𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐀! | harry styles

𝐕𝐈

MY hair flies behind me as Aimee pushes me on her skateboard. It's really hot out, but we couldn't find anyone to ask for a ride to where Chris is hanging with his skateboard friends. Again, I bitch out Dad for not buying me a car and complain that Chris should pick her up like a gentleman if he expects her to spend an afternoon watching him ride around on cracked asphalt and iron railings. She shoots back that Kyle could do the same.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"I dunno, you seemed pretty happy at the beach last week when he stopped by."

I flip her the bird and jump off the board, giving Fran a turn. "Is he going to be your boyfriend?" Fran asks as she balances herself.

"I don't know." Since our movie date we've been out one other time to the diner. It's not that he's not a nice guy, or cute, but he's not Harry. A fact I don't say out loud. "Dad wants to meet him, though."

"Make sure he comes after dinner," Aimee says as she grabs Fran's hand. We pull her by the arms while cars honk at us to get off the road. She's laughing and trying not to fall as we run and whip her so she's flying on her own. We take a few more turns until Aimee declares she needs a smoke and picks the board up nestling it under her arm while we walk slow.

The place they're skating in is the old library parking lot. It has lots of curbs and stairs and all the stuff the skateboarders seem to think is a great way to injure yourself. There's about fifteen of them standing around pretending to be the Z-Boys from Santa Monica, which they will never be. We sit on the cement and cheer them on anyway as they do jumps and spin around, and we hold our breath when one guy gets so low in a turn that his long, blonde hair is brushing the ground.

Chris glides towards us after performing a few cool tricks. He's really very good and we tell him that. Aimee says she wants to learn some moves, so like an attentive boyfriend, he coaches her how to do some basics until she gets too hot and sits back down on the concrete.

"I wish we had beer," she says, fanning herself with her hand.

"Hell, I'd give a hand job for a Tab." I look around to see if there are any coolers or backpacks, as Fran makes a clucking sound next to me.

"You really shouldn't joke like that."

"Who said I'm joking?" I bump my shoulder into hers and make a goofy face at her until she smiles. She really needs to loosen up.

A skateboarder starts coming fast towards us and I'm about to get off my ass so he doesn't give me a concussion when he makes a sudden stop in front of us, kicking up gravel.

The shaggy blond smiling at us makes my eyes go wide. "Mr. Hendrix," I say, surprised to see a teacher out here with these guys.

"I didn't know you skated," Aimee says to him, shielding her eyes.

"Sure. It's just like surfing. How's your summer going, ladies?" Aimee and I answer generically while I try to catch a glimpse of Fran's reaction to her dreamboat showing up out of nowhere.

The conversation continues in the type of banal niceties you say to a teacher when you see them awkwardly outside of school until he makes motions like he's going leave. "Okay, well, you girls enjoy the rest of summer. Fran," he smiles as he turns to her, "hope you're reading some plays during your break."