“And what about you? What about your pretty head?” His mouth crooks up, and I already know what he’s going to say before he says it. “You think I’m pretty?” “I think you’re stubborn. And full of yourself. And—” He shoves the helmet over my head, shutting me up. I flick the visor up and glare at his stupid, smiling face. “If you crash and break that big, stupid head of yours, I’ll never forgive you,” I tell him loud enough to be heard, knocking him out of the way and throwing my leg over the seat.
