and sits up straighter. “You like it?” She starts listing off ingredients, only half of which I’ve heard of.
“Maybe you can write that all down so I can remember. Not that I’d know where to find some of that stuff in a grocery store,” I add. “My smoothies are usually bananas that are about to rot, any frozen fruit I can scrounge in the freezer which may or may not taste good with a banana, yogurt and juice or milk. I had no idea smoothies could taste this good.” I’m trying not to chug the rest of it down in one gulp and savor each sip, but damn, this is heaven.
“Hey, save some for me.” Beck plops down next to me and reaches for my smoothie.
“No way. I’m not sharing this thing.”
He starts to pout but Lennon pushes the other glass on the table his way. “I already had one, this one’s for you, Beck.”
Beck, who loves to cook, is just as impressed, and once the two of them get talking on ingredients and food, I ask for Lennon’s phone so I can see the videos. She’s right, we do look good skating together. Beck’s a stronger skater than me of course, but somehow I still look better next to him than I do on my own. Could be the happy glow vibrating off me, or the way we keep glancing at each other, smiling, laughing, stealing kisses. I replay a short video of me doing a 540. But this time I watch Beck. Yeah, it’s nothing about me that makes me look better with him, it’s simply the way Beck is around me. He stops what he’s doing whenever I try a trick, and the way he watches with a little reverence? Damn, that’s hot. It’s the same way I’m certain I look at him, and it does something to me to know it’s reciprocated.
Lennon’s ready to hit the park again and she offers to send me the videos. “I’m actually excited to post something for once,” I admit. It still feels like a chore, but I’m finally getting the hang of this skateboarding social media thing.
Beck takes my hand as Lennon skates away. “You want to keep skating here?”
We’re surrounded by some of the world’s coolest skate parks, and I’ve hit up nearly all of them. But it’s hard to resist this private one. It’s also hard to resist this guy drawing circles on my palm with his thumb.
“Yeah, I think with that smoothie in me I can really go for a 720 now.” It’s a trick I’ve only heard of one girl landing ever. It seems aerial turns are easier for kids to hit because they’re smaller, and so far the only female to land a 720 wasn’t even in her teens yet.
Beck’s thumb-circling stops and he freezes with his smoothie halfway to his mouth. “You want to try for a 720?”
I shift in my chair. “I guess I’ve never talked about it with you, or anyone. But yeah, of course as soon as I landed a 540 I started thinking about what’s next.”
Beck puts down his drink and leans forward, his hand slipping from mine as he places his elbows on the table. “When did you first land a 540, anyway?”
“A couple months before I started college.”
Beck nods. “Yeah, you had it down by the time we met, didn’t you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fall trying a McTwist, now that I think about it.”
A McTwist is just another word for a backside 540.
I shrug and lean back in my chair. “Well, it’s my best trick.”
“And it hasn’t been a challenge for you now for over a year,” Beck adds. “I get why you want to go for a 720 next,” he concedes.
“But?” I prompt, knowing where he’s going.
“But it’s dangerous as hell. Your back is to the landing for a long time, two circles. It took me weeks of hard crashes before I landed my first 720. Griff never landed one and gave up after breaking his ribs.”
“Griff’s style is street, not vert. Besides, he’s a foot taller than me.”
Beck’s actually landed a 900 too, and for a dude over six feet tall, that’s quite the feat.
Beck runs a hand over his hair, disheveled from the helmet he took off a moment ago. His eyes meet mine. “How would you feel about watching me try a 1080?”
I can’t stop the wince that hits. “Yeah, that would be painful.”
I’ve seen Beck fall plenty of