The other kids call out, “Made of awesome! Made of awesome!”
They are the awesome ones. If I don’t get moving, I’ll lose it. Nobody here needs to see a weepy skateboarder. Skateboarders don’t weep.
I line up the campers and seconds before we’re supposed to begin, Wyatt sneaks up beside me, puts his hand in mine and says, “Let’s bounce.”
I’m stuck. My feet won’t bounce, twitch, walk, run, roll, or anything else because, well, A. Boy. Is. Holding. My. Hand. A boy who has the ability to turn me into a rambling idiot when I try to have a real conversation. I’m so nervous, I yank my hand out of his.
“Sorry,” Wyatt says, embarrassed. “It was Odelia’s idea to hold hands as we cruised in.”
“She’s here?” I ask. “Odelia’s here? Where?”
“I dunno. Somewhere.” He doesn’t try to hold my hand again, and my fingers suddenly feel lonely.
“I don’t see her. I have to, to find her!” I stutter, scanning the bleachers, the park, the field. I look everywhere—everywhere except directly at Wyatt.
“She’ll catch up. Don’t worry,” Wyatt says. “We’ve gotta bring the skaters in. They’re making the intros.” Wyatt cracks his knuckles. He reads my it’s-okay-to-hold-my-hand expression, threads his fingers into mine, and leads me away. Another awkward moment is over and done.
Elizabeth is the first skater. She heads out on her longboard, carving in and around the ledges, steps, and quarter-pipe. If anyone would have told me she’d be able to do this weeks ago, I would have argued with them. But here she is, riding like she was born on a board. She thrills the crowd by coming within a foot of the top of the stairs before expertly swerving to the side. The crowd claps. Elizabeth steps off her board and bows. Then she runs to me and gives me a hug, and I can barely keep my eyes dry.
Next in line is Timothy. Timothy skates fifty feet, jumps off, jumps on, and skates a little farther. At the end, he does five jumping jacks, jumping on the board with his feet together, then straddling the board, one foot on each side and on the ground. I’m glad we figured out a good use for his jumping!
Hawk is up next. Wyatt’s been helping him master the ramp, but Hawk isn’t that great at it. He falls almost every time. Once, he almost broke his arm. We were convinced his parents would go ballistic, but they didn’t. Hawk rolls up to the ramp, maybe two feet, and rolls down again backward. He does it again. He’s supposed to go almost to the top, do a kick turn, and come back down. But Wyatt isn’t up there like at practice, and Hawk panics. Wyatt sees the problem. He salutes Hawk and, pretending like it’s part of the show, he marches up the ramp like a soldier and hangs out on the flat area at the top. Hawk makes another go at it. With the perfect amount of speed, he makes a run, spins around just before smashing into Wyatt, and heads down. At the bottom, he claps for himself. The audience joins in. So great!
Miss Robyn leads a bunch of skateboarders through an obstacle course. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t get her comfortable on a skateboard. She’s wearing in-line skates and waving the Smile Academy flag. Everybody slowly weaves in and around the orange cones, as practiced. Some campers stay on for less than fifteen seconds, lose balance, and have to get started again, but they are skating safely within their limits and having a good time.
Finally, I see Odelia. She and Claire, Robbie, Elizabeth, and Joe are on their skateboards in a line, like a train. I’m supposed to be the caboose, and if I don’t catch up, I’ll miss grabbing Joe’s outstretched hand. We push into the park until we’re lined up around the volcano, facing outward. One at a time, like a wave, each camper snaps up the back end of their boards with their left toe. Then they grab it with both hands and lift it way high and down, and the wave repeats. This time, they twirl their boards. When it comes around to the beginning of the circle a final time, the campers put their boards on the ground and stomp their feet to a double beat, chanting Mighty Munchkins, Mighty Munchkins. The crowd joins in and pounds out the beat on the bleachers. Next, while skating slowly, we all fall in line behind Odelia for Follow-the-Leader. When Odelia’s hands go up, our hands go up. When she wiggles her butt, we wiggle ours. When she blows kisses, we copy her. Not once do the kids get frustrated and quit. Not once do they stop grinning. The people in the bleachers hoot and holler, then stand and clap. I am so proud of the campers I temporarily forget that I need to get Odelia alone. And soon!
The campers get their big blue ribbons right away, and from their screams and shouts, you’d think they’ve just won a million bucks. I’m shuffled off to the back of the park where the other competitors are gathered. I make an attempt to get Odelia’s attention. She sees me, and I yell, “I have to talk to you!” but I’m sure she can’t hear me. No Boys Allowed has started hammering out an extremely loud beat for skate-off warm up.
***
Just Keep Skating
Twenty-one skaters are participating in the main event. I’m one of four girls. There’s a short girl who’s no older than me, and she’s crouched on her board, chewing on her nails, yakking to another girl who’s thirteen or fourteen. That girl is dressed in top-name skater wear. The third girl, the scariest one, is by herself. She’s got
