Number One

“I don’t care, Andrew. I’m going to ask. I don’t care anymore,” Cole said, Andrew gripping his shoulders. Andrew shook him some more, with adolescent passion.

“I am saying to you that it is impossible, Cole! Ricky is all over her! They are practically dating, man! Dating! You are gonna get shot down. You would need a miracle for her to say yes.

At that moment, a pair of skates and designer jeans landed on Cole’s shoulders. Andrew watched in horror as Ricky flipped over the divider wall and Cole fell to the ground under Ricky’s weight. The two boys lay crumpled on the ground like dirty pants as “Jump” by Criss Cross took it to the first chorus. Cole struggled to get out from underneath Ricky, who eventually rolled off. Cole held his previously injured hip and pulled himself back to his feet. Ricky’s head was swirling faster than a high-end blender, but he managed to stand up again, bracing himself with the wall he just traveled over.

“Oh my god, did I land on you?” Ricky asked Cole without looking at him.

“Yeah, you did,” Cole strained. Andrew stood in shock, but soon regained his sense of antagonism, directing it now to Ricky’s airborne assault.

“Why don’t you watch where you are going, Ricky?” Andrew spat.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, An-drew!”

“You’re such an asshole, Ricky. Everyone thinks so.”

“Shut up, idiot!” Ricky said, stressing the idiot, turning it into a bigger insult the way only a kid can do.

“Why don’t you get your boyfriend Scott Foreman to shut me up?” Andrew stuck his chin out.

Ricky lunged at Andrew, knocking them both off balance. Andrew toppled backwards, knocking his head on the hard floor while Ricky landed mouth first on Andrew’s skate. A chaperon appeared after seeing the two boys yell at each other and fall over.

“What’s going on over here? You,” the chaperon shouted at Cole “what’s happening here?” Cole regained his composure as he told the chaperon that they were joking around and the both fell by accident. Andrew stood up, tears in his eyes and hold his head. Ricky was patting at the ground. “What’s your problem, son? You loose a contact?”

“Toof! Tooof!” Ricky called out, holding his mouth.

“You what?”

“Toof! I woft ma toof!”

“Son, I can’t hear you over the music.”

“I said I lost my tooth, idiot!” Ricky snarled through tears, sporting a new gap in his smile.

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Moonlight Skate

Adam Bozarth