Foreman gave himself a mental shake after telling the story. Coming out with a memory like that was part of how he knew that his relationship with Amber was different. He was different when he was with her. Marcus didn't enter his mind most of the time, and when he did, Foreman pushed the thoughts aside just as quickly. Marcus had had more than enough chances, and Foreman had made the decision not to give him any more. So why the hell was he bringing him up? He'd done it before, too, when they were mini-golfing. Amber seemed to invite confidences; the way she met his eyes made him feel like what he was saying was the only thing in the world.

Still, he didn't want to hash out his entire family history. He glanced down and saw Amber's hand, close to his but not pushing, not presuming. That felt good, better than it should, and he relaxed slightly. He covered her hand with his, stroking the side with his thumb. He couldn't help a quick laugh at Amber's question. "He thought I'd done it just to get us in trouble," he said. Marcus had seen it as the most supremely unfair thing in a very unfair life. Eric got to have the bike in the first place, and Eric had a midnight curfew two hours later than his, and Eric was the favourite--that was Marcus's whole refrain, from about thirteen onwards. Foreman had to admit, from a distance, it would have to seem that way. "Mom banned motorcycles, and he didn't get it after all. He said he'd beaten me because I didn't finish the race." And, because it hadn't been entirely heartless, he added, "After he saw me get up."

Fuck, this was a depressing topic. Why did he have to drag them down into them all the time? He smiled at Amber, trying to make less of it. "I'd rather hear about how you were in a sorority," he said. "Any other interesting pledge stories?"