Page 4 of Blaze & Ajax

As always, he looked at me with his pierced nose in the air. He was almost a foot shorter than me, and still, he thought he was bigger and better.

Blaze’s straight, black hair fell in his face, hiding his cold, black eyes. Today he wore large gauges in his ears with dangling hoops inside. His septum piercing glinted in the dim light of the indoor skatepark. The floral tattoos were oddly ornate and pretty for someone so fucking ugly. Maybe he wasn’t ugly on the outside, but he was hideous on the inside.

Every time I saw his mug, I wanted to punch it, vibrating with loathing.

“Just ignore him,” Nacho said, knowing exactly how I felt about Blaze. Hell, everyone did, especially Blaze himself.

Nacho was about as tall as Blaze, but he was kinder and sweeter, taking care of his best friend, Pippin, who had ADHD, among other things. It was supposed to be a secret, but I’d figured it out. You couldn’t hide it despite Pippin’s best efforts.

I loved all my friends, and Stone was starting to grow on me. Cueball was an enigma, but since he was close friends with Blaze, I kept my distance from him.

Pippin and Nacho took off to skate as Stix hopped off his board. His mullet was freshly bleached, and he wore one of his ironic T-shirts, which said ‘Dad on the streets. Daddy in the sheets.’

“’Sup,Ajax,” he said.

We fist-bumped, and he handed me a flask. I took a gulp of the harsh alcohol, feeling the burn straight into my stomach.

Despite the bane of my existence in the room, I was bouncy and thrumming with energy. I’d been sleeping like shit lately, taking way too many over-the-counter sleeping pills, which didn’t seem to help at all. Still, I felt good and alert.

“What’s wrong with you?” Stix asked.

Nacho asked the same question earlier when we met up. “Nothing. Why does everyone keep asking that?”

“Because you look like you’ve lost some weight and you look tired.”

I shrugged. “I don’t feel tired.”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Everyone needs to stop asking me that!”

His brown eyes grew wide. “Chill, dude. Just concerned, is all.”

I deflated and rubbed my neck. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Feeling the burning coal-black eyes singeing on my back, I took off toward one of the vert ramps to skate, needing to burn this weird energy off. There were some tricks I’d been wanting to try, too. I’d been watching the McTwist move onYouTube, which was a front flip with a 540-degree rotation. It was hard, but not the hardest of tricks. I was confident I could pull it off, as long as I stuck the landing.

When I reached the ramp, I tossed off my hoodie despite it being cold as fuck in here. I’d warm up soon enough.

This was the biggest ramp inside the place, needing to climb up to the top ledge using a ladder. I hopped onto my board and took off down the pipe, warming up with some smaller flips and twists as I caught air over the lip of the ramp.

The more I stuck the landings, the bolder I grew, taking more risks and changing things up. It was nice to get lost for a while with the cold breeze on my face, silencing the racing thoughts that had started recently, and why I couldn’t sleep.

I was soon in the zone, feeling so free, like I could fly and doanything.

I was ready.

After dropping down the ramp, I pushed myself fast, pumping my legs to get over the top on the other side. I caught air, flipped, and spun along with my board. Once I grabbed my board, I planted my feet on it as I came down. But because you couldn’t see your landing on this move, I missed it and fell hard onto my shoulder and hip.

I slid down to the middle of the pipe and lay there, stunned for a second, before curling into myself as the pain radiated throughout my body.

“Fuck!”

“Dude, are you okay?” Stix asked, grabbing at me to pull me up.

Soon other hands were tugging on me.

“How’s your head?” Nacho asked.