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I stare at her, silent and unblinking. Then, finally, I lean forward and kiss her shoulder. “Your perfection is overwhelming.”
She laughs a little and places her hands behind my neck before leaning back. “When did you know?”
“Know you were perfect? The first time I saw you step out of your grams’ car—”
“No.” She smiles. “I mean, when did you know you were in love with skating?”
I release a heavy breath, feeling the weight shift and tighten in my chest. I look back up at her; past the frown on her lips, the freckles on her nose to her eyes—waiting for me to give her a piece of me. “I was fifteen,” I tell her. “I’d snuck out of the house while my parents were asleep and went to the skate park. There was no one there, just me and the moon and the stars. I was there for hours, fooling around, excited that I had the place to myself. I didn’t do anything special, or miraculous or land some epic trick or anything. I was just skating for the sake of skating. And I remember standing on edge of the coping, my foot on the tail of the board and just breathing in the night air, and I looked around me with nothing but ramps and posts and my private concrete playground.” I laugh once, remembering the moment. “My mom texted me and it said ‘Don’t wake your dad when you come home. Leave your board in the garage.’ She knew where I was and what I was doing past midnight on a school night and she didn’t really care. I leaned my weight at the front of the board and flew down the pipe. I promised myself I’d only be a few more minutes, but the minutes turned to hours and when the sun started to come up I knew I had to go home. So, I attempted one more trick and I got to end of the pipe and my board left me and I was in the air and the sun was this perfect orange coming up from the horizon and I think that’s when it happened. While I was in the air, my board somewhere beneath me and the wind surrounding me and I just… it was a split second, you know? But in that moment, I had no fears… nothing holding back. Just the sun rising letting me know there was a new a day. A clear future. And it was that feeling I fell in love with. Being weightless and free. Being airborne.”
“Airborne?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Airborne.”
She returns my nod, her mouth slightly parted and her eyes right on mine. She starts to speak, but cuts herself off. This happens twice before she finally says, “Have you heard of SK8F8?”
“Of course I have. Why?”
“You know there’s a comp in a few months. It’s open registration.”
I sigh, frustrated, and lean back on my arms, my head tilted back, my eyes focused on the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “I know the heartache you associate with skating and I’m being insensitive. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Yep.”
“It’s just that you said yourself that you want to know if you’re any good. And you have the chance to do that. Josh…” She cups my face and makes me look at her. “It just breaks my heart to hear you talk about something with so much passion and love and know that you feel like you can’t have it. Who’s to say you can’t? It’s different now, right? Tommy’s older and you have me and Grams and your aunt and uncle. Why not try? Why not see if you’re good enough?”
“Becca…” I warn.
“I know. I’ll shut up.”
“Good.”
“Just one more thing. I promise,” she rushes out, her eyes wide. “When Tommy’s older and he somehow finds out about your skating— because he will—what are you going to tell him? That he’s the reason you quit? I mean the fact that you’re going to have to admit you’re a quitter is one thing, but then you’re going to make him feel guilty that it’s his fault.” She cringes as soon as the last word leaves her.
“Are you trying to guilt me?” I ask, unable to contain my smile.
She shrugs. “Is it working?”
I stare at her, right into her emerald eyes, and my heart has never felt so full of promise. “Fine.”
She covers her squeal—or at least her version of a squeal—with her hand. “Because I guilted you into it?”
“No.” I move beneath her to get more comfortable. “Because you asked me and I’m pretty sure I’d do absolutely anything you asked.” I grasp her waist and shift her higher slightly. She’s still in my shirt and I’m still shirtless and she looks… she looks like Becca. Perfect.
“Thank you, Josh. I know it doesn’t really involve me but I feel like I’m part of it.”
“Of course it involves you, Becca. You’re giving me the courage to coast.” I lean in and kiss her softly. “Thank you for caring about me. And I’m sorry for not telling you about Natalie’s parents. I should have. I’m just dumb with stuff like that.”
“You’re not dumb. Stop it. It’s not like it changes anything.”
“I never thought I’d find someone like you. Someone who’d put up with me having a son and wanting to be part of both our lives. Why do you do it, Becca?” I ask, my heart pounding against my chest.
“Because, Josh. You and Tommy…” She places my hand over her heart. “…you own me in here.” And even as I feel her heart beat against my palm, I wonder if she knows that she just made mine stop.
All my words anchor somewhere between my heart and my throat. Maybe it’s because deep down, I know nothing I can ever tell her will be worthy of how I feel—that even though she thought my love and my passion were skating—she has it wrong.
