. That big headlight, the one that was just dazzling me, is nowhere to be seen.

Whoever was following me had a different bike.

It wasn’t Fender.

I looked like a crazy person, cycling that close behind her.

What if she’d seen me?

And what was he suddenly doing there?

I wonder if he’s read the letter yet.

I put it in the mail yesterday,

right in time for the weekend.

And did he cry when he read it,

like I did?

Entrance

Linnea

“Hey, missy! You daydreaming?” A man behind me rings his bell impatiently. “The light’s green!”

Startled, I ride off as quickly as I can. My ribs still feel a bit sore after falling off my bike last night.

It took me a long time to get to sleep. The thought of the bike with the big headlight kept me awake.

Who was it? What did they want? And what would have happened if Fender hadn’t come along?

At the last stoplight before the Riverside, I have to wait again. The bike path is busy. There’s a bunch of tourists on rental bikes, all clumped together. When the light turns green, they set off at once. I almost lose my balance as they force me up against the curb.

In a flash, I see a dark-brown bike among the other bikes. It has a big front light, like a car’s headlight.

My body reacts faster than my mind does. It feels as if I’m falling, my heart skipping a beat.

He’s here again.

That’s not possible. Is it?

I look again, but I don’t see him anywhere. The cyclist has vanished into thin air.

“Hey!” Kate squeals excitedly when I get to the Riverside. “You’re the first one here.”

I give her a kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”

I have to forget about the cyclist. I’m probably just mistaken anyway. Why would anyone want to follow me? Besides, this town’s huge. There must be plenty of dark bikes with big headlights like that.

“What are you thinking about, Spinner?”

“Spinner?”

“Yeah,” says Kate. “Your head always seems to be busy spinning yarns.”