"I opened my window and let the March air curl around me. I stepped onto the fire escape and looked up into the night sky, wishing like I did every night, to see something more than the castoff light from neon signs and storefronts.
But tonight, there was something more—there was Marcus Miller."
When we stepped out of Audrey’s building and onto the sidewalk, I couldn’t help but grin, and Lex patted me hard on the back, giving me his usual one-armed hug. My palms were sweaty and I didn’t say a word, but my dad was too excited to notice. I rubbed my stomach, staring at the bike—my bike—as Lex dangled keys in front of my face.
“Wake up, M.C.—you got a motorcycle calling your name. Can’t you hear her?” He cupped his hand near his ear and tilted his head. “She’s saying, ‘Get me on the road, Jedi Master Miller, I want you to take me for a ride.’”
I laughed absently, rubbing my stomach. Little did Lex know how soon she’d be on the road.
We know--he doesn't seem the traveling type. From all appearances, Happy Buddha would be content with a nice cup of tea and a jolly good joke, but such is not the case, friends. You see, after you read THE START OF US (voraciously, from cover to cover, at least four times), we hope you'll be 'enlightened' regarding the origins of Buddha's wanderlust. Send us an email each week guessing where Buddha is to win prizes.
Oh, Buuuuuuuddha....where are you?
"...luckily for me, I was smack dab in the middle of Chinatown—a sweet and sour pork Mecca. I grabbed takeout at a late-night window and dove in as I walked back to the alley outside Mei Li's window, retrieved my stash of fortune cookies I'd hidden behind a sandwich board sign, and took a seat on the ground.
I was so tired. Like drag-myself-down-the-street tired. Maybe all the fortune cookies were catching up to me. I’d stop eating. After this next one.
I opened it and pulled out the slip.
Wisdom comes in 10 parts, 9 of which are silence. The tenth is brevity of language. —Proverbs
Did that include Eye Convos? They were completely silent. Yet…completely not.
I could use a good Eye Convo right now."
Have a question you have been pondering with no answer in sight? Email us your mysteries on the contact page and Marcus' Magic 8 Ball will answer them here.
I smiled and shook my head. "You're so weird, Drey—seriously. Yes, my facial hair is developmentally appropriate and yes, I'd rather have a motorcycle than a girl. Girls didn't get me my soccer scholarship or my 4.0. And I'm pretty sure, despite my limited experience, they won't help me keep it either. That's it—end of story. I'm not gay, I'm not bitter, and I’m definitely not a freak because you took all the available family freak genes. I just want my freakin' motorcycle, okay? Don't make me show you the picture of my soon-to-be girlfriend again…"
"You just haven't met the right girl, that’s all.” She shook her head and licked her fork. “Wait until you do. Then it will be motorcycle- shmotorcycle. You'll want her wayyyyyyyy more. She can do things motorcycles can't."
"So what you do," I explained, unlocking The Clubhouse door and pushing it open, grateful my dad wouldn’t be home for hours, "is pile the Oreos in a really big bowl—the biggest you can find. And then you drown them in milk, and when I say drown, I mean drown—like…a Pacific Ocean. Then, you wait 4 1/2 minutes before eating them. They'll be perfectly soaked and it will change your life."