Page 17 of Composed
“I’m not playing the name game to score higher than your soon-to-wife’s sister on a bridal party list. Being head bridesmaid is good enough for me. Thank you very much.”
“Fine.” She pouts, stomping her foot like a child. “But there’s a story here. And you’re going to tell me it.”
“I will.”Just not today.Two sharp raps sound on the door and I glance at my watch and grin. “Oh, would you look at that? Twelve o’clock on the dot.”
I pull the door open and start for the stairs as Talia glares at the poor electrician standing there.
I give her a thumbs up. “You’re good here, right?”
“Hendrix!”
I dart up the stairs with a laugh. “Lots to do. Love you, bye!”
The moon sits high in the sky, cutting a silver glow through branches as I roll my skateboard across the concrete.
I finish my hot chocolate, cheap polystyrene searing my icy fingertips before I toss the empty cup into the bin and kick my board up.
It’s been a while since I’ve ridden. Too busy focusing on the studio, building my portfolio. Adulthood tends to do that. Puts a pause on childhood hobbies while you search for fulfilment.
I climb up the half-pipe and hoist myself onto the ledge. Kicking my legs, I glance over the empty park.
The quiet is a reminder.
Life moves on, and with it, everything changes.
Kids used to hang around here, day in and day out. Music blasting from a speaker, wheels clinking against metal, excitement filled chatter echoing around. It’s different now.
Teenagers have everything they need in the palm of their hand. Their friends, their social life. All of it freely available at the tap of a finger against a glass screen.
Laying down, I stare up at the starless sky and drag my fingers along the chilled metal. A sharp breath cuts through the air as I trace the engraved initials. It was a rite of passage for regulars at the ramp to carve their names into the metal.
Goosebumps flicker over my skin, hand trembling when I reach the one I’m searching for.
CH & HM
Metal jagged under my fingertips, a hissed breath escapes me as I catch on a sharp groove, and I close my eyes.
I was only fourteen—Cole fifteen—when we took Carter’s pocketknife to this ramp. It was the first time I’d seen him here, and it was that same day I knew I was gonna fall in love with him.
Chapter six
Hendrix • Then
Heaven Is A Halfpipe – OPM
Fourteen Years Old
Thecrispechoofglass shattering against a wall follows me up the stairs.
I slip through the open door of my bedroom before sliding it shut behind me.
Even with the heavy slab of wood between us, my mum’s heaving sobs reach my bedroom. I walk over to the window as my dad slides into the driver’s seat of his old Prius.
The engine roars to life, headlights flood the dark road, and tyres hiss as he tears away from the curb.
My parents have never had a good relationship—they argue every day, and have done for as long as I can remember. My dad's drinking, my mum's need to always have him around. I wouldn't call any of it healthy.
But since moving to Chesterton for my dad’s new job, things have somehow gotten worse.
