The Villains Must Win-Chapter 127: Reid Graves 7

"Are you okay, Tabitha?" Gwendolyn asked, her voice laced with concern.

Tabitha forced a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Y-yeah. I’m just . . . not feeling too great all of a sudden."

Reid, ever the scientist, observed her like she was an experiment gone wrong. "That usually happens to first-time members. They don’t come back the next day. I wonder why though."

"Yeah. I wonder why too," Tabitha muttered, sarcastically, slumping forward like a deflated balloon.

Gwendolyn leaned closer, her big, doll-like eyes filled with worry. "Can you go home on your own? Where do you live? I can take you there."

Tabitha blinked, her brain too fried to process the offer. For a second, she imagined getting princess-carried by Gwendolyn like some tragic heroine in a romance novel.

That might actually be nice.

Then her gaze flickered to Reid, who was watching her with mild curiosity, like he was waiting to see if she’d collapse on the spot.

"I can walk," Tabitha insisted, straightening up with the last scraps of her dignity. "Probably."

"Well, if you do pass out, let us know. I’d like to record the effects of prolonged exposure to theoretical physics on an untrained brain," he told her.

Tabitha scowled. "Gee, thanks, Doc."

With one last dramatic sigh, she gathered herself and stumbled toward the door, swearing under her breath.

If she survived this, she was definitely making Reid suffer for it later.

Tabitha dragged her feet along the sidewalk, feeling like she had just survived an academic war zone. Her brain was still swimming in numbers and equations, and every step felt like she was wading through molasses.

The late afternoon breeze was a small mercy, cooling her burning cheeks. She was just about to mentally curse Reid for the fiftieth time when suddenly—

Ring-ring.

A bicycle bell.

Tabitha turned her head, only to see Reid rolling up beside her on the saddest, skinniest excuse of a bicycle she had ever seen. The thing looked like it would crumble under a stiff wind, and yet there he was, riding it like some nerdy knight on a two-wheeled steed.

Reid pushed his glasses up with one hand and spoke, his tone dry and matter-of-fact. "Gwen said you didn’t look good, so she asked me to offer you a ride home."

Tabitha narrowed her eyes. "How generous of her."

"She wanted to take you home herself, but she remembered she had to get back quickly," he continued. "So, hop on."

Tabitha’s gaze drifted down to the bicycle again. The tires looked like spaghetti noodles, the frame was laughably thin, and the entire thing wobbled under Reid’s weight alone.

Her skeptical stare moved back to Reid, who, to be fair, wasn’t much better. The guy was tall, sure, but his build was more lanky scholar than athletic warrior.

". . . Are you sure I can fit on that thing?" she asked bluntly. "And more importantly, can you pedal with my weight? With those skinny legs of yours?"

Reid huffed, clearly offended. "Don’t underestimate me. I’m still a man."

Tabitha arched a brow. "Uh-huh. And?"

Reid adjusted his glasses dramatically, the light catching the lenses just right, making him look like a scientist about to drop the greatest mathematical proof of all time.

"My lower limb muscles operate on an optimal efficiency ratio," he began, tone serious. "You see, cycling relies primarily on the quadriceps, hamstrings, and gluteal muscles—of which mine are in peak condition due to years of walking at precisely 1.4 meters per second, the scientifically determined most energy-efficient human walking speed."

Tabitha blinked. "What."

Reid was already in full lecture mode. He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing in equations. "Force, as you know, is defined by Newton’s Second Law: F = ma—force equals mass times acceleration. If we account for friction, air resistance, and the rolling resistance coefficient of my bicycle’s wheels, then—"

Tabitha made a time-out gesture. "Nerd, I literally just asked if you could pedal."

Reid ignored her completely, now drawing imaginary graphs in the air. "Furthermore, my power output can be estimated using the formula P = Fv, where P is power, F is force, and v is velocity. Given that the average person generates around 150 watts of power while cycling, and considering my mass-to-power ratio, it’s safe to assume that—"

Tabitha waved a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Einstein, can you or can you not move the bike with me on it?"

Reid sniffed. "Based on theoretical projections and a controlled environment—yes."

Tabitha eyed the thin bicycle frame, then his equally thin legs. "And in reality?"

". . . Let’s test it," Reid said, far too confident.

Tabitha folded her arms, still unconvinced. "A man with toothpick legs."

"I have efficient legs," he corrected, adjusting his glasses. "Built for speed and precision, not brute force."

Tabitha snorted. "Uh-huh. Sure, buddy."

Still, despite every warning sign screaming at her that this was a terrible idea, she sighed and climbed onto the back of the bike.

The moment she sat down, the bicycle let out a worrying creak.

". . . Did the bike just whimper?" Tabitha asked, blinking.

"It’s fine," Reid said through clenched teeth.

He pushed off, attempting to pedal forward.

It was a mistake.

The bike barely moved an inch before the sheer force of Tabitha’s weight pulled it—and Reid—straight back down. The front wheel lifted into the air like a rearing horse, and for one horrifying second, Reid looked like a cartoon character struggling against the laws of physics.

"I—I’ve got this!" he grunted, sweat already forming on his brow as he tried to press down on the pedals.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

Veins popped on his forehead. His legs trembled. The bicycle wobbled like it was about to give up on life entirely.

Tabitha watched in amusement as Reid’s entire existence became a battle against gravity.

"Anytime now, Lance Armstrong," she quipped.

Reid inhaled sharply and put all his strength into one desperate push.

For a brief, shining moment, the bike moved forward—two whole inches.

Then, with a dramatic wheeze, Reid completely collapsed onto the handlebars, his arms dangling like wet noodles. His glasses slid down his nose, his breath came in ragged gasps, and his entire body was already trembling with exhaustion.

And that’s how they ended up with Reid nearly passing out from exhaustion, the bicycle barely moving, and Tabitha howling in laughter as all his scientific theories collapsed faster than his ability to pedal.

Tabitha then blinked down at him.

". . . You good?"

Reid, still facedown on the handlebars, barely managed a response. "No."

"Thought so."

Silence stretched between them as Reid lay there, defeated. Then, finally, he groaned and rasped out,

"Switch."

A victorious grin spread across Tabitha’s face. "Thought you’d never ask."

With that, they swapped places. Tabitha took the driver’s seat, cracking her knuckles like a professional racer about to take on the final lap. Reid, still recovering, slumped onto the back seat with the grace of a dying cat.

"Hold on tight," Tabitha warned, smirking.

Reid barely lifted his head. "I don’t think I have the energy to—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Tabitha took off like a rocket.

The bicycle shot forward with a force that defied all logic, Reid screaming as he clung onto her for dear life.

"W-WHAT THE HELL—?!?"

Tabitha laughed maniacally, pedaling with a speed that should have been illegal.

The wind howled past them. Streetlights blurred. Pedestrians leaped out of their way as Tabitha weaved through the roads like a speed demon possessed.

"This isn’t biking! THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER!" Reid shrieked.

"Quit whining! You said this thing was built for speed, right?"

"NOT LIKE THIS!"

Tabitha grinned wildly, the sheer thrill of speed taking over. Meanwhile, Reid had gone completely stiff behind her, clutching her waist like his life depended on it (which, at this rate, it probably did).

By the time they finally skidded to a dramatic stop in front of Tabitha’s house, Reid was pale, his glasses askew, and his entire body locked in a terrified, frozen state.

Tabitha hopped off the bike, stretching like nothing happened. "That was fun. We should do this again."

Reid said nothing. He simply slid off the bicycle and crumpled onto the ground like a man who had just seen his life flash before his eyes.

". . . Reid?"

Still nothing.

Tabitha nudged him with her foot.

He twitched.

". . . Never again," he whispered hoarsely.

Tabitha laughed, patted his head, and walked toward her house.

"You know," Tabitha said, grinning while Reid wheezed, hands on his knees, gasping for air. "This might not be the most romantic ride I’ve ever had, but I have to admit, I enjoyed it. You’re not so bad, genius."

Reid, still struggling to catch his breath, shot her a glare. "Not so bad? I nearly died. My lungs have collapsed. My legs have turned to jelly. I think I saw my ancestors calling me to the afterlife."

Tabitha giggled, stretching her arms behind her head. "And yet, here you are, still standing. Barely."

Reid groaned, pushing up his glasses with a trembling hand. "This wasn’t a ride—it was a physics experiment gone horribly wrong."

Tabitha only laughed. "Goodnight, speed racer," she teased before heading inside, leaving a broken, traumatized Reid lying limp on her front yard.