"Sorry if I startled you," he said. "I was in the backyard trying to see if there'd be room to build a half-pipe. Then I discovered I'd locked myself out. I was just coming around to try the front door." He leaned his skateboard against a porch-type wicker chair. The skateboard's deck was red with designs of fire-breathing dragons.
"It didn't look like anyone was home," I explained. "We were about to leave."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't." He moved a little closer. "My name's Cam. We just moved in today."
"She already knows that!" Angie exclaimed. I had all I could do to keep from hitting her.
"Hey, Cam." I could feel my face growing hot, but by then I was finally starting to gather my senses. "I'm Jessica Williams. This is my little sis, Angie. We live in the house across the street."
"Jessica. I like that . . . Do they ever call you Jessie?"
"Uh, well sure. I mean, some of my friends do." I could feel Angie fidgeting next to me, and I prayed she wouldn't say something stupid again. Cam actually seemed interested in me.
He twisted the brass doorknob and shook his head. "Locked too. Oh, well! Guess I can camp on the front porch till my folks get home." He looked down at my flyers. "So if you're not selling cookies, then what do you want?"
"Angie and I are campaigning for my dad. He's running for mayor." I handed him a flyer.
He stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans. "Mayor, huh? Sure, I'll be happy to recommend him to my folks." His gaze met mine. "Have you lived in Preston long?"
"All my life. But I plan to get out first chance I can. I'm sick of this small town."
He broke into a grin. "I hope you're not telling that to everyone. It doesn't exactly sound cool if you really want your dad to win."
"I know, I know." Already I'd messed up. It was obvious I hadn't impressed him yet.
"Hey, maybe you need a little help with this campaign. I'm not exactly the student body president type, but at least we could talk and that might make the time go faster. Besides, I've got to find something to do till I can get back into the house."
"Great idea!" I bit my lip, hoping I hadn't appeared too eager. You might not think this is so cool if you knew how my dad feels about skateboarders.
"We don't need you to come along," my sister chimed in. "We're doing perfectly fine, thank you."
"Angie, don't be rude! Cam can help if he'd like to. Besides, he's locked out of the house," I added pointedly.
"Why can't he climb in through the bathroom window like you always do?" she shot back.
Disgusted, I darted her another look, but Cam only laughed. "I've already tried that. Bathroom window's locked too. But if you don't want me to come with you . . ."
"Oh, we do!" I said. "Besides, it'll give you a chance to check out your new neighborhood."
As we walked down the steps back onto the sidewalk, Cam tucked his skateboard under his arm. "I've already met some dudes who live a few blocks away," he said.
"The skaters who came to your house?"
His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he said nothing.
"I saw them while I was outside washing the car today," I explained. My face grew hotter by the second, and I silently prayed he couldn't see me blushing. Somehow, this conversation wasn't going right.
"Yeah. You must mean Pete and Andy. On our way into town this morning while we stopped to gas up, I saw them skating behind the service station and went over to talk with them. I told them where I live." A pleased expression crossed his face "Guess they didn't waste any time looking me up."
We started down the street, Angie trailing close behind.
"Where's your family?" I asked.
"Jessie, that's none of our business," Angie put in airily.
"My folks went out to pick up a pizza and a few groceries." He chuckled. "Mom says I won't be fit to live with till there's food in the house."
In the gathering dusk, the branches of the maple tree above us stirred and cast shadows onto the sidewalk. Thank goodness, we still had a few blocks to go until we came to the part of town Angie and I hadn't already canvassed. That would give Cam and me some time to talk before I had to get back to business.
"You're a cool skater," I told Cam. "I couldn't help noticing when I was outside this afternoon." Of course I didn't tell him I'd also been watching him from my bedroom window before that.
He pushed back a strand of hair from his forehead. "Thanks. Maybe you already know this, but there's a skateboard shop in Portland, New World Skates. I'm going to check it out and see if they can use some weekend help."
"You'd be perfect for a job like that," Angie said.
I struggled to hold back my growing exasperation with her. Although Angie's comments were innocent enough, I couldn't help feeling she was trying to come between Cam and me.
He stopped walking for a moment and winked at her. "Well! I'll even tell the boss you said so."
"It must've been terrible having to move," I said. "Especially to a small town like ours." Again, I didn't want to let on how a lot of people in Preston felt about skaters. "Where'd you come from?"
"California. Santa Cruz."
"Hey, that's near Disneyland!" Angie put in. "We went to Disneyland a long time ago, didn't we Jessie?"
I swatted her playfully. "You got that all wrong, silly! Santa Cruz is about three hundred miles from Disneyland."
I turned to Cam. "But my sister's right. Going to Disneyland has been our one-and-only trip outside of Oregon so far."
He smiled, showing the dimple in the cleft of his chin. He was even cuter than when I'd first seen him from a distance. We moved aside to let a couple of joggers pass by.
"Do you miss California?" I asked.
"Yeah, sometimes. We've moved a lot though. My dad's the type who likes to climb the corporate ladder. 'Gotta go where the opportunities are,' he always says."
I thought about the white Mercedes and the dark blue Porsche. Obviously, Cam's dad hadn't missed a beat.
"So his current opportunity is in Preston?" I asked, confused as to how that could be.
"No, he got a job at a software company in Portland. But when we were looking for a place to live, my folks decided they liked Preston, especially since it's on the route to the coast."
I nodded. "It sounds like you've been all over." We stopped at a crosswalk and waited for a red sports car to roar by.
"Almost all over," he answered. "Some kids hate having to change schools so often, but I don't." For the next several minutes, he talked about his exciting past—skating the upper hills in Hawaii, doing freestyles for slalom races in Santa Cruz, snowboarding down mountain slopes in Colorado.
"You're so lucky," Angie said.
"I second that," I put in. My gaze swept our street of old homes fronted by tree-lined sidewalks. I couldn't help wondering if it looked dull to Cam after everything he'd known before.
"Why didn't you look at the campaign flyer?" my sister asked.
"Angie!" I shrieked. "Cam can read it whenever he wants to!"
He held up a hand and chuckled. "Hold on, you two!" He fished the flyer out of his pocket and read aloud the bold faced print: "Arthur Williams, dentist, community leader, and father of two, pledges his unfaltering dedication to every man, woman, and child in the town of Preston—" He broke off. "Hey, Jessie, why did your father stamp these flyers with a butterfly in the corner?"
I snickered. "Oh, he didn't."
"Well, somebody did!"
Angie giggled, but remained quiet.
"Uh...yeah, it was me," I said. "But I only stamped a few. I never thought you'd get one of them."
"So what do butterflies have to do with his campaign?"
I hesitated, biting my lip. Could Cam really understand my hopes and dreams? Hopefully he wouldn't laugh like some of my friends did when I told him what that butterfly symbol meant to me. Inhaling deeply, I proceeded with my story.
"I like your style," Cam said after I'd finished. "Most girls are too wrapped up in hairstyles and c
lothes to think about stuff like that."
A little thrill raced through me as I smiled up at him. "I like your style, too, Cam." For the next few minutes, we ambled along in comfortable silence. It was a wonderful feeling just knowing that Cam accepted me the way I was. I'd never thought I'd find a guy who did.
When we were safely out of my neighborhood where people weren't as likely to recognize me, I said, "I'm dying to see you skate again. Show us what you can do."
He flashed me a high voltage smile. "You mean that? You really want to see me skate?"
"Absolutely!"
"Yeah, Cam! Show us what you can do," Angie echoed.
"Okay then. Here goes!" He flipped his board onto the cement, sprinted after it, and leaped on, accelerating with a few hard kicks. Then he jumped high, spun in mid-air, and landed back on the pavement like a pro. The clacking of his wheels grew louder as he skated back to us.
"Wow!" I exclaimed. "I'd give anything to do that."
"Maybe someday you can. That is, if you're willing to work at it."
"Hey, Cam! Watch this!" Angie started turning cartwheels on the lawn.
"Ignore her," I muttered to him under my breath. "It works every time."
He laughed. "I think your little sister's trying to upstage me. Maybe she's the one who should be learning how to skate!"
"Do you have a little sister?" I asked, hoping he'd understand.
"No, my folks decided one kid was enough." He flipped up one end of his skateboard, catching it in his hand. "Besides, we move around too much."
"But you don't mind moving," I pointed out. "Maybe if you'd had brothers and sisters, they wouldn't either."
He shrugged. "Possibly, but I doubt it. Most kids I know hate to move. I guess I'm different."
Silently I agreed. He was different all right—in more ways than he probably realized—and it was driving me crazy.
For the next hour or so, we walked from one block to the next passing out the flyers. As we came to each house, Cam stayed on the sidewalk while Angie and I talked to the people who answered the door. It was working out pretty well. So far, no one had appeared to notice Cam's skateboard, so I felt relieved that I wasn't ruining Dad's campaign.
By then it was almost totally dark, so we decided we'd better head home. Crickets chirped from the overgrown grass in an empty lot. Glittering stars studded the dark blue sky. As we wandered down the street, taking in the heavenly smells of someone's roses, Cam's hand brushed against mine. Too bad Angie was tagging behind us.
It was a perfect night for romance.
Chapter Three
"Hey, Jessie! Wait up!" Megan's voice sounded above the after-school clamor in the hallway at Preston High.
I glanced over my shoulder. "Hurry! I don't have much time." I was making a bee-line for my locker before meeting Cam at his. Things were going better than ever. All week he'd met me before school by the courtyard fountain to walk me to first period. We often ate lunch together in the cafeteria too.
"You planning to run a marathon or something?" my friend asked. She was wearing her maroon shorts and matching T-shirt, the official dress for the girls' volleyball team.
"Maybe I am," I answered mysteriously. I glanced towards the end of the wing where Cam and his friends were talking and added, "The finishing line is at the end of the hall."
"What are you talking about?" She narrowed her gaze and frowned.
I figured it was time to break the news. Megan had been out of school most of the week with the flu, so she hadn't seen Cam and me walking around school together. For some odd reason, the news hadn't leaked out to her.
"See that guy with the blond hair, black jeans, and red high-tops standing at the end of the hall?"
"Sure. What about him?"
"That's my new neighbor!" Megan waited while I twirled my combination lock and yanked the locker door open.
"Not bad!" she breathed. "Have you met him yet?"
"Uh-huh. Last Saturday while I was passing out campaign brochures for Dad." I went on to explain about our meetings at the fountain and how really terrific I felt when I was with him.
"No wonder you didn't want to go to the mall," Megan said. "You had it planned all along, didn't you? About meeting him, I mean."
"Mmmm, how'd you guess?" I dug through the clutter on the locker floor and pulled out my green vinyl-covered notebook, the one with my favorite butterfly design.
"What's his name?"
"Cam. Cam Easton. He and his family moved up from California."
"I think I've seen him around," she said. "He's got the same lunch period as I do. But that's not all. Last week after school one day, I noticed Mr. Crosham, that guy from the hardware store, chasing him and his buddies out of the parking lot. They were trying to skateboard there."
"Doesn't surprise me. The skaters don't stand a chance in this town." I sighed. "But Cam...I think he's gonna turn things around here."
"How so?"
"He's almost a pro skater. There's something about him. Something sort of worldly, you know? Maybe it's because he's moved around, lived in lots of different places."
"So has Joel Ramsey. He's an army brat."
"Yeah, but Joel's not with it like Cam is. Cam knows what he wants in life and where he's going."
She pushed a lock of auburn hair behind her ear and quirked an eyebrow. "Out chasing butterflies again, huh Jessie?"
I hugged my notebook more tightly against my chest. I didn't want Megan to see the butterfly design on the cover nor my assignment papers with my butterfly-inscribed signature. Though I knew she'd seen them dozens of times before, I wasn't in the mood that day to be teased.
"Maybe you should look for some adventure in your life too," I said. "Especially if it means meeting someone exciting like Cam." Someday, fifty years later when my friends woke up and found themselves still stuck in the same old place, they'd be sorry.
"Okay, okay." Megan threw up her hands in defeat. "Sorry I mentioned it."
Streams of kids swept past us, and the noise level was becoming higher by the second.
I brushed off her words with a knowing smile. "Actually, besides Cam being the cutest, most exciting guy I've ever met, I've got a good reason for wanting to talk to him again."
"What?"
"I'm going to ask him to teach me to skate!"
"Jessie, are you crazy? Your folks will disown you for sure. You know how caught up in public images they are right now." My best friend knew my parents nearly as well as I did. For them, my becoming a skater would be the death of Dad's campaign.
"I don't care. Cam's worth the risk." Besides, it's time this town woke up and recognized the skaters for what they really are!" I fumed. "They're not muggers, druggies, or punk gang members like everyone seems to think. They're simply a bunch of kids who love skating and want a safe place to do it."
I jerked my head back towards Cam's locker. He was gone! Leaving my friend with her mouth gaping, I spun on my heel and shot down the hallway to catch up with him.
* * *
"Ou-whee-ouch!" I yelped. I blinked hard, wondering why it never occurred to me that cement was so hard. Thank goodness, I'd landed smack dab on my bottom where I had a little cushioning. The thrashed-up skateboard Cam had loaned me lay upside down about three feet away, wheels spinning. Now that Saturday had arrived and there was no one around Preston High, Cam agreed to let me join him and his skating buddies there.
"Hold on, Jessie! I'm coming," Cam called. He'd been leaning against one of the pillars in the school courtyard, watching my progress.
I groped to stand up. Feeling like a klutz, I vowed out loud, "I'll learn to do it—even if it takes me a hundred years." I looked down at the palms of my hands. They smarted from where I'd caught myself on the pavement, and one of them was bleeding. I remembered thinking when I was a little girl that every time I skinned my knee, I was being punished for something bad I'd done. Though I'd long outgrown that idea, I reflected guiltily about my leaving the house with
Cam that morning and telling my parents he was going to teach me to skate. Actually, they were nicer about it than I'd expected, but I knew beneath their even expressions, they wondered what had come over me.
Cam clasped my shoulders, his gaze meeting mine. "Are you okay?"
"Sure. But you never told me skating was like this," I grumbled, shivering against the autumn chill.
Shakily, I dusted off my jeans and shrugged. The blood was starting to trickle down my wrist.
"Let me look at your hand," he said.
"It's nothing that a little Bactine won't take care of."
He pulled out a wad of Kleenex from his back pocket and then took my hand in his. As he dabbed at my abrasion, I wanted to melt. So far, it was the closest we'd come to holding hands. Suddenly I no longer felt the pain.
His brows knit together in a frown. "Your first battle scar. Well, it looks pretty clean. But you'd better soak it when you get home."
"Good thing your board's already thrashed up," I apologized. I picked up the chipped, well-used skateboard, examining it for new damage.
"No sweat," he said, grinning. "That board's seen a lot worse crashes than the one you just took." He gave my hand a quick squeeze. "Know something, Jessie?"
"Umm, what?"
"I think I like you." A thrill coursed through me. Though it seemed Cam and I had come from two opposite planets, I sensed we had a lot in common. My feelings for him were growing stronger by the minute. He kept holding my hand even after Pete and Andy and the rest of the skaters crowded around us. It was worth it having fallen and crashed.
Pete punched me playfully in the ribs. "Hey, Jessica. Slow down! You trying to burn up the pavement or something?"
"Go easy on her, dude," Cam said. I thought I'd detected a hint of jealousy in his voice. "At least she's trying."
I attempted to pull off a joke about my crash landing, but I was still feeling stupid about it. At least the guys in Cam's crowd accepted me.
As Cam turned back to me, a concerned expression shadowed his face. "You're sure you still want to do this?"
Skateboard Blues Page 2
