Wipe Out
Tally fell off. Again.
The spill didn’t hurt so much, this time. The moment her feet slipped off the hoverboard,
she’d relaxed, the way Shay kept telling her to. Spinning out wasn’t much worse thanhaving your dad swing you around by the wrists when you were little.
If your dad happened to be a superhuman freak and was trying to pull your arms out of
their sockets.
But the momentum had to go somewhere, Shay had explained. And around in circles was
better than into a tree. Here in Cleopatra Park there were plenty of those.
After a few rotations, Tally found herself being lowered to the grass by her wrists, dizzy
but in one piece.
Shay cruised up, banking her hoverboard to an elegant stop as if she’d been born on one.
“That looked a little better.”
“It didn’t feel any better.” Tally pulled off one crash bracelet and rubbed her wrist. It was
turning red, and her fingers felt weak.
The bracelet was heavy and solid in her hand. Crash bracelets had to have metal inside,
because they worked on magnets, the way the boards did. Whenever Tally’s feet slipped,
the bracelets got all hovery and caught her fall, like some friendly giant plucking her from
danger and swinging her to a halt.
By her wrists. Again.
Tally pulled the other bracelet off and rubbed.
“Don’t give up. You almost made it!”
Tally’s board cruised back on its own, nuzzling at her ankles like an apologetic dog. She
crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders. “I almost got snapped in two, you mean.”
“Never happens. I’ve spilled more times than a glass of milk on a roller coaster.”
“On a what ?”
“Never mind. Come on, one more try.”
Tally sighed. It wasn’t just her wrists. Her knees ached from banking hard, whipping
through turns so quickly that her body seemed to weigh a ton. Shay called that “high
gravity,” which happened every time a fast-moving object changed direction.
“Hoverboarding looks so fun, like being a bird. But actually doing it is hard work.”
Shay shrugged. “Being a bird’s probably hard work too. Flapping your wings all day, you
know?”
“Maybe. Does it get any better?”
“For birds? I don’t know. On a board? Definitely.”
“I hope so.” Tally pulled her bracelets on and stepped onto the hoverboard. It bobbed a
little as it adjusted to her weight, like the bounce of a diving board.
“Check your belly sensor.”
Tally touched her belly ring, where Shay had clipped the little sensor. It told the board
where Tally’s center of gravity was, and which way she was facing. The sensor even read
her stomach muscles, which, it turned out, hoverboarders always clenched in anticipation
of turns. The board was smart enough to gradually learn how her body moved. The more
Tally rode, the more it would keep itself under her feet.
Of course, Tally had to learn too. Shay kept saying that if your feet weren’t in the right
place, the smartest board in the world couldn’t keep you on. The riding surface was all
knobbly for traction, but it was amazing how easy it was to slip off.
The board was oval-shaped, about half as long as Tally was tall, and black with the silver
spots of a cheetah—the only animal in the world that could run faster than a hoverboard
could fly. It was Shay’s first board, and she’d never recycled it. Until today,it had hung onthe wall above her bed.
Tally snapped her fingers, bent her knees as she rose into the air, then leaned forward to
pick up speed.
Shay cruised along just above her, staying a little behind.
The trees started to rush by, whipping Tally’s arms with the sharp stings of evergreen
needles. The board wouldn’t let her crash into anything solid, but it didn’t get too
concerned about twigs.
“Extend your arms. Keep your feet apart!” Shay yelled for the thousandth time. Tally
nervously scooted her left foot forward.
At the end of the park, Tally leaned to her right, and the board pulled into a long, steep
turn. She bent her knees, growing heavy as she cut back toward where they’d started.
Now Tally was rushing toward the slalom flags, crouching as she drew closer. She could
feel the wind drying her lips, lifting her ponytail up.
“Oh, boy,” she whispered.
The board raced past the first flag, and she leaned hard right, her arms all the way out now
for balance.
“Switch!” cried Shay. Tally twisted her body to bring the board under her and across,
cutting around the next flag. Once it was past, she twisted again.
But her feet were too close together. Not again! Her shoes slipped across the surface of
the board.
“No!” she cried, clenching her toes, cupping the air with her palms, anything to keep
herself on board.
Her right shoe slid toward the board’s edge until her toes were silhouetted against the
trees.
The trees! She was almost sideways, her body parallel with the ground.
The slalom flag zoomed past, and suddenly, it was over. The board swung back under
Tally as her course straightened out again.
She’d made the turn!
Tally spun to face Shay. “I did it!” she cried.
And fell.
Confused by her spin, the board had tried to execute a turn, and dumped her. Tally relaxed
as her arms jerked straight and the world spun around her. She was laughing as she
descended to the grass, dangling by her bracelets.
Shay was also laughing. “Almost did it.”
“No! I got around the flags. You saw!”
“Okay, okay. You made it.” Shay laughed, stepping off onto the grass. “But don’t dance
around like that afterward. It’s not cool, Squint.”
Tally stuck out her tongue. In the last week, Tally had learned that Shay only used her
ugly nickname as a put-down. Shay insisted they call each other by their real names most
of the time, which Tally had quickly gotten used to. She liked it, actually. Nobody but Sol
and Ellie—her parents—and a few stuck-up teachers had ever called her “Tally” before.
“Whatever you say, Skinny. That was great.”
Tally collapsed on the grass. Her whole body ached, every muscle exhausted. “Thanks for
the lesson.
Flying’s the best.”Shay sat down close by. “Never bored on a hoverboard.”
“This is the best I’ve felt since…” Tally didn’t say his name. She looked up into the sky,
which was a glorious blue. A perfect sky. They hadn’t gotten started until late afternoon.
Above, a few high clouds were already showing hints of pink, even though sunset was
hours off.
“Yeah,” Shay agreed. “Me too. I was getting sick of hanging out alone.”
“So how long you got?”
Shay answered instantly. “Two months and twenty-six days.”
Tally was stunned for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“’Course I’m sure.”
Tally felt a big, slow smile roll across her face, and she fell back onto the grass, laughing.
“You’ve got to be kidding. We’ve got the same birthday!”
“No way.”
“Yeah, way. It’s perfect. We’ll both turn pretty together!”
Shay was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”
“September ninth, right?”
Shay nodded.
“That is so cool. I mean, I don’t think I could stand to lose another friend. You know? We
don’t have to worry about one of us abandoning the other. Not for a single day.”
Shay sat up straight, her smile gone. “I wouldn’t do that, anyway.”
Tally blinked. “I didn’t say you would, but…”
“But what?”
“But when you turn, you go over to New Pretty Town.”
“So? Pretties are allowed to come back over here, you know. Or write.”
Tally snorted. “But they don’t.”
“I would.” Shay looked out over the river at the spires of the party towers, placing a
thumbnail firmly between her teeth.
“So would I, Shay. I’d come see you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Really.”
Shay shrugged, and lay back down to stare up at the clouds. “Okay. But you’re not the
first person to make that promise, you know.”
“Yeah, I do know.”
They were silent for a moment. Clouds rolled slowly across the sun, and the air grew cool.
Tally thought of Peris, and tried to remember the way he used to look back when he was
Nose. Somehow, she couldn’t recall his ugly face anymore. As if those few minutes of
seeing him pretty had wiped out a lifetime of memories. All she could see now was pretty
Peris, those eyes, that smile.
“I wonder why they never come back,” Shay said. “Just to visit.”
Tally swallowed.
“Because we’re so ugly, Skinny, that’s why.”
