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My head wasn’t on straight and my board flew out from under my feet, sending me spilling on my ass. The wind knocked from my lungs on impact, and I rolled on my side, attempting to catch my breath.
Yael’s red Chucks stopped next to my face, then she bent over me, her hand on my shoulder.
“Are you dead?” Her soft, worried tone betrayed her.
“Yeah,” I panted. “You the angel they sent down to collect me?”
She shoved my shoulder, and I rolled onto my back, breathing a lungful of fresh, New York air. She sat down beside me and absently brushed the hair off my forehead.
“You seem like you’ll live.” Her tone was still soft and almost sweet. “Don’t make me worry over you, Alex. I don’t like it.”
“I fall all the time. It’s no big deal. But I don’t mind you worrying over me.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched like they always did when she wanted to smile, but then remembered she didn’t like me enough to give me that kind of reaction.
Her long fingers reached out and tugged my T-shirt, urging me to sit up. I only complied because it appeared she had something to say and I wanted to listen.
“The night of your grandpa’s funeral.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned her chin on her fist. “Moses told me not to mess with you that night. He said you were too sad for my nonsense and I should stay away.”
My skin felt like it had turned inside out and every particle of dust and debris in the air landed on the raw surface, zapping and burning.
“You didn’t stay away,” I said.
“I know.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “I should have listened to my brother.”
Another bomb dropped, she unfolded herself from the ground, and without a glance back, walked as gracefully as she always did on her mile-long legs right out of the plaza, leaving me sitting on the ground with a spinning head and an aching ass.
