Read Online The Bubble Wrap Boy by Phil Earle - Free Book Online Page A

she shuffled away from the window and my guilt went with her.
    Enough of all this. I had to get to the ramp quickly, before I changed my mind.

    Dan and Stan were waiting for me, legs dangling from the top of the ramp as they chugged on cans of Red Bull. If bravery was an ingredient, then I’d buy a can or two myself because the park wasn’t quiet at all—it was packed.
    There were already a dozen kids zipping up and down the half-pipe and at least the same number practicing tricks around the pool. I felt sweat collect beneath my hoodie and tease me by sliding the length of my spine.
    My two friends didn’t look worried about it, though; they were too excited about seeing me drop in for the first time.
    “Savor this day,” said Stan dreamily.
    “Everyone remembers their first time,” agreed Dan. “No matter what happens.”
    I couldn’t quite share their excitement; my guts were threatening to empty themselves at any moment. I made a note of the distance from the ramp to the grim, derelict restroom beyond the railings.
    My nerve was failing, but I couldn’t let it show. Not now that I’d come this far.
    “I think I’ll take a little skate around first. Practice my ollie, get in the zone.”
    “Do it,” they agreed, watching as I zipped around the old kiddie pool area, confidence spreading through me as I managed the dips and rises that had been my playground, but not a patch on the monster that was the ramp.
    Slowly, the fear started to settle. As my momentum built and the board hugged my soles obediently, I reminded myself that I actually had some skills, so why shouldn’t I give the ramp a whirl? If falling was the worst thing that could happen, well, I’d done that a hundred times already and was still here. Still walking.
    Yep, this was it. It was time.
    Dan and Stan clapped their hands as we stood at the top of the half-pipe, looking down into the well before the ramp climbed again.
    “This is it, little man. Life’ll never be the same again,” Dan said with a grin.
    “And, remember, don’t try and pull any tricks,” Stan added. “The aim of the game is staying on and feeling the buzz. Get those knees flexed, use your arms to balance…and have fun.”
    I stood there, beyond fear or excitement. Every emotion possible swirled and whacked against my ribs. Nervously, I hooked the front of the board over the edge, foot on the tail, keeping me upright. My eyes focused on the ramp, I waited for a lull….
    It came seconds later, a clear path parting: it was now or never. Clumsy death or graceful glory.
    I applied pressure to the nose of the board, leaning forward with every bit of commitment I had. The ground fell away quickly, too quickly, and my panic levels grappled with the clouds above. I was falling, and in a panic pushed my weight even farther forward, feeling my guts lurch as the wall grabbed my wheels and propelled me on. Before I knew it I was climbing for the first time, wheels racing, a strange, excited, terrified howl blasting from my lips. I didn’t know if anyone else heard, and I didn’t care.
    I was doing it. Having fun. Flying. Forgetting every gibe, every loose elbow, every walk of shame I’d ever been subjected to. None of that mattered if I had this. None of it.
    I remembered the bags of Dad’s food that had balanced me for hours on end, felt the dull echo of every bruise I’d subjected my body to in practice.
    Focus,
I said to myself.
Concentrate, balance, concentrate
.
Don’t mess it up, not now
.
    I thought of Mom too, of the guilt I’d carried around about hiding this from her. How I could get rid of it all now.
    Come clean and show her. Show her she could be proud instead of afraid. I could do this. Look at me!
    Every turn became more important than the one before.
    Every bit of pressure I put on the board’s tail to rotate was measured, precise, anything but clumsy.
    At that moment, I wished I had a camera, something to preserve the moment when I was crowned king of