by Dean, Ali
I’m able to take a breath when he turns to Taylor. “Sly, what’s she talking about?”
“The video I posted on Instagram. You know, the hot chick who did a 540 and then skated away like a total boss. This is her. Jordan Slattery. What’s your deal, man?”
Yes, what is your deal?
“So you’ve resorted to posting videos of random girls to get their attention? I’m not impressed, dude. Not surprised, either.” Beck shakes his head, emphasizing his disapproval.
“Did you hear what I said?” Taylor’s voice rises as he switches from playful and joking to confrontational. “She did a 540. It’s not about getting girls, asshole, it’s about giving a shout-out to a badass skater.”
My spine straightens at that. I should be applauding, maybe thanking him, but I’m too on edge. I can’t decipher what’s real here. Is Taylor playing some game or am I only skeptical of him because Beck doesn’t seem to be giving him any respect?
Before Beck can respond or this little exchange between them can escalate, I find my voice again. “Yeah, why did you post that video anyway?” He might not be at the level of Beck but he’s obviously got a huge following with the number of likes and comments I saw on that video. I can only imagine he runs his page like a business, deciding what to post based on sponsors, brand, image, all the stuff that makes me not want to go down that road in the first place. I mean, what if I was wearing shoes or riding a board that competes with his sponsors? Would he get in trouble for that?
“Uh, because you did a 540 and you ride a skateboard like a pro. But I didn’t recognize you, so I didn’t think you were actually a pro. I was curious, and thought the rest of the skateboard world might be too.”
I sigh. “It’s fine. Whatever. Women don’t get enough recognition so it’s cool to see a guy with a following placing value on a girl skateboarding, I guess.” I don’t know why, but I feel kind of bad for Taylor, like it’s my role to protect him from Beck getting all bent out of shape.
Both guys are looking at me now, Taylor with a soft smile on his lips and Beck with a confused frown.
I need to get out of here. There’s tension rolling off Beck, and from just that short exchange I sense a frenemy relationship between these dudes that I don’t want to get in the middle of.
“Listen, I’ve got to run. I’ll see you guys around.” I flash a tight-lipped smile that probably looks like a grimace and skate off. It’s awkward as hell, but all my instincts are yelling to go. Well, maybe not all of them. Before I turn the corner to the dorms I glance behind me. Neither of them is looking at me. Beck is in Taylor’s face, making me wonder if I imagined the easy-going guy I met the other day.
Chapter Ten
Beck
“You posted a video of a random chick without her knowledge? That’s low, Taylor.”
“Whoa man, why do you even care? It’s not like she was upset. She said so herself.” He gestures in the direction Jordan left.
My chest burns in anger. “You’ve got what? Hundreds of thousands of people following you? Didn’t it occur to you some people might not want their privacy ripped away like that?”
From the moment I heard Taylor call her name and rush over to her like an eager puppy, I saw red. It hasn’t faded.
“She did a 540, man. At a crowded park. You and Griff were there, which meant people had their phones out. Pretty sure she was asking for it.”
This guy has said so many dumb things in the years I’ve known him. I usually make myself walk away. This time, he’s crossed the line. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the words themselves and how easily they could translate to a more serious violation. Maybe it’s how damn oblivious the dude is, and that it’s finally time to knock some sense into him. Most likely, it’s that this time, it’s personal.
He doesn’t even realize that I know Jordan, and I’ve got no idea why my blood is pumping with a fierce protectiveness for a girl I met one time. But my arm swings, and my fist connects with Taylor’s jaw. He’s not expecting it, and his head snaps to the side with the force of the punch. Taylor stumbles back a few steps, confusion and shock written on his face.
I’ve never punched anyone in my life, and I don’t feel an ounce of remorse.
Chapter Eleven
Jordan
It burns when I think about the encounter with Beck on the quad, so I try not to. I don’t let myself wonder why I keep checking my phone, acting exactly like the people I said I didn’t want to become. When Ellie and Zora come over so we can job hunt from our laptops together, I’m grateful to have something to do. I don’t have any more homework, and my go-to activity when bored is watching skateboarding videos on YouTube, which doesn’t seem like a great idea right now.
“Okay, so we shouldn’t all apply to the same jobs. Jordan was right. We need to work at different places if we want to get time off at the same time,” Zora declares once we’re all seated on the twin beds in our dorm with our browsers open.
“But we’re only going to work part time anyway,” Ellie says. “It’d be so much more fun to work together,” she whines.
“Let’s compromise,” Lucy uses her diplomatic voice. “We’ll apply to jobs in pairs. I call Jordan.”
“What, no way! You already get to room with Jordan,” Zora argues.
“I should get Jordan,” Ellie says. “I’m the one with the worst roommate.”
“She is pretty scary,” Lucy agrees.
I shake my head. “I swear you guys just like to fight over stuff for the fun of it. I’m like your new toy and I don’t know how to feel about it.” This doesn’t mean they’ll get sick of me once I’m not so shiny and exciting, does it?
“Let’s just all apply to stuff and see what happens,” Lucy proposes, and no one argues with it.
We jump onto the job board search engines, and since none of us have cars on campus, we narrow the options down pretty quickly. Well, it seems to me we’ve narrowed it down but I shouldn’t be surprised when a discussion ensues about the pros and cons to every potential job. We’re only going to be working ten hours or so each week, but with the level of dissection involved, it’s as if we’re choosing our lifelong career. Lifeguarding has its perks but is too boring. Working someplace where the food is awesome is risky because we don’t want to gain the freshman fifteen, but then again it’s also a plus because we get free food. What are the chances of meeting hot guys at a busy coffee shop?
By the time we’ve actually submitted a few applications, I’ve only checked my phone once. No messages. I don’t know what I expect from him, an apology or explanation? He was so… weird. So different from the way he acted at the park. Or maybe I’m the weird one. Yeah, I’m probably the weirdo. With this new group of friends, I think I’m okay with that. Weird is better than boring, at least that seems to be the case for this group. And maybe that’s why we click. I love Phoebe and Wyatt, but for the first time in a long time I’m not a third wheel, and it feels amazing.
* * *
Beck
“What happened to Taylor’s face?” Griffin looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch with his laptop.
Taylor just slammed the door on his way out. The guy is twenty-two years old but sometimes he acts like my fifteen-year-old sister.
“He didn’t tell you?” I open the fridge and start grabbing what I need for stir fry.
“He said to ask you. Please tell me you finally punched the dumbass.”
“I finally punched the dumbass.”
“Wait, really?”
I glance over to see Griffin closing his laptop and getting up.
“Yep.”
Griff makes his way over to the kitchen island and gets comfortable on a stool. “You gonna tell me why or make me guess?”
Pulling out a cutting board, I focus on fixing dinner. “How many times have you wanted to punch him? Didn’t take much. I finally snapped, I guess.”
Griff snorts. “Right. I didn’t meet you yesterday, Beck.”
I’m
peeling carrots into the garbage disposal and remembering why I like to cook. Yeah, Griff and Taylor complain it takes too much time and effort, but for me the simple and repetitive tasks of peeling, chopping, mixing, and stirring are soothing. Therapeutic even. And I can also pretend like I’m only half listening to a conversation I don’t really want to dive into.
“So is this how it’s gonna be now?” I ask, not exactly subtle in my topic change. “You sitting here while I cook dinner every night?”
“Here, give me a carrot. I’ll chop it.”
I’ve watched him chop vegetables before. It’s excruciating. I hand him a cutting board and a single peeled carrot with a knife. The meal will be ready to eat by the time he finishes with that carrot, but maybe he’ll be too distracted to push me about my reasons for punching Taylor.
“So who’d he make some comment about? If it was one of our sisters I’ll take a swing at his other cheek.”
I turn off the faucet from washing snap peas and shake the colander while looking at my best friend of twenty years. Who am I kidding? He knows I wouldn’t take a swing at anyone, let alone our roommate, unless I had a very good reason. Taylor might act like a dumbass most of the time, but he steers clear of talking about our sisters.
“He posted some video of a girl skateboarding. A girl he didn’t know, had never met. She didn’t know he’d even taken the video, let alone posted it on his account.”
Griffin pauses mid-cut over the carrot. Mid-saw, more like it. I’ve given him a top of the line chopping knife and he’s sawing away like it’s a butter knife. He looks up, incredulous. “Wait, you punched him over that video? She did a 540, man. Did you see it?”
I put the colander to the side and cross my arms as I feel my blood pressure rising. “No. I haven’t seen it. He spotted the girl on the quad, shouted her name and ran after her like a little puppy. She’s a freshman.”
“So he figured out who she was?” Griff’s frowning now.
“Yeah man, he was hitting on her when I went over there to see what had him all worked up.”
“And that’s when you punched him?” Griff still hasn’t stopped frowning.
“No, it was after she left. I told him it was a violation of privacy to post a video like that, especially when he’s got like a hundred thousand followers or some shit.”
Griff puts down the knife and carrot. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I didn’t think of it like that. Most girls would be psyched for the shout-out.”
My temperature is rising. Jordan isn’t most girls. It wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t even have social media accounts. But I can’t punch my other roommate over this girl too.
“Her name’s Jordan. And she did say it was cool he gave a shoutout to a girl skateboarder, but I think she was just trying to appease him so she could get out of there.”
Griffin lets out a grunt and I decide he’s acting weird. But then I wonder if I’m not seeing shit clearly. I can’t seem to think straight when it comes to Jordan Slattery.
“Yeah well, when I pointed it out to Taylor he said she was asking for it.”
Griff watches me closely, and it takes a beat before I realize he’s waiting for me to continue. “That’s when I punched him.”
Griff blinks. He shakes his head, picks up the knife again, and goes back to sawing away at the poor carrot. When he remains silent, I open my mouth to call him out, demand his opinion. Does he think I overreacted? I never have to demand an opinion with Griff, he always just gives it to me straight. But he seems real fixated on the carrot and I don’t know if I want to hear his thoughts anyway. Instead, I turn on some music from my phone and go back to cooking.
The only satisfaction I have from that encounter on the quad is that Jordan didn’t seem the least bit responsive to Taylor’s interest in her. I know at some point I’ll see her again around campus. I just don’t know what I’ll do if I see her with another guy.
Chapter Twelve
Jordan
Griffin picks me up outside my dorm on Thursday morning. I tell myself not to compare him to Beck but I almost laugh when I see his car. It’s a BMW convertible, and the opposite of Beck’s Sprinter van. But I’ve never been in a convertible either, and I’m here for the new experiences, right?
“You’re a morning person, aren’t you?” Griffin side-eyes me as he pulls away from the dorms. It’s already 9 AM but there’s still sleep in his eyes.
“Yeah, I guess so. I never had much going on at night anyway. My parents didn’t even let me go to the skatepark at night until my senior year.”
“Wow. So, were you super sheltered? Is that why you don’t have social media?” He’s teasing me, but I don’t mind.
“They were a little over-protective. But I’m an only child so it’s fair. They didn’t smother me. Honestly, I didn’t love riding in our local park at night anyway.”
“Why not? Did you live in a sketchy area?”
“No, but there were a few assholes who were always at the park. They weren’t so bad during the day when there were kids and parents around, but at night they usually partied there.”
“Partied?”
“What, are you the one who’s sheltered? Don’t tell me you don’t know what partying means, Griffin Perry.” I’m still struggling not to call him by his full name.
“I know what partying means to me, what does it mean in your world, Jordan Slattery?” Everything that comes out of this guy’s mouth sounds flirty and playful. Suggestive.
“Drinking, smoking pot. By the time my parents were cool with me going there later at night, it was other drugs too. That’s not really my scene.” I don’t want to sound too self-righteous so I add, “If they were cool and nice it wouldn’t matter what they were doing, but they had no respect for anyone or anything to begin with so once they got fucked up…” I let him draw his own conclusions. Those guys didn’t bully me like they did Levi, but if no one else was around and they were high, I was fair game to be their plaything. I didn’t want to find out what that would be like. Phoebe and Wyatt had been there at night together a couple times and said it was a bad scene.
“We were at the skateparks at night in high school, but there wasn’t drinking or smoking. The kids who did that were only there to watch. I guess you could say we were the bullies, Beck and me.”
My head swivels to look at Griffin. “Bullies? You and Beckett Steele?”
“Yeah, you know Beck?”
My palms start to sweat and I wipe them on my jeans. “Uh, yes. I know him.”
“Oh yeah, of course you’ve heard of Beck. Even now I sometimes forget most skateboarders have heard of him. We grew up together like thirty minutes from Summerside U, and we spent every minute at the skateparks around here.”
I should correct him, mention that I’ve actually met Beck, but I justify my silence because he mentioned bullying, and it’s more important I understand what he meant. “You two were bullies?”
We’re at a red light and he looks over at me. “We didn’t like people riding when they were partying. That’s when injuries happen. The only reason everyone wanted to party at the skateparks in the first place was because me and Beck were there. It seemed like our responsibility to make sure people didn’t get hurt.”
My heart hammers in my chest and my voice sounds small when I say, “Yeah, that makes sense. That’s not bullying though.”
“We did it so we could keep coming back to the skateparks. If injuries started going down then cops would start coming by or they might shut off the lights or close down the parks at night. It was purely selfish.”
“Well, I wish I’d had you guys laying down the law around my park,” I admit as we pull onto the highway. The wind whipping around us makes it too loud to hear.
As I take in the sensation of going seventy miles per hour without a roof overhead, I wonder what it would have been like to go to high school with Griffin and Beck. Of course, then I remember I was eleven years old when they were seniors. And also that I have massive
crushes on both of them. Okay, a tiny one on Griffin and a massive one on Beck, if I’m honest here. I shouldn’t feel wrong about that though, should I? If anything, maybe it’s weirder that I haven’t crushed on multiple guys at once before this. It just so happens they’re best friends, but what girl wouldn’t want both of them?
We’re only on the interstate for a few minutes and as soon as we pull off I’m sitting up in my seat. “So you haven’t told me where we’re going.” I can’t hide my excitement and I try not to bounce out of my seat.
“It’s called Rampas.”
I press my lips together and glance over at him. He catches my eye at a red light. “What? Have you heard of it?”
“I’ve seen videos of you at this park,” I admit. “It looks like a playground for tricks.”
He isn’t fazed. “It’s exactly that. And we came early enough it shouldn’t be too busy. High school gets the day off for in-service, so there might be some kids around.”
I vaguely wonder how he knows this, but the park comes into view then. Sure enough, there are only a couple skateboarders. As we pull up, I notice that they’re girls. They look a few years younger than me, and they’re actually riding the rails. I don’t take my eyes off them as I open my door.
They’re both in itty bitty shorts and bikini tops. As I watch a girl with blonde hair land a backside boardslide, I know they’re the real deal. I feel Griffin standing beside me and when I glance over I see him cross his arms and shake his head. “Of course.”
He sounds a little disappointed. “What?”
I watch Griffin watch the girls for a beat, oblivious to my presence. He takes a couple steps forward and calls out, “Summer! Naomi! Where are your shirts?”
