With a sigh, the accursed shoe is rebuckled and Monica is upright again.She isn't walking anywhere, and that's not a choice she made, that's a fact she made apparent. And with home a bad option, Lance was her only good option, even if his pants only seemed to be tighter. If nothing else, she can at least get a ride to a mall or something where she can buy some real clothes and get the ability to step back.
Shrugging, Monica said, "Let's go."
A nod of the head was all that pointed Monica to Lance's bike, but that's all anyone needed. Not many of the students ride motorcycles, but even if it was popular Lance's would still stand out. He kept it covered with a cloth he had "Burn My Dread!" stitched into with red patches. This is supposed to help him find it in an instant, since black cotton covers were all too common, but Monica has always thought that it was just supposed to draw attention to it and him. While matching Lance's personality, he always said that defeats the purpose of the cover, but everyone knew he wasn't too worried, since he had every security feature on the market equipped to it.
The only question was how Monica was going to get all the way across the parking lot. Having Lance take it the whole way to her would be counterproductive and increase the odds of being caught, but she was in no way able to clear this herself. A small distance was difficult enough but doable, Monica didn't trust herself for this length. As if in answer to this concern, she felt her feet taken out from under her and her head flutter with confusion and color. It was several moments before she could process that she was cradled in Lance's arms and quickly making her way towards their ride out. Despite his leather jacket, Monica was almost certain she felt Lance's heart racing through it, though feared it may have been her own.
With some effort from Lance, the bike was freed from its excessive imprisonment. The rear seat quickly came into contact with Monica's behind, her mind telling her to hurry along before they're busted, as Lance packed away all the loose implements of security. Oblivious to the looks Monica was giving him, Lance still crawled along at his own pace to hand Monica a helmet. A groan was the only noise accompanying the clicking of the helmet straps. Only after this safety check did Lance finally mount his precious Night-Rod Special, but the effort placed on Monica's safety added to her fantasy of him as a brave knight rescuing a princess from her horrible fate and -
'Out! Out! Out!' Monica thought, her stomach churning at the mere thought of her falling for a character like Lance. 'I mean,' she continues, 'he's a great friend, but he treats all his girlfriends like they're cheap and trashy. Well, in his defense they usually are. But that's the point! I don't need people thinking that of me. And besides, he bosses me around as his friend. I don't want to think about what that's going to be as his girlfriend. And he's constantly horny! I can see his jeans bulge most of the day every day. It's like he's showing it off! You can't help but look. And fantasize about him. No! No, I...'
A long, internal struggle against any romantic notions for Lance pursued for the length of the ride, the person himself seemingly oblivious to everything. Monica hadn't even heard him ask if there was any place she wanted to go, allowing Lance to head where he wanted to go in the first place, taking her silence as a sign of following him. Unfortunately for Monica, their destination didn't offer much for a change of clothes.
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