by Claire Adams
He wants it so bad, though.
It’s good to see him where he’s more comfortable, though. He just makes everything look so strange, but achievable. It really is a sight to see.
Ian’s coming off a 5-0 grind with a shove it when I hear someone else calling my name from close by. I turn to find one of Ian’s friends—a guy about my age, maybe a year or two older with long blond hair, whose name I don’t readily recall at the moment—skating toward me.
“Hey,” he says, rubbing his open palm over his nearly bald head. “You’re Mia, right?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “I’ve seen you around.”
“I’m Rob,” he says. “I’m Ian’s friend.”
“Rob,” I respond. “All right, yeah, Ian’s told me about you.”
“He’s told me about you, too,” he says. “You must be one hell of a woman.”
I can feel my face growing hot. “Why do you say that?” I ask.
“You know, with Ian’s dad the way he is and all,” Rob says. “That can’t be too easy.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I tell him. “We seem to be hitting it off pretty well, though.”
“That’s good,” Rob says, and I take a moment to clap and cheer as Ian tre flips on the flat of the funbox, landing in a manual on the downward slope and riding it all the way out.
“Why am I getting the feeling you’re trying to tell me something?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Rob says. “Ian said you were smart, though.”
“So, what is it?” I ask, watching Ian get some speed and roll all the way up the vert ramp, planting his nose on the top and riding all the way down without any problem whatsoever. “I seriously don’t know what it is in his head that isn’t clicking, but he basically just did what’s been making him crash for who knows how long.”
“I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing,” Rob says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, but before he can answer, I’m shouting, “See, you got that, Ian!”
All right, now I’m starting to embarrass myself.
“Ian isn’t exactly in a position to go without his dad’s help right now,” Rob says. “I don’t know, maybe he’ll get his shit together by the competition, win the thing, and never have to worry about it again, but…” he trails off.
I really don’t know if he’s trying to be helpful or if he’s just trying to be a jerk, but I really wish he’d just say what he’s going to say.
“Well,” I tell Rob, “I know that Ian’s dad doesn’t necessarily think I’m right for his son, but he’ll come around.”
“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Rob asks.
“Tell me what?” I respond and finally turn to look at Rob.
“His dad cut him off last night,” Rob answers. “He called me right after it happened. I guess the old man’s giving him a week and then Ian’s gotta be outta the house. The guy’s smarter than he lets on and everything, but I don’t think he’s really cut out for a normal job, you know?”
“What do you mean his dad cut him off? He’s kicking Ian out of the house, too?” I ask.
Somewhere in the distance, there’s the loud slap of four hard wheels coming down together on concrete and a couple of people interject various non-lingual sounds of approval, and I just know it’s Ian bringing everyone back around to his side.
“Dad kicked him out of the house,” Rob says. “No more money for college, no more money for, well, anything, really.”
“This is because of me?” I ask.
“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Rob says. “Like I said, you must be one hell of a chick. Now, that boy doesn’t get his shit together and actually win that competition, he’s going to end up living in my basement, and you know what the worst part about that is?” he asks.
“What’s that?” I return.
“I don’t have a basement, so he’s going to end up sleeping on my couch, and you know, I’m more of a morning person, he’s more of a night person—I’m glad to have him and everything, ‘cause that’s probably what’s going to have to happen. I just hope we don’t end up killing each other,” he says.
“Well, at least he’s going to have a place to stay,” I tell Rob, who is definitely not just telling me this as a courtesy. “You’re a good friend.”
“Well, it’s not really decided as far as all that yet, exactly,” he says.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “I thought Ian wasn’t going to have anywhere else to go. I’d let him stay with me if I didn’t think my dad would have a conniption, the kind of which would likely yield a body count.”
“I was just giving you a glimpse into Christmas future,” Rob says. “His dad’s made the threat, but Ian’s still hanging in there by a thread. I just don’t want to see the guy’s life fall apart, you know?”
“The problem I’m having,” I tell Rob, “is that I’m not sure if you’re telling me this because it’s actually the truth or because you’ve got something against me. Have I done something to offend you?” I ask.
“No. We haven’t met, but you seem nice enough, and I know Ian’s got it out to about here for you,” Rob says and illustrates his meaning by holding his hand about a foot and a half straight out from his crotch.
“How romantic,” I say.
“Just, I don’t think it’s really that cool for someone he’s only known for a few weeks or however long the two of you have known each other to come in and try to make his life difficult, you know?” Rob asks. “Ian’s not meant to be just another skater bum until nobody invites him to competitions anymore. He’s smart. He’s got a lot of things he could do, but you’re just riding all in and putting yourself in the place of all that.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” I tell Rob.
“I know, I know,” he says, his palms up and facing me. “Like I said, I’ve only heard good things, but I’m just tellin’ you how it is. So, unless you’re really looking to stick it out and be there after his old man’s cut the cord, I think it might be better for both of you if you just called it a day.”
Hearing this from my dad is annoying. Hearing it from Ian’s dad is somewhat frightening. Hearing it from one of his friends, though, I don’t know that I can really keep ignoring what everyone except Ian and I are seeing.
“Hey,” Rob says, “You all right? I’m not trying to be a dick here. I’m just tellin’ you how it is.”
“Yeah,” I answer quietly and look away from Rob.
This isn’t right.
Ian and I have known each other for a few months, but as far as any relationship goes, it hasn’t even been a day. I can’t be the wrench in the gears of his life.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rob says. “You’re a pretty girl. I’m sure you’ll find someone else in no time.”
All right, now he’s just being a dick to be a dick.
I turn away from Rob in time to see Ian skating in this direction.
Rob’s on his board and skating away by the time Ian gets close. Ian says, “Hey,” to his friend, but Rob doesn’t answer.
I guess he’s leaving it up to me now.
“I’m feeling a lot better,” Ian says. “I think I just needed to let loose and just have a good run where I’m not worried about anything but pulling shit on my—”
“Hey, I’m sorry, but I really should be getting going,” I interrupt.
“What?” he asks. “Why? I thought we were hanging out.”
“It’s Abs,” I lie. “She’s having a thing with her brother and she needs an ear right now. I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, sure,” Ian says. “I hope everything’s all right.”
“Yeah, I’m sure everything’s going to be fine,” I tell him and only continue to pile on the lies from there. “This sort of thing happens between them from time to time. They’re super close and everything, but you know if you’re around anyone enough, you’re going to find a reason to argue and eventually, you’re going to need a little
bit of… time. Anyway,” I continue, feeling a little off-center in my existence at the moment, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right,” Ian says. “I’ll give you a call after I go home. I think I’m going to hang around here for a little bit and just skate, you know, get back into a positive headspace or whatever.”
“Okay,” I smile. “Bye.”
I walk away.
He doesn’t know anything’s wrong yet, but this is for the best.
Last night and every moment since, right up until Rob came over here and shattered the illusion, I’d done an excellent job of discounting my dad and his dad’s concerns as being the result of a sad sack, lonely guy being overprotective (my dad) and a real hemorrhoid of a person (that would be Ian’s dad) being a real hemorrhoid of a person, but Rob’s got no reason to come over here out of the blue, much less as he happened to have told me a slightly different version of the same story I’ve been hearing from the sad sack and the hemorrhoid.
I guess from here I just file my time with Ian into the fantasy section of my brain and go on with my life.
I just wish I could get this stupid sun out of my eyes, it’s really making them water.
For a while, I just walk around, but eventually I head home.
This is just going to be one of those vicious days that just never seems to end until it ends.
I’m walking in the door when my phone starts to ring.
I pull it out of my pocket and look at the caller.
It’s Ian.
As much as I wanted to spare him at the park, I can’t lead him on, either.
I answer the phone with the words, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” and I hang up.
It’s not the gentlest way to do it, but I’d rather have him think I’m just some crazy chick who doesn’t know who she wants than have him giving up the more concrete opportunities of his life.
I was really looking forward to being with him, though.
Chapter Twelve
Something about Women Being Crazy and Men Being Idiots
Ian
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” she says, and that’s it. She hangs up.
That’s supposed to be the end of the conversation, but I’m getting sick of the back and forth. We’ve just gotten to the point where we’re actually together and she’s scared, I know that’s all this is.
Why would she suddenly get so scared, though?
Things were great this morning and, despite my lackluster performance dropping in—something she should be more than used to by now, by the way—she was still in a positive mood before I left to skate around the park.
Maybe her friend said something.
I’m not entirely sure what it is, and I certainly haven’t spent enough time with Mia’s friend Abby to really get a solid read on her, but the chick gives me an uneasy feeling. That’s why I didn’t follow through making out with her that night at the party.
I guess I really shouldn’t be too shocked Abby is trying to get Mia away from me so she can take another run herself, but I really hoped she was a better friend to Mia than that.
Maybe it wasn’t Abby, though.
Things seemed to change at the park.
Maybe Mia was telling the truth and Abby had just called her, but as I look back, I don’t remember seeing Mia on her cellphone. I wasn’t really watching her the whole time, either, but what I do remember her doing was talking to Rob.
Rob and I have a strange history.
We’re about as different as two people can be when it comes to most things, but if it’s anything to do with skating, he and I are simpatico. He and I have had more arguments than me and anyone other than possibly my dad, but he is a good guy. I can’t imagine he’d try to blow up my relationship.
I think about it a little more, though, and some things start falling into place.
Mia seemed too somber for someone just going to help her friend blow off steam about a sibling. Siblings argue all the time. That’s part of being a sibling.
As an only child, I’m only working off what I’ve seen, but it doesn’t really compute as the sort of thing that would put that solemn look on Mia’s face.
Then there was the way Rob just skated off as I came up, even after I said, “Hey,” to him.
That’s got to be it: Rob said something.
I change course from skating toward Mia’s place to skating toward Rob’s.
Rob left the skate park after he talked to Mia, but that doesn’t mean he’s home. If he’s not, though, I guess I’ll just have to track the bastard down.
Fortunately for me, though, when I get to Rob’s door a long ride into his shitty neighborhood later, I don’t have to knock my knuckles bloody waiting for him to answer the door.
“Jesus!” he says, flinging open the door. “You don’t have to pound the fucking thing down. Shit!”
“What’d you say to Mia?” I ask.
In the back of my mind, I think I had it pretty well mapped out that I was going to start off willing to listen and only go hostile if he gave me a reason to, but yeah. That’s out the window.
“Calm down, bro,” he says. “Want a beer?”
“What’d you say to her?” I ask. “We just started getting past the fucking hard-to-get thing, and when I just called her a little while ago, the only thing she had to say to me was that it was over. You talked to her at the skate park. What the fuck did you say?”
“Relax, man,” he says. “I started off by telling her you’d told me good things. I was very copasthetic.”
“Copacetic,” I correct, “not that that’s even the right fucking word. What else did you tell her?”
“I told her some of what you told me last night, man,” he says. “I thought you’d told her he was an inch from cutting you off. I wasn’t rude or anything, I just wanted to make sure she was willing to actually stick with you through shit if and when pops took back his check book.”
“That wasn’t your call to make,” I tell him. “You should have talked to me about it if you were that worried.”
“I’ve tried, but to be fair, you have been a bit of a self-important dickfuck recently,” Rob says.
“I’m really not in the mood, Rob,” I tell him. “I want you to get on the phone and take back whatever the fuck it is you said to Mia to get her so freaked out. It wasn’t your fucking business talking to her about that shit anyway.”
“Dude, I don’t know if you know this,” Rob says, “but you’ve got your head up your ass, and I don’t just mean about your girly there. Saw you at the park still adding to the scars and bruises—I admire the get up and fucking go, but let’s be real, man. You don’t have your shit together and that bitch was just going to screw your fucking head until—”
I’ve never punched someone in the face before now, and I have to tell you, it hurts a lot more than the movies would have you think.
My head’s suddenly in a different position and it’s a couple of seconds before it really dawns on me that Rob just hit me back. With that realization comes the pain of the impact and the fucking urge for greater revenge, so I smash him across the face again with a left and then with a right.
I manage to get him off balance, and I take the opportunity to put every fucking drop of my righteous indignation into a hard right hand into his stupid, talk-too-much mouth.
He falls backward, but just as quickly is back on his feet, telling me to get the fuck off his porch.
“You know what, man?” I ask, grabbing him by the shirt. “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?”
“I was trying to do you a fucking favor,” Rob says. “She was having you humiliate yourself up there and we both know you’re never going to be ready for that stupid fucking competition—not with her at the wheel anyway.”
“You’re a real piece of shit,” I repeat.
“Get the fuck off my porch,” he repeats and, there being no other business to attend at the moment, I put m
y middle finger about an inch from his swollen, stupid fucking face and I walk away, picking up my board as I come down the steps. “Yeah,” Rob says behind me, “you’re a real badass, starting a fight with someone who’s just trying to look after you, you fucking prick!”
I just keep walking. If I don’t, there’s a real possibility that next time it’s not going to be my fist smashing into his face, it’s going to be the trucks of my fucking skateboard, and I can really see the consequences of that getting a little out of hand.
By the time I get back home, I’m more pissed than ever and the pain of Rob’s repeated blows to my beautiful, beautiful face is starting to sink in.
I just hope dad’s not home.
That hope is quickly dashed as I open the front door and walk into the living room to find him sitting on the couch, reading a book.
“What the hell happened to you?” dad asks, putting down his book and getting to his feet.
“I got in a bit of a fight,” I tell him. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?!” dad responds, already screaming. “That is it, Ian. I have had enough. I have tried to help you, I’ve tried to support you, I’ve given you every opportunity and still, after I’ve talked to you endlessly about this nowhere lifestyle of yours, you just keep going back. Well, enough is enough.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I don’t think you’re ever going to take me seriously until I follow through, and I think the time for me to do that is right now, this moment,” he says. “Ian, I want you to find somewhere else to live.”
“Oh, fuck off, dad,” I tell him. “Mia broke up with me. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“She did this to you?” he asks.
“No,” I sigh. “She didn’t do this to me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says, starting to pace in front of me. “This is not how you were raised, and I’m not going to support you so long as you’re doing what you’re doing. It’s great the girl finally came to her senses, but until you’ve not only given up the girl, but the board and that whole lifestyle, I think it’s best that you see what it’s like out there on your own for a little while.”
