“Uh, no. And I do still want to beat them. Especially Sarah, since I always beat Camila anyway. But I also get that it’s not really in my control how they perform on a given day, and it’s not worth my energy to obsess over it. So I just want to have some sick runs out there, and to give the 720 a shot on a bigger stage.”

  Beck leans forward until his forehead rests on mine. “It would be pretty cool if we both got to stand on the top of the podium this weekend. But if it doesn’t happen this X Games, there’s always the next one.”

  Our friends call us over then to get some food together before the first practice session. My mind isn’t on dinner, or the epic course I’ll get to skate afterward. No, I’m now thinking about my future, something I’ve been doing a lot lately. Specifically, my future with Beck.

  Yesterday, I turned in paperwork to defer the next two semesters of college, or the entire calendar year next year. I haven’t told Beck yet. It wasn’t even something I had considered two months ago, but now that I’ve made the decision, I know it was the right one. I’ll still have commitments and expectations, a lot of them. But despite that, I’ve never felt lighter, more free, in my life.

  Beck

  The hotel we’re staying at has a rooftop deck, and after a crowded practice session, it’s a relief to find it nearly empty. Jordan lets out a comfortable sigh as she leans against my chest.

  “Phoebe and my friends from home are pissed I talked them out of coming to watch,” she tells me.

  “Why did you?”

  “Because I wanted some moments like this and knew if they were here I’d want to visit with them every second I wasn’t skating.”

  “Is that what you told them?”

  “No, I told them I didn’t want the added pressure, which is also true. And I also told them there will be plenty more opportunities for them to watch me compete.”

  “You know, I haven’t wanted to bring it up because I don’t want you to feel swayed, but have you thought more about your plans next semester, next year?” I’ve wanted to ask her this a million times since she revealed to her parents that she’s seriously considering taking a break from college, but I haven’t let myself. I want badly for her to take a break and it’s for selfish reasons.

  Jordan pulls away to look at me and her smile is carefree and breathtaking. “I turned in the paperwork yesterday to take an entire year off classes.”

  “Fuck, yes,” I blurt out my reaction, filled with happiness for her, for us. I’m aware college is the goal, the dream, the responsible thing to do, but for Jordan, at least in this moment, continuing with college would be the cowardly choice. Maybe not cowardly, but it wouldn’t be the type of path Jordan’s shown she wants to take – one where she embraces life and the good things that come her way wholeheartedly. Without fear.

  My arms wrap around her for a tight hug. When we pull away, I go in for a kiss but she pulls back a little. “Why haven’t you asked me sooner? Are you surprised?”

  “I wanted it too badly for you. I’ve got all kinds of plans for us and didn’t want to influence you. You needed to make this decision on your own.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “Hmm. Maybe, but I’m not going to lie, it helped a lot knowing my parents were on board. I’d only just let myself consider it seriously when I brought it up to them, but once I heard their opinions, I gave myself permission to dream a little more about what it might look like.”

  “And what did you envision?”

  “You and me, coordinating our travel and competition schedules, skating all over the world together.”

  “That’s what I’ve been thinking about too. But I also have some other ideas.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “How would you feel about road-tripping all over North America when we’re not competing? I’ve always wanted to do it but thought I’d get bored or lonely by myself.”

  Jordan’s eyes dance as her smile grows. “I like this idea. Tell me more.”

  And so I do. I’ve spent more time thinking about it than I like to admit, mapping out routes to the coolest skateparks and destinations around the States and Canada. I don’t know that Jordan’s thought through the idea of the van – and me – being her only real home base, but she seems excited about the idea.

  She’s tracing her finger along my thigh, deep in thought after I’ve gone over the big picture. “What is it?”

  “I guess it feels a little indulgent, you know? Traveling around doing what I love with the guy I love. It feels like I need to suffer more.” She turns her head back to look at me and laughs a little. “Well, not suffer, but work, deal with the mundane. All this we’re talking about would be living a dream. Who am I to get to do that?”

  “I hear you. But Jordan, first of all, it’s not like we’ll be staying at luxury hotels. You’ll be using public restrooms, peeing in random parking lots at night, and washing yourself off in lakes or streams most of the time.”

  She laughs in earnest at that. “You know what I mean. What am I doing to contribute to society?” And then she rolls her eyes at herself. “That sounds so dumb.”

  “You want to get into a philosophical discussion about it? I’m down. First of all, we’ll be taking photos, documenting our travels for our followers and sponsors. It’s inspiring to people, helps them dream and get ideas for their next vacation, stuff like that. Competing in skateboarding is the same thing. It inspires people. Entertainment is important. Lots of people have careers in entertainment, Jordan. But also, you’re nineteen, don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

  “What about if we teamed up with Whitney’s foundation? Could we help with the expansion of her programs around the country? Make appearances at some of the camps, talk to the kids and spend time coaching and connecting with the staff? That could be helpful, right? Like to legitimize the programs. Let them know they’re supported by the pro skateboarding community on a personal level?” Whitney’s foundation is about providing outreach and support to underprivileged kids, specifically through skateboarding. It provides a safe place for lessons and community after school, and in the summer.

  My arms go back around her and this time I pull her to my lap. “That’s an incredible idea. Perfect.” This time when I lean down to kiss her, she lets me. But I’m the one to pull away first. “You will always amaze me,” I tell her.

  Jordan looks over my shoulder when we hear voices, and when I see her expression, my body tenses. “What is it?”

  She swallows and squints, like she needs to verify what she’s seeing before articulating it. “It’s Camila.” Her eyes finally find mine. “And your dad.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jordan

  Beck doesn’t say a word about his dad over the next three days of competition. I don’t think either of us knows what to make of it, seeing Camila with Scott, Beck’s dad. They’re together, staying at our hotel, and Scott’s been around the arena watching the event. He’s tried to approach Beck, and I’ve seen he’s been trying to reach him on his phone too, but Beck’s been stoically ignoring all attempts at contact. I don’t blame him. He’s trying to focus on competing, and doesn’t need this right now.

  The Friday practice session in the big air park is staggered, which means it’s not as crowded as it was Thursday night. I’m not sure what compels me, but I decide to practice the 720 after all. I don’t want to wing it this time, and the pressure isn’t getting to me like I expected, like it used to. I don’t know when that changed, maybe once I accepted this isn’t a short-term thing. I’m here for the long game. If this event doesn’t pan out the way I want, there will be plenty more.

  There are five of us nearly tied in the top spots as I go into my last of five runs of the evening. Sarah is one of them of course, along with world champion Aya Nomura, Lennon, and a Brazilian skater who has been one of the top-ranked in the world for years.

  The scores will be based on the top three of our five runs. I fell attempting the 720 on my first run, and that ended up being my worst score. I’m up next, and I still can’t decide whether to give the 720 another shot. I landed it two of six times in practice, and over the past few weeks I’m consistently landing around a third to a half of my attempts, depending on the ramp, its height and structure.

  If I fall, my score for this one probably won’t be one of my best three, which means I won’t move ahead of the other four. On the other hand, if I land it, I could win. I don’t want to get greedy but… winning my first X Games? It might be worth the risk. Sure it would be embarrassing to fall trying the same trick twice, especially after all the hype and praise around my 720 at Fusion Bowl. But with the exception of Sarah Kase, most of my peers in the skateboarding circuit are supportive and excited for me. They would want me to try again, for the pure thrill of it. For the sake of skateboarding and moving it forward with each milestone, big and small. A girl landing a 720 for the first time at the X Games is something new, something to inspire, like Beck was talking about.

  When the buzzer signals the start of my run, it comes down to me simply wanting it. I want to do it. Even if I managed to stand on the top of the podium without the 720, I’d be disappointed in myself for not going for it. The burn in my belly as I drop in and go straight for the steepest vert, it’s not about sticking it to Sarah Kase or showing off for anyone, it’s about the rush, the thrill, the challenge.

  Before I even hit the coping and soar into the air, I know I’m going to land it. My timing is flawless, my positioning perfect. My brain shuts off; there aren’t any voices. Not the anxiety-filled ones who have been eerily silent for months now, and not the instructional ones giving me a play by play on what to do or critiquing my form. It’s all sensation as I fly through the air and glide down the ramp with a gracefulness that surprises me.

  I’m smiling so wide as I carve around the course, I’m tempted to just call it a night with a victory lap. But I’ve still got time on the clock to burn, and I spend it shredding every ledge and vert I can reach.

  This is what it’s all about. Not the score that will appear on the screen or the check I’ll get from my performance. It’s not even about the scowl I know I’ll find on Sarah Kase’s face as soon as I dismount, or the congratulations I’ll receive from the other women.

  It’s about seeing a challenge, an opportunity, and taking that risk, knowing the odds of falling are higher than success. If it inspires others to do the same, so they can feel this perfect kind of natural high I’m experiencing, even better. Skateboarding is about me, having fun, but I’ve realized over the past year, the past couple of months, it can be even bigger than that too.

  Beck

  I’ve stood on top of a podium at the X Games more times than I can count at this point. Vienna, my agent, counts for me and someone updates my website. But sharing this moment with Jordan, her first X Games and her first X Games win, it’s something I’ll never forget. Yeah, this girl will continue to amaze me for the rest of our lives. I’ve got no doubt about it.

  Jordan’s invited to a dinner with the rest of the women who competed vert, and while I want to celebrate with her, I know I’ll get to soon. We make plans to meet up afterward, and I find Taylor and Moses to head to another restaurant with some other guys who competed with us today. Knowing Sarah Kase will be at the dinner and will be all huffy in her jealousy annoys me, but I’m confident Jordan can handle it just fine without me. It might put a little damper on her celebratory vibe, but I can see she’s already forming friendships with the other pro women.

  There’s really only one thing, or one person, who can bring me down tonight, and he grabs my arm as I leave the arena.

  “Beck, I really need to talk to you.”

  I hesitate for just a second, debating whether to deal with him now that the competition is over. It seems like giving him any attention at this point will only provide incentive for him to continue playing games to find a way into my life. But even as I shake his hand off, I realize I’ve got to shut him down once and for all. I’m not going to keep putting up with this crap.

  I turn, directing the full force of my hostility on him. “Fine,” I grit out. “Let’s talk.”

  Dad looks around and gestures for us to move toward the water fountains under the stairs where there’s not as much traffic moving by. I call to Moses and Taylor, who are waiting on me, that I’ll meet them at the restaurant. It’s just around the block.

  Dad looks nervous, and possibly a little panicky, which sets me even more on edge.

  “What is it?” I snap.

  “It’s Camila.”

  Is he kidding me? I almost turn to leave right then but he continues. “She’s got some obsession with you, and with Jordan.”

  “I’m aware of her obsession with me, Dad. This isn’t news. She was all over me on Shred Live. It’s pretty sick you’re with her now for a lot of reasons, but that alone is the biggest.”

  “I’m not really with her, Beck. I’m pretending to be because I knew something was off the second she showed up at my office as a potential client. I recognized her from Shred Live, and I knew all of that footage was fake because of you and Jordan. I only dated her, or pretend-dated her, because I was suspicious of her and I wanted to do something, anything, to earn your trust and respect back.”

  I shoot him a look that I hope shows all my incredulity at this little explanation of his.

  “Or, not earn it back, but earn it, period. I went out on a limb and I think my gut was right, Beck. But her fixation isn’t just on you, it’s on Jordan.”

  My throat goes dry. “Where is she tonight?”

  “She went out to dinner with the other women competitors after the award ceremony just now. But she was acting really off, I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “The same dinner Jordan’s at?”

  Dad nods in response to my question.

  “I thought that was just the women who competed in vert tonight,” I mutter, more to myself.

  “I know. I was in the stands with her watching, and she overheard some of the plans and decided to tag along. I don’t have a good feeling. I think you should go to the dinner, make sure Jordan’s okay.”

  Hearing my dad try to give me advice makes me want to immediately reject all his words, but when it comes to Jordan’s safety, I don’t want to make the wrong call. This kind of behavior isn’t typical for my dad – going out of his way like this, wasting time on a woman who might have an obsession with his son. His concern and alarm appear genuine, and the man has always been fairly transparent to me.

  “You should go,” Dad urges. “Or call her at least and warn her? I don’t know.”

  Dad’s urgency has the dual effect of making me paranoid he’s setting me up for something or other, and also making me want to sprint to the restaurant she’s at. I guess I want to trust him but I have no real basis for giving him that trust either.

  It’s Jordan we’re talking about here, so I’ll risk looking like an idiot. If everything’s fine I can pretend I forgot my wallet in her purse or something.

  “All right, I’m going.”

  I don’t thank him yet though.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jordan

  I don’t think twice about Camila being here until I find myself alone on a balcony with her. The restaurant is on the fifth floor of a building and we had drinks on the large outdoor deck while waiting for our table to be ready. Camila was talking to me, and I wasn’t really paying attention, instead taking in the view of the city below. Now, I turn around and find everyone went inside.

  This is an impromptu gathering of the vert competitors, and Camila only competed in the street category. While someone might have invited her, I haven’t seen anyone else around who wasn’t competing tonight. Also, didn’t she confide in me that she’s felt like an outcast since Shred Live?

  As I turn to head inside, Camila shifts, blocking my path.

  “Jordan.”

  Her voice is slightly hoarse and it shakes.

  It’s then I really look at her and for once, it’s not her beauty that strikes me first. No, it’s the wild hue of her skin, and the unfocused glint in her eye.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  She sways for a beat, and I notice her usual confident, even sultry, pose is entirely absent from her stance.

  “You have everything, Jordan. Everything I’ve always wanted, and will never get.”

  I blink a few times, uncertain if I’m hearing her correctly. The way she’s transformed into a different person is eerily similar to what happened with Fliss when she held me at gunpoint in my own bedroom. A chill goes down my spine.

  “I don’t have everything,” I respond lamely, because I have no idea what else to do or say. The truth is, I’ve been feeling on top of the world lately. Her words resonate, but not in a way that validates I’ve hit my stride in life; no, it feels like she’s holding a brick over me that she’ll drop at any second. Maybe I’m suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress experience.

  “I’ve tried so hard, and I’ll never have it all like you.” She waves a shaky arm around in the space between us. “The friends, the sponsors, the house, the lifestyle, everyone’s respect and admiration,” she continues, a mixture of disgust and resignation filling each word. “Now you’ve won the X Games, landed a 720 of all things, and Beck.” Her voice cracks when she says his name, and she takes a big gulp of air.

  I feel like I should be doing something, but I can’t take my eyes off of her.

  “He’ll never see me like he sees you. Even if I’d taken out your legs somehow a year ago and you’d never skated again, he’d still love you.”

  Her eyes shutter closed as I process her words. Take out my legs? That’s a threat ingrained in my brain.

  “Wait, are you bubblerollie?” It’s weird to say that silly Instagram handle in the midst of this conversation, but it tumbles out of my mouth anyway.