Girl Bike Accident Love - Makeover & Dressup
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Zoe dashed through the park, her sneakers pounding the sunlit path, when a sharp screech of brakes shattered the calm. Zack’s bike collided with her in a tangle of limbs and metal, sending her crashing onto the gravel. Blood seeped through her torn jeans as he knelt beside her, hands trembling while he fumbled for a first-aid kit from his backpack. His apologies spilled out in a frantic stream as he pressed gauze to her scraped knee, their eyes locking just long enough for her pained grimace to sear into his memory. By dusk, Zack’s apartment felt suffocating. Visions of Zoe’s windblown hair and the way she’d hissed “*Watch where you’re going!*” replayed like a broken record. He tossed leftovers into the microwave, but his stomach churned—not from hunger, but the gnawing realization that her sharp wit and the defiant glint in her eyes had rewired his brain. Sleep brought no escape. Dreams twisted the collision into something softer: her laughter echoing as he bandaged an invisible wound, her fingers brushing his wrist. When his alarm blared at dawn, he grabbed his phone, heart racing. The park’s number flashed onscreen—he’d lied about “checking in with maintenance” to get her contact info. Now, staring at her digits, he rehearsed a dozen ways to say *“I can’t stop thinking about you”* without sounding deranged. But what if she’d already moved on? Or worse—what if she hadn’t?
