Chapter Text
Rain beat down steadily out on the streets. Langa momentarily stopped sweeping and stared out the windows of Dope Sketch. People hurried past with their suit jackets pulled over their heads or held their hands up in a futile attempt to shield themselves from the rain. The overcast sky dimmed the colors of the outside world, but that certainly wasn’t the case inside the shop. Langa pushed the broom around and glanced over in Reki’s direction. Everything was bright about Reki, from his hair to his clothes, but he had an inner glow to him too and a warmth that sometimes stole his breath away.
Reki sat behind the register, huddled over his notebook and muttering to himself. He wrote something out, reread it, and erased it. Feeling Langa’s eyes on him, he looked up, saw the affectionate look on his face, and smiled. People who didn’t know better thought Langa only had one or two expressions, but Reki knew him better than that. He could read every little quirk of the mouth and softening of the eye.
“Like what you see?” he teased.
Langa laughed softly and swept up imaginary dust. “Don’t be so full of yourself. I wasn’t thinking about you.”
“What were you thinking about then?”
Langa looked up thoughtfully. “I was thinking that I never collected my prize after beating you in our last race.”
Reki tapped his pencil against his notebook and looked around. Oka was on break, Sketchy was sleeping, and the rain outside was so heavy that they hadn’t had any customers in all afternoon. It was looking less and less likely that anyone would come in to pick up a deck or shop for any accessories.
“Hey, Langa?”
“What is it?”
Reki pulled out the chair next time him and patted it invitingly. “Come here a minute.”
Langa tilted his head to one side and smiled playfully. “For what?”
“Your prize,” Reki said with a wink.
Langa propped the broom against a corner, walked over to the register, and sat down. He scooted the chair closer until his knees were nearly touching Reki’s and leaned forward. Reki cupped Langa’s face between his hands and spread his fingers across his cheeks. Langa’s face went pink beneath his fingertips and he dropped his gaze down for a moment, then looked back up with a bashful smile. Reki’s eyes lit up and he pressed a brief, sweet kiss against Langa’s mouth. The two broke apart and giggled nervously.
“I still can’t believe I can do this with you,” Reki breathed with a grin.
“Me neither,” Langa said with a contented sigh. “Can you . . . um . . .?”
Reki’s expression softened with affection. “Finish your sentence,” he said, his voice light and teasing.
Embarrassed, Langa shut his eyes and whispered, “Kiss me again.”
Laughing, Reki closed his eyes, tilted his head, and kissed him again. Langa made a little sound of surprise and hesitantly wrapped his arms around Reki’s waist. Reki’s hands dropped down to his shoulders and skimmed his back, sending delicious shivers up Langa’s spine. He leaned closer, meaning to deepen their kiss, but then the door rattled open. With a start, the two broke apart and Langa jumped up to retrieve the broom. Reki slapped his face a few times and flashed his best employee of the week smile.
“Welcome to . . . Huh?”
A gust of wind sent the door closing with a bang. Puzzled, Reki walked over to the door, held it open, and looked around for any potential customers, but only a haggard woman holding a bag overflowing with groceries walked past.
“Just the wind,” he said and pulled the door shut. Frowning thoughtfully, he leaned over one of the displays and stared at the sheets of rain running down the windows. “Storm looks like it’s getting pretty bad out there.”
Langa joined Reki at the window. “At least you have an umbrella.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s gonna do any good today. Man, and I’m supposed to go grocery shopping too. This sucks.”
Neither one noticed Sketchy waking up from his nap. The little fox padded over to his food bowl, saw it was empty, and jumped up on the register counter. With a growl, he started tearing up Reki’s notebook.
Hearing Sketchy’s growling, Reki turned and rushed back to the register. He yanked his notebook away and slapped a hand on the counter. “Knock it off, Sketchy!”
Sketchy barked and bit his hand. Reki yanked his hand away with a yelp and dropped his notebook. Langa dropped the broom and hurried over to Reki’s side.
“Let me see,” he said and took Reki’s hand. The bite was small and hadn’t broken the skin. Like most of Sketchy’s bites, it was just a warning one. “Looks okay. Why do you think he’s so mad?”
Sketchy jumped off the counter and scratched on the door of the break room until Oka opened it. Noticing the empty food bowl, he sighed and asked, “Who’s turn was it to feed Sketchy?”
Reki glanced at the schedule on the register counter and laughed nervously. “Uh, lemme just . . .”
Trailing off, he ducked under the counter, measured out a scoop of food, and dropped it in Sketchy’s bowl. Sketchy shot him an approximation of a glare and noisily started eating.
Langa picked up Reki’s notebook and tried to read what he’d written. Most of the characters were still unfamiliar to him, but he recognized the two that spelled out Koyomi’s name.
“What’s this for?” he asked when Reki returned to the register counter.
Reki took the notebook, pulled out some tape, and started repairing the tears that Sketchy had made. “It’s for Koyomi. She wants to start skating on ramps at the park, but I’m not sure she’s ready yet.”
Curious, Oka walked over to the counter and peered down at Reki’s notes. “What’s wrong with Koyomi-chan? I thought she was doing great.”
“She’s better than great, but she’s been kinda chickenfooted lately. She was getting the hang of jumping over short stair sets, but she hasn’t been able to jump over anything lately. She either freezes up and stops or doesn’t commit enough and bails ‘cause her feet don’t land at the same time. Same with a rolling ollie or strawberry milkshake—”
“Strawberry milkshake?” Langa echoed with interest. “That’s a trick? Why’s it called that?”
Reki shrugged. “Beats me. She learned it on her own. It’s her favorite trick and she’s really good at it too! She can add some height to it and lands cleanly almost every time . . . except when she can’t because there’s a twig on the ground.”
“She’s probably just afraid of getting hurt,” Oka said. “Did you get her any protective gear?”
Reki finished taping the notebook together and put away the tape dispenser. “Yeah, but she doesn’t wanna wear any. Says if I don’t wear them, then why should she?”
Oka sighed and folded his arms. “I really feel sorry for your parents, Reki. They’ve got two kids who refuse to protect themselves while participating in a sport where getting hurt is basically guaranteed.”
Reki rolled his eyes. “Don’t be. They’re actually kinda thrilled about it. They think it’s nice that I’m spending so much time with my sisters.”
Langa studied the sketches of half ramps and funboxes and tried to decipher Reki’s notes with marginal success. He turned the page, saw a sketch of a step-up, and thought of the first time he’d seen Reki grind across the edge of one.
“Maybe she needs a friend,” he suggested. “Someone her age who also skates and can encourage her. It’s easier to take a risk when you’ve got a friend backing you up.”
“A friend her age, huh?” Reki murmured thoughtfully. “Her best friend doesn’t skate. Nanaka and Chihiro are still too little . . .”
“She’s close to Miya’s age, isn’t she?” Langa said. “Why don’t you ask him?”
Reki shot him a look of disbelief. “You really think Miya’s the type to befriend someone to encourage them?”
Langa tilted his head thoughtfully. “Don’t ask him to be her friend then. Ask him to coach her or something. Besides, it might be good for Miya too. He still doesn’t have any friends his own age, does he?”
“No, not as far as I know. Well, I guess it’s worth a shot. Should I text him or just ask him in person?”
“In person might be better. We’re gonna see him on Saturday, right?”
Reki grinned and ruffled Langa’s hair. “Right! For your not-so-secret surprise birthday party.”
Oka retrieved a clipboard from the register and shook his head good-humoredly. “Isn’t the point of a surprise party to keep it a surprise?”
Langa smiled. “I don’t mind. And Reki’s not good at keeping secrets anyway.”
“Hey, I am too!” Reki protested. “You know I’ve been sitting on a major secret and I’ve been dying to tell the whole world about it, but only your mom knows so far.”
Langa smushed Reki’s face between his hands and laughed. “Yeah, I know.”
“A major secret?” Oka asked and raised his eyebrows. “What, did you finally manage to win against Langa?”
“Not exactly,” Reki said as he exchanged a nervous glance with Langa. “What do you think if . . . this Saturday . . .?”
Blushing lightly, Langa scratched the back of his head and nodded slowly. “Yeah. This Saturday.”
Confused, Oka stared at them for a moment and turned his attention back to the paperwork on the clipboard. “. . .Okay then. You’re gonna have to tell me what this secret is on Monday since I won’t be able to make it to your birthday party, Langa. Gotta deal with some car maintenance.” He turned to the page detailing customer information and frowned thoughtfully. “Hey, Miya was supposed to come in today to pick up his board. He said he’d come right after school, but I haven’t seen him. Have you?”
Langa shook his head and checked his phone. “Haven’t seen him. No messages either.”
Reki looked out the window as a bolt of lightning lit up the dark sky. “Hopefully he just went straight home. It’s too rainy today.”
—
Miya ran down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians and accidentally stepping in several puddles. Rain splashed over his shoes, soaking his socks, but he didn’t slow down until he’d turned a corner. Breathing hard, he ducked under a store awning and wiped his face with the sleeve of his uniform. His reflection stared back at him in the store window. His cheeks were red from both exertion and the shock of what he’d seen at Dope Sketch.
They were kissing. They were definitely kissing. Why were they kissing?
Miya exhaled slowly and shook rainwater off his umbrella. His shock slowly morphed into sad confusion. He’d only opened the door for a split second and, in a panic, had turned around and run away without saying anything.
Why didn’t they tell me? Is it because I’m just a kid? Do the others know?
Though he would never in a million years admit it, Miya considered Reki and Langa to be the two big brothers he’d never had. They’d always treated him as an equal, never a kid, so the fact that they were apparently going out and hadn’t told him really stung.
Did they think I wouldn’t understand?
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Miya gritted his teeth, turned on his heel and started walking in the direction of the rail station.
Whatever. Let them keep secrets and make stupid kissy faces at each other. I don’t care.
A flash of lightning streaked across the sky and rain started pouring heavily. Miya hurried blindly ahead, trying to outrun both the rain and his own hurt feelings. He stepped in a puddle and his foot caught in a crack. The umbrella flew out of his hands and he fell hard on his knees with a yelp.
“Damn it!”
Shivering, he rose on one knee and looked around for his umbrella. A shadow fell over him and rain stopped soaking through his clothes. Surprised, Miya turned and saw a pair of yellow shoes, then two bruised knees crouching down, and the face of a girl with amber eyes and a bandage on her chin. Rain fell over her face and Miya realized she was holding her umbrella out to shield him.
“Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” the girl asked and held out her free hand. “Need some help?”
“No, thanks,” Miya said and stood up. He found his umbrella stuck inside out under a placard advertising lunch specials and yanked it free. “I’m fine.”
"You sure?" the girl asked. "Your knees are bleeding.”
Scowling, Miya focused on trying to pop his umbrella back into its original shape and pointedly ignored the throbbing pain in his knees. “It’s fine.”
Looking unconvinced, the girl motioned for Miya to follow her and stand under the eave of a building. She took out a packet of tissues and a few bandages from her pocket and held them out. “Here. Clean your knees so the bandages stick.”
Miya very nearly yelled at her to go away and leave him alone, but he wasn’t having any luck with his umbrella, so he took the bandages and tissue packet. The girl took his umbrella and held her arm up to shield them both from the rain. Miya cleaned off his knees with the tissues as best he could, then ripped open the bandages and stuck them on the cuts.
“Happy now?” he said and tossed the trash in a nearby can.
The girl snorted. “You’re kind of a grouch, aren’t you? Anyway, where are you headed? Bus stop or rail station?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Your umbrella’s broken and you’re gonna catch a cold if you walk without one in this downpour, so I thought I could walk you to where you needed to go.”
“What about you?”
The girl smiled. “My brother works around here and I know he’s got an umbrella. Our mom makes him carry one all the time. He has to do the grocery shopping today, so I thought I’d surprise him and help him out.”
Miya looked away and thought of stomping off again. He wasn’t very comfortable being pitied by this strange girl, but he was cold and wet and miserable and really just wanted to get home without getting even more waterlogged.
“You don’t need to do that. The rail station’s only a few minutes away from here.”
“Rail station it is,” the girl said cheerily. “Let’s go.”
Humming, the girl handed Miya his broken umbrella and started walking. Miya hesitated for a moment, then followed her and noticed the skateboard strapped to her school bag. The grip tape was clear, revealing a red deck dotted with black specks that reminded him of a strawberry skin. The underside was well-worn and he could just about see the graphic of a huge, dewy-eyed strawberry winking at him.
“You skate?” he asked.
The girl nodded. “Yup! You?”
“Yeah.”
Miya watched the girl's eyes light up with unbridled delight. There was something familiar about those sparkly eyes and that sunny grin, but he couldn't quite place it.
“Awesome!” the girl exclaimed. “Hey, what park do you skate at?”
“A few different ones,” Miya said with a vague gesture of his hands.
“Maybe I’ll run into you one day. I was gonna skate today, but then all this rain happened. Ugh, what a pain. I hate being unable to skate.”
“Maybe you should try an indoor park,” Miya suggested.
The girl made a face. “Skating outside’s better though. You can’t feel the sun on your face when you skate indoors.”
Miya held out a hand and rainwater instantly pooled in his palm. “You can’t feel the sun on your face today anyway.”
The girl laughed. “That’s true. Ah, I really hope it doesn’t rain all this week.”
At the rail station entrance, the girl grabbed Miya’s hand and wrapped his fingers around her umbrella handle.
“Hey, I can’t take your umbrella!”
Laughing, the girl pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and ran off. “Too late! Take care!”
Startled, Miya watched her run off and disappear through a crowd of people. He turned and walked up to the station platform. At the turnstile, he tapped his fare card and sat down on a bench to wait for the train. He threw his broken umbrella in the trash, closed the girl’s umbrella, and studied the peeling pink band-aids on his knees.
I forgot to ask her for her name.