Page 9 of Liar & Champion
I perched on the cement block with the board propped before I took a deep breath and then kicked off. It was perfect from launch to landing, filled in the middle with absolute freedom and loft, the glorious sensation that pain couldn’t touch.
I came down in a tight spin next to the champion and kicked the skateboard up, flipping it so Bosko could catch it. I didn’t look at him, I was smiling at the champion, because he was smiling at me, and it was the nicest thing, just smiling together like we had a grand conspiracy. He’d never doubted that I’d land it, not for a second.
Bosko shook his hand out. Maybe I had kicked the board a little too hard. “Are you coming to the bowl this afternoon?”
Did that sound fun? It actually did, even if Beastie wouldn’t be there. I turned to face Bossy, breaking my happy moment with Mr. Honey. “Can’t. I’ve got class. Does sound fun, though. Kick it for me, yeah? Later.” I waved at Bosko and Bea and headed up the stairs, trying not to notice the champion keeping up with me.
“I’m Nix,” he said, holding out a hand.
I patted it and then went back to gripping my back pack. “Sunny, but you probably heard that already. What brings you to APU? I’m pretty sure I’d have noticed you if you’d been here before. Are you a new teacher?”
He grinned so nice and easy. Most people don’t smile that comfortably with complete strangers. It takes time to warm up, but he was born warm. “Yeah, I’m new, but not a teacher. I didn’t go to college out of high school, so it’s catching up to me. How long have you been on a skateboard?”
“At one time?” I asked teasingly. “Seriously, it was my bonding thing with my dad so I don’t remember a time I didn’t have some kind of board. I have a whole photo album of me on boards. How about you? You do any kind of riding? You caughtit like you knew what you were doing. Most people would have jammed a few fingers.”
He glanced down at his strong hands. “I’ve done a little boarding in my time.”
“’In my time?’ You sound like an old man. You don’t look that old.”
He laughed. “Thanks, Kitten. You do look that young, too young to be going to college.”
“I have a youthful air and an indomitable optimism, but how can I help it? Just look at that sun!”
“Actually, don’t, or you’ll be blinded. You’re a little like that, Kitten, blindingly sunshiny.”
“My name is Sunny, not Kitten,” I said, frowning at him. “That sounds almost sexist.”
“Male kittens are still called kittens.”
“Hm. I guess I could call you a nag, you know, old horse. That wouldn’t be sexist.”
“I am not a horse, but maybe I am that old. I just turned thirty, although being in this place with all you young’uns, I’m going to feel every inch my age.”
I patted his arm. “Hang in there. Higher education is a very valuable thing. They tell us every year at orientation, if you go to that kind of thing. It’s that way,” I said, pointing in the correct direction.
“Thank you. I appreciate your guidance.” He patted my hand, like because I’d touched him that gave him the right to touch me.
I braced for the usual pain, but his touch was so featherlight, so teasingly gentle, I was left with a shiver and a jerk in my chest that I’d never felt before. Had I ever been touched without it hurting? I couldn’t remember. No one else knew to be gentle with me other than Beastie, and he didn’t touch me. I touched him, and he put up with it, carrying me around when I wantedhim to, but he didn’t ever reciprocate. If he ever jumped on my back, he’d break me.
The champion, Nix, left me with one last smile before he headed in the direction of freshman orientation leaving me staring after him and feeling all kinds of things I didn’t have time for, but made me wish I had more time, that life wasn’t so short.
Chapter Five
CHAMPION
If all the debs were half as delightful as Sunshine Rae Wilson, I’d have a hard time picking just one. A nag? Me? It made me grin too familiarly at a young skinny kid with acne who dropped his books at being the target of so much attention. He’d been bullied in the near-recent past and was worried about a repeat.
“Is there a self-defense club here?” I asked him.
His eyes widened behind his thick glasses. “I don’t know. I’m a freshman.”
“If there isn’t, we should make one. Self-defense is an important thing to know, not only for women who have lower body weight and therefore are more vulnerable, but also to anyone who wants more confidence.” I slung my arm over his bony shoulder. “I think that’s about everyone.”
He blinked at me. “Er, yeah, I guess.”
I let him go and sat down. The whole thing was very interesting. Everyone was so young, and this wasn’t a demographic I’d ever tapped before. My business was catering to an audience, so I was very aware of the tech these kids used, and the style, the conversation, all of it as fascinating as trying a new cuisine.
What kind of dinner would Kitten like? She was so soft and sweet, so delicate, but then she pulled off an ollie in the middle of a perfect slide, and it gave you ideas. Or maybe that was being below her after she’d rolled her already short skirt. She wasn’t aware of her appeal, wasn’t bothered by the completely disrespectful comment about her bra, didn’t notice it any more than she noticed the way the reprobate looked at her. She was not threatened by the insecurity of others. She didn’t even see it. Had she really given that other girl a tattoo? She didn’t have ink on any of the perfect skin I’d seen. Maybe she had a little ink somewhere I hadn’t seen. That gave me even more ideas.
