Page 31 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“I want to cuff it around my stitches so I don’t wreck ’em.”
She shrugs. “You’ve got a bandage over them.”
“James, don’t be annoying. I wanna blow off some steam. I also don’t want to draw my parents’ attention.”
As she pulls at the velcro straps, she sniggers, “Are you admitting you can’t do that flip without it ending in blood splatters?”
I roll my eyes and take the elbow pad from her. “Quit it. I just want my car, okay?”
She nods. “I want your car, too. Even if I do get my licence, there’s not a chance I could afford a car.”
I strap the pad above my elbow to maximize the coverage over my stitches. It’s not comfortable, and it’s already throwing off my balance. Yet, it’s better than listening to Mom saying, “I told you so,” if I bust these stitches within twenty-four hours of getting them.
I take it easy when I first push off, getting a feel for the distracting weight on my arm. I then take it up a notch with an ollie, and then build up speed with one of the smaller ramps. When I get to the edge, I stall my skateboard by tapping the nose of the board, and then I spin the skateboard around. Listening to the distinct scrapes and slides of my skateboard, I loosen up.
Okay, got this.
I board over to the halfpipe. I take one dive, letting the air pull my T-shirt back. When I reach the other side, I give a little hop off my board and hang in the air. Listening for my board, I meet it, coming back down the ramp and to the other side.
“I thought you were gonna take it easy today,” Tyler calls out, resting his board on the halfpipe’s edge.
“I am,” I call back, gliding back down the halfpipe’s incline.
This time when I reach the other side, I crouch to reach the board and flick it up for more air. It’s almost a one-eighty view, but the board wobbles in my grip. I overcorrect and hit the bottom of the ramp with a thud.
“Dude, you good?” Tyler calls out.
I land on the side of my sneaker, and a jolt of lightning shoots up to my knee. I kick the board away and fix my balance. I bounce my weight on both knees and nothing feels broken.
I throw a thumb up in the air. “I’m good.”
“Good, then get out of the way,” Tyler says, and I move just as he whooshes past me.
I step onto the back of my board and flick it back under my foot.
“What was that?” Jamie asks, stopping by the halfpipe. “You can do better than that.”
“Sue me. It’s your stupid pad throwing me off.”
She smirks. “Then hand it back.”
I stick my tongue out. “No way. I’ll prove I can do it with it on.”
She rolls her eyes. “Dude, you’re such a sore loser.”
I push off on my skateboard, and the pain in my knee inflames. Dang it. Not what I need right now.
Come on, Kai. Walk it off.
I board around the ramp and dodge the rails. I keep the skateboard moving, keeping my knees bent, hoping to push past the pain. The last thing I need is a limp. For one, my mom will cancel my driving test. For two, my coach will bench me.
Not happening.
I pop the board under me, determined to prove I can get air and not hurt myself. I land on the board and only grunt slightly.
Good enough.
I board back over to the ramp and don’t wait for Tyler to reach the edge. I bolt down the ramp and fly up with speed. I grab onto the ramp’s edge with my good arm, and grab onto my board with my other. With my core engaged, my bent legs fly above my head. The elbow pad twists around my bicep, doing nothing to help me out. Ugh, I should’ve just thrown it back at Jamie.
