The Bright Side

Chapter 4 - Part 2

TRISTAN

"So, is there anything left for me to do?" I ask Mum, who is shuffling through the bookings right next to me.

"I don't think so." She replies absentmindedly. "Are you going home?"

"No, I'm meeting Sky at East Coast."

"East Coast-what?"

"East Coast Skate Park." I hold my breath and hope that she just overheard those last two words. Sometimes my mouth is just quicker than my brain. Mum's head jerks up.

"You're kidding me, right? Show me that left arm of yours. Oh, right, it's in a cast."

"Mum..." I beg.

"No. I forbid it."

"You forbid it?"

"Yes. I forbid it."

"Last time I checked I was nineteen. And you want to forbid me to go out?"

"I forbid you to go skating." She crosses her arms in front of her chest and straightens her back. She's smaller than me but I can't deny that her expression makes me feel like a kid.

"It's not likely that I'll break my arm again. It's protected by the cast."

She slams her flat hands onto the counter and there are bolts shooting from her eyes.

"Fine. Go. Break your neck. But you'll be at work ten sharp tomorrow, no matter what."

"Fine! I'll just ask the coroner to let the door of the freezer ajar for me to get out in time!"

By now she should've understood that I'm not totally incapable of skating. Well, when I'm sober.

"Tristan!"

"It will be fine, Mum. Nothing reckless, I promise." I lean over and kiss her cheek, that usually softens her up a bit.

"I dare you show up with as much as a scratch tonight. I'll shove your board into the shredder." She's probably unaware that it's board over shredder in this game of board-paper-shredder, but I get the picture.

"Will I have to undress in front of you?" I duck as she attempts to slap the back of my head.

"Out!"

The weather is fantastic today; the sun burns down from the sky, paralyzing the world. The streets are silent because people seem to have retired to the cool inside of their houses. It's eerie. It's good that East Coast Skate Park is so close to the sea; it's solely the breeze that will prevent me and Sky from melting into our boards.

It takes me ages to get there. There are eleven different routes from my house to Sky's that allow me to steer clear of both, the place Matt lives above his parent's bakery, and the schoolyard. Each of them add at least an extra ten minutes to what feels like a ridiculously long journey solely to go skating. I feel stupid as I arrive with my board tucked underneath my arm. I could've just as well ridden it here, but apparently, I'm so used to not skate already, that it didn't even cross my mind.

"Tristan!" a familiar voice shouts after me just as I turn into Belle Vue Road to pick up Sky for my very first go at East Coast Skate Park.

It's Gran, slowly creeping down the street that has more potholes than intact concrete. Her arms are laden with shopping bags and she huffs and sighs theatrically as she approaches me. I give her a short wave and slowly walk towards her, by the time we meet we're standing on the overgrown sidewalk in front of Sky's garden gate.

"Hey, sweetums." Gran presses a wrinkled cheek against mine.

"Hey, Gran."

Why on earth do old people always smell of chamomile? I'm glad she retreats and I can breathe normal air again, smelling of exhaust gases and the sea.