Just for kicks, here’s part of one of my favorite scenes in the book, from chapter 13, Motorcycles and Two-Stepping:

Rage tied an orange do-rag onto his head, pulled a black helmet over it, then mounted the bike. Crystal took three cleansing breaths and climbed on behind him. Turning his head sideways, Rage said, “Just hang on to me really tight, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

She nodded, too terrified to speak.

“Ready? Keep your feet up, and don’t touch the pipes with your legs, they’re gonna get really hot.”

The bike’s engine roared to life with a deafening rumble. Crystal grimaced and put her hands over her ears.

“Crystal!” Rage yelled over his shoulder, “I told you not to let go of me! Not once!”

She clapped her hands back around his torso, grabbing hunks of his shirt in her fists.

“Ready?” he said.

“No, Dad, I really think maybe…”

He revved the engine, drowning out her words. The bike leapt forward and her stomach lurched. Gravel from the parking lot sprayed everywhere as the bike shot toward the exit. Crystal screamed at the top of her lungs and squeezed her eyes closed. Please, God, don’t let me die, please, God, I’m too young to die.

Eyes glued shut, she felt the ride become smoother as Rage turned the bike onto the road. She cracked one eye open.

Pavement flew beneath her feet at a dizzying rate. If I let go I’m dead. Road kill. DEAD! Snapping her eye shut, Crystal screamed again until her breath gave out—then took a breath and shrieked some more. She squeezed her arms so tightly around her dad that she thought her muscles might give out from the strain. The motorcycle kicked into a higher gear—definitely faster than twenty-five miles per hour—and the wind whistled by her face so hard she half expected her nose to fly off. Ducking her head down, she rested her helmet against Rage’s back and screamed until her voice began to crack and she had to stop. She settled for groaning, “Mmmmmm,” into his back.

After what felt like an eternity, Rage slowed the bike a little. Crystal tightened her grip on the front of his shirt and rolled her head to the side, her left cheek still plastered to his back. Cracking her right eye open, she tilted her head up to peek at Rage. He had craned his neck sideways, and was yelling something over his shoulder. “Ohhh youu aiiii,” she heard, over the roar of the engine.

“What?”

“OPEN YOUR EYES!” he yelled.