Phoebe rolls up and gives him a fierce grin. She looks directly at me and winks, and then takes two pedal strokes before dropping in, down a nearly vertical fifteen-foot wooden cliff. She pumps her arms as she hits the top of the first massive jump, pushes the bike high into the air, and whips the back end out from under her for a split second, before coming onto it just as she touches down on the other side of the jump. On the second roller, as she goes airborne she keeps her feet on the pedals, but shoots her arms out like she’s Superman midflight. And when she hits the last one and jumps, she kicks out her legs straight behind her, then brings them back down, smoothly hits the bottom of the jump, and pops onto the deck. She smiles and casually sits down as the guy whose name just got called stares at her with his mouth hanging open.
The crowd goes completely and totally wild. I glance over to the stands. Tía Maria is covering her eyes, Tío Carlos is standing and screaming, and their sign that had my name has been flipped and Phoebe’s name is in huge letters.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to do jumps like that.
Jen nudges me.
“I know you decided it was all in your head, but are you positive your cousin doesn’t have superpowers?” she asks, looking completely, deadly serious.
I can’t believe how good Phoebe was—I had no idea she could ride like that. I also can’t believe that I’m waiting to be called up to the podium.
Superhero Tip: It’s good to have a mentor like Phoebe, who can teach you how to do cool stuff…and is still doing cool stuff on her own. Basically, find someone you want to be when you grow up, and try to make them teach you whatever they can.
Now the top five finishers are all standing on the stage, so I’m huddled with Jen (who has since fixed her hair and added lip gloss, and looks ridiculously cool, as usual), and Ali, who is flanked by her brothers and grinning from ear to ear as they keep telling her how great she did. I’m just kicking the ground, writing this, and waiting for it to be over while Phoebe is huddled talking to the promoters, judges, and Matt. I know how strange it looks that I’m sitting here writing while the other kids who did well are playing on their phones or posing for pictures with their friends, but, hey, this is how I stay calm. Even superheroes need a security blanket, and this journal is mine. Right now the idea of standing in front of people seems terrifying. What if I fall over? It could happen.
Klutzy forever,
Lindsay
(I guess not entirely true after today!)
CHAPTER 30
Phoebe hops up onto the stage gracefully, microphone in hand, smiling at me as if urging me to calm down a little. After the applause for her finally dies down, she introduces the event, adding that next year, she’s going to make sure that the girls have their own race—and the judges all are standing to the side, smiling and nodding in agreement.
“People sometimes ask why girls need their own race—why not just make them compete with the boys?” she says. “But that’s not fair to the girls and women who ride. We’re built different; we have different strengths and different limitations. While racing all as one group might seem equal, it’s not equitable. We want three women on a podium, three men on a separate one. We want girls to see someone who looks like them standing on the top step.”
Judging by the applause and cheers she’s getting as she talks, I don’t think she’s going to have much of a fight on her hands.
“I admit, we didn’t seem to need it today, but it seems like it’s only fair that the boys have a chance to get on the podium too!” she adds. The crowd laughs, and I can tell Phoebe is psyched that she didn’t get booed for the sentiment. All the boys and parents seem to be pretty in favor of a girls’ race—and I don’t think it’s just because the boys are bummed to get beaten by girls. We pretty clearly showed them that girls are at the park, ready to race—at any level. Hopefully, next competition, we’ll have even more beginner girls, in our own category that we deserve because we’re showing up.
Phoebe starts calling the top five riders in the beginner category, starting with Jen in fifth place. She walks up a little sheepishly but breaks into a huge smile once Phoebe puts a medal around her neck. Steve, one of the quiet guys who’s always there practicing—and whom I’ve seen chatting with Phoebe a few times—gets called up next in fourth. Then it’s my turn.
“Lindsay isn’t just a great rider—she and her friends were real-life superheroes today,” Phoebe says, instead of just calling my name. “And I couldn’t be more proud of my cousin.”
When I walk to the podium, she grabs me in a big hug, the crowd is cheering, and I’m blinking back tears. She puts the medal around my neck, and I hop onto the third-place spot.
As Phoebe hands second—Ali!—and first place their medals, Penguin pops his head out of the backpack at Phoebe’s feet and puts his paws in the air, begging for snacks. “You should probably follow his lead,” Phoebe laughs, and all of us on the stage raise our arms up.
I’ve never won anything before, and my arms are definitely not used to this position, but I think I could get comfortable here. I look over, and Ali still looks slightly stunned to be in second place, while Jen happily and graciously waves at the crowd like she’s done this a hundred times before (which she probably has).
“Can we get a photo of just the girls?” one photographer in the crowd shouts, and the guys leave the podium as the three of us crowd onto one step. Jen and I flank Ali, and we all join hands. I’m not surprised that Ali is as sweaty as I am; she seems just as nervous. Our arms go up, and we’re all smiling like we’ll never stop.
“This group of girls is going to go far,” Matt says into the microphone. “And I’m so glad I can say that they got their start here at Joyride.”
After we’ve walked down and joined the crowd, I get another surprise for the day. As I’m standing next to my bike and admiring my medal, someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and register blond hair, jean shorts, and a purple tank top, but it takes me a second before I realize that it’s Dana, the coolest girl in my school, standing there.
“Hey, Lindsay,” she says, smiling.
“Umm, hi—what are you doing at a bike park?” I ask, completely confused and a little more abrupt than was probably polite. But then again, she’s never spoken to me before, and we’ve been in school together since first grade.
“My brother competed,” she says, pointing at a guy who’s deep in conversation with a few other riders. “I saw your jumps too—you were so cool!”
Hold on a second. Did the coolest girl in school just say I was cool? Did I jump into an alternate reality when I took that last run?
“Thanks,” I manage to say back. (So smooth!)
“Maybe you could teach me how to ride in here sometime?” she asks, seeming completely sincere. “I didn’t know other girls rode here. I just figured it was all guys.”
While part of me wants to tell her absolutely not, and the Shred Girls are an exclusive club, and we don’t need any other girls to join, I know that’s not the right answer. That’s a supervillain-level answer. I look over at Phoebe, talking with Ali and Jen, and I realize that Shred Girls shouldn’t just be the three of us.
“Sure,” I find myself saying. “Give me your number and I’ll text you when we’re going to be here next. We’ll get you riding better than your brother.”
She laughs. “I would love that,” she says, and grabs my phone and programs her number in. Her brother is waving at her, so she says goodbye and heads out, but only after she makes me promise that I will text.
Maybe this whole making-friends thing isn’t so tough after all.
After all the drama, it feels like we’re having an epilogue to a really intense action-adventure movie. Which, come to think of it, was sort of what I’ve been waiting for this whole time. It’s been a big day—and it’s pretty sweet that all of us ha
ve medals to show for it. Phoebe won her category by a huge margin, so there will be a gold frame in her apartment, and maybe I can even borrow it sometime. You know, for motivational purposes.
Superhero Tip: Batman will probably never loan out the Batmobile, but a girl can dream.
Tío Carlos and Tía Maria both couldn’t stop talking about how proud they were, and Tía Maria called my parents, who were shrieking so loud with excitement that I had to hold the phone at arm’s length for a full thirty seconds. Phoebe was even more thrilled, since Tío Carlos told her he supposed her little BMX bike was just as good as a road bike…and admitted that he never won a trophy quite as cool as this frame. But now they’re gone and the party room is rocking, with Phoebe’s band playing a set at the front of the room, pizza still being served (thankfully!), and everyone laughing and talking, showing off tricks on their bikes, wheelie-ing around, and, off their bikes, dancing. I’m sitting in a corner, taking it all in, and breathing for a second.
Epically yours,
Lindsay
(I like it!)
CHAPTER 31
Dave walks toward me, a slice of pizza in each hand. He grins and moves to give me a high five, but catches himself when the pizza threatens to fall off the plate. He offers me the plate ruefully instead.
He brought me pizza?
“Do you want to dance?” he asks abruptly, and tosses his half-eaten pizza into the trash, just barely making it in. He’s a BMXer and not a basketball player for a reason, I guess.
I’m standing there, not sure what to do, since he just handed me a slice of pizza. I’m not really sure how to dance while I hold it at the same time. Is this really how the movie ends? Suddenly, it’s gone from action-adventure to comedy, and I’m feeling really silly. Dave seems to notice, so he takes the pizza back from me, which is an infinitely weirder move.
He sets it down on the table. “Now do you want to dance?” he asks, and I nod. Normally, I would be terrified (boys! dancing!), but after today’s adventure with the stolen bike and then in the competition, this seems tame by comparison. I can see Jen and Ali in the corner of my eye, dancing away on the floor and going a little crazy. He grabs my hand and pulls me over toward the band, and I catch Phoebe’s eye. Her face breaks out in a huge grin, and she gives me a quick thumbs-up between guitar plucks.
As we get on the floor, the song they’re playing ends, but Phoebe keeps smiling as she mouths something to the singer. “We’re going to slow it down a little for this next song,” she says before they burst into a funky, faster version of a cheesy Frank Sinatra song that I know my parents love dancing to, and Dave grabs my hand and pulls me to the middle of the floor. Next to me, Ali and Jen are dancing together and checking out a few of Dave’s friends, who seem to be having an eating contest in the corner. A lot of the other kids from the race today are bopping around, pretending they know how to waltz. Dave pulls me into a clumsy dance move and steps on my foot, but manages to get his one hand on my waist.
“I don’t know how to waltz,” he yells over the music.
“I can see that,” I yell back, but I can’t stop smiling. “Want to try salsa?” Finally, those moves my mom made me practice as a kid are paying off, and we rock somewhat in time with the beat. We’re not great, but at least Dave can shuffle along with my moves. (Phoebe nods approvingly from the stage—her mom made her take the same lessons, so she knows what I’m up to.)
Now it’s a proper movie ending. Even when the song is over, he keeps holding my hand, and I see Jen and Ali looking over and whispering to each other. But I’m paying way more attention to Dave.
“Did I mention that you did awesome today?” he asks.
“You did, a few times,” I reply. “But you can say it again if you want.”
Look at that, I made it through a full sentence—and it was actually almost witty!
“Well, you did awesome,” he says. “Want to eat that pizza?”
“Absolutely.” I smile wide, and he keeps my hand in his as we walk back toward the tables.
Transmission from the girls’ locker room: success! I didn’t break Dave’s feet, ankles, or other appendages. And I think he actually liked dancing with me! Fantastic!
Superhero Tip: Thank your parents for dance lessons you hated as a kid. As a superhero, you may be called on to be agile or blend in at a salsa club at a moment’s notice.
Yayyyyyyyy,
Lindsay
(Definitely, positively no.)
CHAPTER 32
Thankfully, it’s a little quieter now that the band has decided to take a break. Dave and I sit down at one of the tables so I can eat my now stone-cold slice of pepperoni pizza. Luckily, I prefer it cooled off, so, really, that dance party worked in more ways than one.
As we’re sitting, I realize we’ve been talking for twenty minutes and I haven’t once run out of things to say, gotten shy, or forgotten my own name. We’re just…talking.
Phoebe walks up with a guy in tow.
“Dave, I see you’ve met Phoebe’s cousin,” the mystery man says.
Phoebe’s cheeks are bright red, and she’s wearing a sweet smile that I’ve never seen before. “Lindsay, this is Ben—my boyfriend.”
“And you already know my brother, Dave,” Ben says, sticking out a hand for me to shake. Wait—Phoebe is dating Dave’s brother? And he’s cute too. He looks like an older version of Dave, with shorter dark brown hair and big brown eyes, and he’s wearing a button-down flannel in black and gray with streaks of teal, with black jeans. He puts his arm around Phoebe’s waist, and the two of them just look at us, grinning like my parents did when I left for school for the first time. No wonder she knew so much about Dave!
But I guess it’s okay, since I realize I’m looking at Phoebe the same way, even though Dave’s arm isn’t around me (sigh). I had no idea she had a boyfriend, and that he’d be so, well, regular. I was expecting someone…more pierced. He does have a lot of scars on his hands, but I’m guessing that’s from crashing his bike, not from terrorizing puppies or whatever it is supervillains do.
“You did great today,” he says, looking right at me. I feel a little like a deer in headlights, but I recover enough to mumble a quick thanks. Then he turns to Phoebe and shocks me even more. “Do you think Lindsay, Ali, and Jen could come train at my gym sometime? I’d love to test them.”
Test us for what? Superpowers?
But I realize that he must mean our riding. And while that would have bummed me out a few weeks ago, today I’m excited by the idea of him testing our riding skills. “It won’t be as much fun as riding around here,” he adds. “You’d be on stationary bikes and we’d do some work with weights, but it’ll get you even better at riding when you are here. You’re good enough that you should be adding in stuff other than practicing the exact same jumps all the time.”
“That would be cool,” I say, trying to act casual. Jen and Ali pop up behind my shoulder too, having walked over at the sound of their names.
“You want to coach us?” Ali asks eagerly, looking like she wants to record him saying it, probably to play back to her brothers. One is over in the corner talking to another girl who was in the contest. I assume he’s giving her some pointers, but I somehow doubt he’s being very helpful. The others seem to be going through as much pizza as they can.
“Well, Phoebe will still be coaching your technical skills here—no one is better than her,” Ben says, smiling a little sappily at my cousin. “But yeah, I’d handle the more fitness-based side of things.”
“I’ll have to talk to my other coach, but that sounds kind of cool,” Jen says. I know she just wants to brag that she has another coach, and I don’t blame her.
The more I spend time with her, the more I realize that she’s insecure and maybe even a little scared. Well, maybe she’s not th
at scared of me. But she’s definitely scared of something.
“We’ll talk about it more later,” Ben says.
“Then we’re going to go dance!” Jen says, and grabs me with one hand and Ali with the other, dragging us back to the kids still dancing in the corner. I jump around with Ali while Jen tries to show off some dance moves, but she eventually gives up once she sees that her swaying arms and intricate moves are scaring off the boys. She joins in with us instead, bouncing around, smiling and laughing.
Dave and I dance a few more times, and I’m still marveling at the fact that his brother is going to be my coach and is dating my cousin. Talk about weird coincidences!
By the end of the party, I’m practically falling asleep on my backpack, but Ali, Jen, Dave, and a couple of his friends are sitting in the corner with me, making big plans and talking about competitions that they’d love to do. There’s one out on the West Coast that sounds epic, and I can’t wait to get home and start researching what we should do next.
Ali’s brothers haven’t left the party either, and every time it quiets down, they interrupt each other to tell stories about crazy jump lines they’ve ridden. They seem a little full of themselves, but they do sound like fun. I can see why Ali gets so nervous about living up to what they’ve done—from what they say, they’ve raced all around the world, been on TV and in magazines, and toured with a big team. If I were Ali, I’d be intimidated by them too.
But it gets late fast—it’s been a long day, and soon we’re the only ones left other than Matt, who’s been trying to clean up pizza boxes and soda cans for the last hour. Before we head out, we help him drag the recycling bins outside, and he hugs Phoebe and thanks all of us before stumbling back into the building. I bet he sleeps on his desk tonight.
Lindsay's Joyride Page 15
