Starboy

Chapter 26: Sk8er Boi

Brandy

Knowing me, Benji packed my favourite yellow top, a pair of leggings, and a loose jean skirt to go over it. He didn't have to pack my sneakers because, of course, I am already wearing them. I'll wear a dress but I'll be damned if I wear a pair of heels.

We board the subway and hold hands the entire way to wherever the next destination is. I have to admit, so far this date is the textbook definition of picture perfect.

I already feel like I know more about Benji than I did before and it's a great thing. We've hung out a zillion times, but we've never dated. We've never held hands on the subway and kissed publicly like two idiots in love.

I've always wondered what that love would be like. I've spent my life watching people share that love—like my parents. That hopelessly in love kind of love. I've always wanted that, and now I think I might have it.

I close my eyes again and trust Benji with not letting me bump into a pole. I grip his hands tightly when I accidentally step over my shoelace, but he keeps me upright.

"Sound familiar?" He asks as my eyes remain close. "Do you know where we are?"

I shake my head. "I don't know, I can't tell."

As we get closer to the sounds, I immediately recognize where we are. How could I not? I've spent my whole life here.

"Okay, okay. Open your eyes," he instructs me and I listen.

They flash open and right before me is my favourite skatepark. That explains why Benji is dressed like a skater boy.

"The skate park?" I ask, not sure why we're here.

"This is where we really became friends," he tells me. "We used to come here all the time."

"Before you stopped coming." I say quietly.

He nods his head. "Ready to skate?" He asks after a moment of silence.

"I didn't bring my board, Benji." I remind him.

"You didn't," he says. "I did."

He ditches me for a second and I watch him approach what looks like Andrew. Andrew passes him our boards and he returns with a smile on his face.

"Andrew was in on all of this?" I ask gleefully.

"Who's Benji Cruz without his personal chauffeur?" He asks, quoting what I said earlier tonight.

I laugh. "Give me my board, skater boy." I say and I grab my blue board from him.

"I know I have an advantage, but I'm still going to show off." I joke around.

"Hey, just because I haven't skated in..." he thinks.

"Four years." I chuckle.

"Right—four years. It doesn't mean I still can't kick your ass." He continues to joke with me.

"When have you ever kicked my ass before? If I remember correctly, you sprained your ankle in seventh grade after trying the kick flip." I say flirty and confidently.

He laughs. "Maybe that's why I stopped skating."

"No," I chuckle. "You stopped coming because you started high school. And you met your asshole friends." I lightly remind him.

"That too." He smiles.

I spend twenty minutes laughing at Benji's poor skating skills before I reteach him some basic moves. He was never a Tony Hawk, but now he's just awful. It's kind of adorable, though. I like teaching him—he's so desperate and clueless.