The girl showed up every day that spring. Black ponytail under a backwards black cap, cargo cut-offs to her shins, worn-out combat boots she swapped for Vans yanked out of an overstuffed backpack. Her board was old and beat to shit, but she was obviously new to riding it, which meant it was probably a hand-me-down from an older brother. That’s what the boys at the skate park guessed while they watched her ride the bowl, knees bent the way she must have seen in some instructional video, arms spread wide, a fierce look on her sharp features—a dare for anyone to come over and give her a pointer, so she could tell him where to shove it.
Instead they gave her space, impressed by her dedication if not her skill. She fell a lot, brushed off her scrapes, fell some more. She wasn’t interested in ollies or grinds or slides, just wanted to make smooth turns at the top of the bowl and rip through as fast as she could. She didn’t talk to any of them, just raised a chin in greeting, a finger in thanks if someone cleared out to give her room to maneuver. When they made sure no cops were around and passed a lit bowl in the shape of Bart Simpson’s head, they waved her over, and she took a hit without hesitation and gave them a smile so surprising it made them sweat.
After a week, the boldest of them took a squat beside her while she changed her shoes. He was also the best skater in the park and had thick shaggy hair the rest of them envied. I’m Devon, he said, and held out a fist for her to bump. Good for you, she answered, and kicked the fist with a foot bare between boot and sneaker. Then she laughed in a way that opened up her whole face, and all the boys decided she was fucking beautiful, someone to dream about in their beds every night, staring at curtains their moms had picked out and Fugazi posters they’d hung with tacks on the suffocating walls of childhood rooms they couldn’t wait to get away from, though imagining sleeping somewhere else brought a pang they’d now always associate with the girl’s stunning smile.
It took a little while, but eventually they learned: her name was Teri, short for Teresa. She went to Lakewood High, a sophomore, but she hated it over in Lakewood. Too many fucking Ricans, she said. It turned out she was Rican, too, or at least her dad was. And what she really hated was that everyone expected her to speak Spanish because her last name was Mendez, but she didn’t, not a word of it. What about taco? Devon asked. What the fuck’s a taco? she answered. The only language she spoke other than English was Hebrew, at least enough to mouth her way through Friday night services. She was Jewrican, she told them, bat mitzvahed and everything, and anyway, she hadn’t seen her dad in like two, three years.
Even then they guessed there were other reasons she took the bus to Chatwin every day after school, and early on Saturday and Sunday. The skate park in Lakewood was newer and better designed, with a smoother bowl and more skills stations, but she suffered the smelly Number 12 seven miles down Route 10, walked past the vagrants in the bus mall who’d whistle at her or beg for change, just so she could ride with them? Hanging with you losers is just collateral damage, she said, sucking on the end of Bart Simpson’s nose and laughing her gorgeous laugh.
She got better quickly in any case. She pushed herself harder than any of them, made herself so sweaty her shirt stuck to her skin and showed them the outline of a bra covering her not-quite-flat chest. They were all so smitten they stopped talking about her, at least with each other. Their thoughts were too precious to speak out loud. Devon, of course, was the first to make a move, letting that sandy shag fall in front of his eyes, asking if she wanted to hang at his place some night, or go see a flick—the Victory showed second-run horror and had the cheapest popcorn around. Smooth approach, dude, she said, and that she smiled while turning him down cut deeper than if she’d winced with disgust. Another of them lost his mind and tried to kiss her, and she punched him hard in the armpit.
Lesbian, they all guessed, with a certain measure of relief. Soon they said as much to each other, adding, That’s cool, and, If I were a chick, I’d be a lesbian, too, and, I wouldn’t mind watching her get with another girl.
But then she started hanging with Germ. If he had any other name, they didn’t know it. He didn’t go to Chatwin High either, or Lenape, where some of the richer kids among them went, the ones who had new boards every year and got rides to the park in Lexus SUVs. Union Knoll, they heard, but by then it was already June, and he was about to graduate anyway, a few of them were, and they had to get jobs for the summer, and maybe they wouldn’t be at the park every day anymore. It was time to grow up now, leave their high school lives behind, and maybe they could finally forget about Teri and her heartbreaking smile, the wedge of perfect calf between the end of cut-off cargos and the top of ankle socks.
Germ didn’t skate much anymore. He’d blown out his knee not this last fall but the one before. He’d wheel around a few minutes, but mostly he’d sit on the benches and watch. None of the other boys liked him much, or maybe they just didn’t get him. He was short and skinny and mean-looking, in a denim jacket and T‑shirts with the names of bands they’d never heard of, and they didn’t know why he hung around when he hardly rode or spoke to any of them. They guessed it was because he could sell a few quarter bags every week, and it was true they bought from him because his weed was better and cheaper than what they copped from kids at their own schools. Plus he’d occasionally throw in a Percocet, which a doctor prescribed for his knee. He wouldn’t sell those, just give them away as a little bonus for repeat customers, which they supposed was generous, though he was never nice about it, just gruff and business-like, and the music leaking from his headphones was weird and droning and not at all to their taste.
They didn’t understand why Teri would hang with him, and it drove them a little crazy when they saw her get into his car, a little red hatchback that once had stickers all over the back but now just the leftover glue from those he’d scraped off, blackened with grime. One of them spotted her with him at the Victory, for a showing of Halloween 4, and yeah, they were fucking holding hands, and during the credits she leaned over and kissed him with those juicy lips they all dreamed about. If it’d been another girl, they could’ve handled it, they all agreed. But fucking Germ?
She couldn’t be into him, not genuinely, they told themselves. It was just the good weed he had access to that kept her coming back. Probably gave her whole bottles of Percs, too. And they thought they noticed she was a little slower in the bowl, a little drowsy-looking. The asshole had gotten her hooked, they guessed, and said someone ought to tell him to lay off. But they all wanted his quarter bags, so they left it alone and watched her turns go lazy. What did they care if she couldn’t be bothered to work as hard and get so sweaty now that it was summer and heat made the air wavy over the blacktop? Most of them had gotten jobs that kept them away during the week, except the rich Lenape kids who just swam and sunned themselves at the private lake with a little beach and floating dock, an ice cream stand and giggling girls in bikinis who were easier to get with even if they didn’t know how to ride a board or smile half as sweetly and sensuously as Teri.
The few who were left stopped paying much attention to her, or pretended to stop, especially now that she and Germ would make out right there on the bench beside the bowl, and sometimes they’d fight there, too, in whispers too low to distinguish any words, leaving them to read body language instead, Germ making pleading gestures with his hands, Teri turning away. They wrote her off then, or would have, except one afternoon when she fell, her tank top pulled up to reveal bruises on her belly and up her ribs, some fresh and dark purple, others going yellow at the edges. They couldn’t keep themselves from gawking. She yanked the fabric down, grabbed her board and backpack, and hurried away without changing back into her boots. Germ called after her, said he’d give her a ride, but she just kept on in the direction of the bus mall without turning back.
No way she got those from falling off her board, they all agreed, and that was enough. Now they had no choice but to confront Germ, cheap quarter bags or not. He was alone the next day, and Devon was the one to sneak up behind him and pin his arms behind his back, while another boy grabbed the neck of his shirt and twisted. You like to beat up girls? a third said. Get her drugged and slap her around? Devon yanked hard on his shoulders, gave them a wrench that made him cry out, and that was satisfying to all of them, this son-of-a-bitch who not only scored the girl of their dreams and flaunted it in their faces but treated her like garbage, too, which meant he treated their dreams like garbage, making them feel even smaller and less significant than they already did now that they’d graduated high school and had no idea what their futures would look like, even those who were heading off to college in another month.
But they were confused when tears sprang to his eyes. He started straight-up weeping in front of them, blubbering so they could hardly understand him. Then they just let him go, and he slumped onto the bench, held his head in his hands. They expected a confession, or maybe some begging for forgiveness, but what he said instead made them wish they’d just minded their own business.
I tried man, he said. I wanted her to get away from there. But she’s afraid she’ll get stuck in foster care. Says she’s too close to being free now, just wants to ride it out till she’s eighteen, but that’s like another two years, and I’m afraid he’s gonna fuckin kill her before that.
Who? they asked, but it didn’t really matter by then, because they all had the same feeling: that they didn’t understand shit, that the world was so much more fucked up than they’d ever realized, that they’d be better off with their eyes closed or staring at the floral curtains in their childhood bedrooms.
Stepdad, he said. Mom’s boyfriend, really. They aren’t married. But he’s been there for years. I known her almost all my life, he said. We went to Hebrew school together when we were kids. Hadn’t seen her for a few years till she showed up here. Didn’t expect her to remember me at all. Felt like a gift when she put her arm around me. I know she doesn’t love me or anything, but I’d do anything for her. Offered to take her with me when I go to Philly in the fall. Or fuck college and get a job to support her. Whatever she wants. But she says she’ll just ride it out, last couple years in that dump, and she doesn’t need me or anyone else to take care of her.
Then the boys didn’t know what else to say or do but buy one of Germ’s quarter bags, smoke some of it from Bart Simpson’s face, and skate until their clothes were soaked through. They went home and sat in their backyards in the humid July air, waiting forever for the sun to go down. And then it didn’t get any cooler, but the fireflies came out, and they watched the mysterious moving lights against the dark shapes of shrubs and wooden fences and thought they were lucky not to have fallen for her, not in a big way, at least, lucky they could keep a little distance from all that pain. But they’d be extra cool to her next time they saw her, give her the whole bowl to ride on her own if she wanted the space, and cool to Germ, too, even if the kid listened to freaky music and had a squinty expression and funny-looking bristly hair. There was something about him. Teri had seen it, and now they saw it too.
But Teri didn’t show up at the park after that, and Germ came only once or twice. Said she was skating in Lakewood now, people there knew too much about her, talked all kinds of shit to her, but none paid attention to her bruises. Said she was fluent in Spanish, too, always had been, and she kept a Puerto Rican flag on her wall even if her dad was a dick who’d abandoned her when her mom took up with someone else. Said he was starting art school in Philly in a few weeks, and from there he couldn’t do anything for her. Said he was gearing up to let her go.
Maybe he’d draw designs for their boards while he was there, Devon suggested.
I’m done with skating, Germ said. Don’t want anything to do with it. Not ever again.
~
Scott Nadelson is the author of nine books, most recently the novel Trust Me, winner of the Edward Lewis Wallant Award for Jewish fiction. He teaches at Willamette University and in the Rainier Writing Workshop MFA Program at Pacific Lutheran University.