Page 9 of Pippin & Nacho

Before I skated off, Stix pulled me aside.

He was Sam’s height, and his ears glittered with so many studs and earrings. Stix also had a fresh tattoo of a stone rolling away on his arm. He’d explained that it represented Stone, who he called ‘Rolling Stone.’ The tat was kind of stupid-looking, but I loved the sentimentality behind it.

“Wait up,” he said. He didn’t have his board, so I assumed he wasn’t about to skate with me.

“What’s up?”

“So, how are things between you and Pippin?”

I shrugged and kept walking. “Fine.” But I knew what he was asking. Stix always pushed me to tell Sam about how I felt.

“Look, I’m here for you, okay? You really helped me with Stone a while back, and I just want to return the favor. Even if you just need to talk.”

God, I wanted to really dive in about how I was feeling and why I hadn’t told Sam after all these years that I loved him, but it wasn’t only my story. Sam kept his past a secret out of shame, blaming himself for the most part, and not wanting our friends to view him differently or pity him. I needed to respect that.

“Thanks.”

Before I skated off, Stix grabbed my arm. “Come on. I know you need to talk. We all do.”

“Learn that in group therapy with Stone, did we?” I asked to tease and divert the subject off of me.

He smirked. “Yeah, who knew I’d need therapy, too? It’s been useful and eye-opening.”

If I could get Sam into that free group therapy, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

“It is what it is,” I finally said.

“One thing I’ve learned is the truth either eventually comes out or the lie will do irreparable harm.”

No doubt not telling Sam how my feelings for him took its toll on me. A little piece of me chipped away at my silence. What if he didn’t like me the same way? My feelings would be out in the open, creating a permanent divide between us. It would change our dynamic, and not necessarily for the better. I could be wrong, and he may like me back, but I didn’t know that for sure, especially since Sam hadn’t given me any indication of interest. Ugh, then again, I’d never dated before, so I didn’t always understand the nuances of it. Maybe I was missing the signs.

“I know,” I finally said, dropped my board on the concrete, and pushed off as I made my way toward a half-pipe. Once I reached the top on one side, I did a drop-in, picking up speed before reaching the other side, where I stalled before dropping in again. Eventually, I had enough speed for handplants, boardslides, and catching air on the lip of the half-pipe.

The day was cold through my hoodie, but after skating for a few minutes, I grew warmer. Soon, my mind blanked out as I focused only on skating and making that trick I aimed for without having to bail.

Shortly after, Sam came over to skate with me. I smiled, loving that we could do this together. I would skate on one end, he would skate on the other, and then we would meet in the middle and touch, which always sent zings through my body.

Soon our skating turned into a little competition, trying to outdo each other on our tricks. But on Sam’s last turn, he did a handplant and overcompensated, reaching too far out from the platform.

It all happened almost in slow motion as I watched Sam from the other side tumble down and land hard on his board. Why didn’t he kick it away? This was what happened when you didn’t bail properly.

Sam cried out, holding his knee. That’s when I saw all the blood.

Fuck!

I jumped off the platform and straight down to him.

“Sam!”

Tears from the pain streamed down his face, grimacing as I tried to pry his fingers off his leg.

“Let me look.”

“No! Fuck, it hurts!”

“I need to look.”

I finally managed to get his hands off his leg and saw the ripped jeans and all the blood. There was a huge gash just below the kneecap with a flap of skin, and it was streaming blood, so I yanked off my hoodie and used it to stem the blood.

---