I wasn’t making my momproud, per se. But that was the first time I realized she thought there was something wrong with me. Like, my brain was defective. I shut down and refused to talk—”
“As one does,” he says.
“As one does. So she banished me to my room.”
“You had your guitar, though,” Ginny says. “We could hear you wailing on it all through dinner.”
I grin at her, then turn to Theo. “A few months later my mom got me tested for learning disabilities. I thought she was doing it to punish me, but it turned out I had dyslexia and ADHD, and that’s why remembering was hard. The look on my mom’s face when she saw the results . . . she was vindicated, you know? She won.”
“Sounds like she’s got some issues,” Theo says carefully, and I snort. The story of me and my mom is heartbreak by a thousand paper cuts. At least I’m no longer too ashamed to talk about it.
“The next year, Ginny got tested for Gifted and got in. Mom was thrilled. Ginny wanted to be a doctor back then, too, and my mom told everyone who would listen. She was so proud.” I spin on the board’s back wheels. “I’d never been jealous of Ginny before that.”
“You beautiful fool,” Ginny says affectionately.
“I figured Ginny was the favorite, I was the failure, and that was that.”
Theo’s uncharacteristically silent. I can’t read his face, but even if he’s regretting asking me so many questions, I’m going to finish the story.
“Anyway.” I take a deep breath and stop the skateboard. “When I started getting serious about music, trying to puta band together, Ginny ignored her homework to spend afternoons with me and eventually dropped out of Gifted. My mom was furious. But it turned out what Ginny really wanted to do was whatever I was doing. For some reason, she chose me. We were our own family.”
“You and me,” Ginny promises. “Forever.”
“She sounds fascinating,” Theo says. “I wish I’d met—”
Wild whooping erupts from across the skate park. I twist to find Ripper and Kenny scaling the chain-link fence with practiced ease.
Kenny cups his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “What’s up, Banana?”
Theo looks horrified. “They’re broadcasting our break-in.”
“Relax. We know the owner. He lets us come whenever we want.”
Theo’s hazel eyes widen. “Why didn’t you say that from the beginning?”
“Coming through,” Ripper shouts as he barrels so close to Theo that Theo has to jump out of the way.
Kenny drifts by after him, leaning this way and that so he and his board form a wave. “You rip the ledge yet?”
I hold up my bare arms. “No gear. Which reminds me.” In the distance, Ripper’s gunning for the handrail. “If you bust your face before the show,” I yell, “don’t come crying to me!”
“Yes, Mom,” Ripper shouts, but cuts the board away and flies off in another direction.
Kenny pulls his hair into a ponytail while he circles Theo. “You skate, Suit?”
Theo makes a scoffing sound. “I prefer my limbs attached, thank you.”
Ripper zooms by. “Can you imagine?” He jerks his arms, mimicking an android. “My name is Corporate Dorkus 3000,” he says, in imitation of a robot. “I am here to achieve maximum efficiency at the sport you humans call skateboarding.”
I roll my eyes, but Kenny copies Ripper’s voice. “Maximum efficiency for maximum profit. Reporting to Overlord Roger Braverman. Together we will take over the world.”
Now I’m laughing. “Aww.” I hit Theo’s shoulder. “Sounds just like you.”
“So that’s it?” Theo’s expression is pure confusion. “You guys are just cool with each other again? No need to talk about your fight?”
Kenny kicks off the concrete to gather speed. “We’re family. That’s how we do.”
“We’ve known each other since we were eighteen,” I say. “Yesterday wasn’t our first rodeo.”
