The motorcycle rolls to a stop at my feet."Need a ride?" she asks."Uh, yeah. Didn't you see me flip off my bike and roll backwards down the hill, only to have my motorcycle follow me?""Yeah," she says. "Pretty pathetic. Where are you headed."I twist away, trying to hide my shame. My ankle twisted. My arm is broken and my back is all scraped up. I should ask her to take me to the hospital. Instead, I try the truth."I was on my way to motorcycle riding school."