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It’s that time of day where the sun has disappeared below the horizon, but the sky hasn’t completely darkened yet. The summer temperature has finally dropped to a comfortable level. A cool breeze rustles the trees and tickles Minjeong’s bangs as she walks the streets, skateboard tucked under her arm.
It’s not her skateboard. In fact, she’s never stepped foot on one in her life.
Lately, she’s been getting into skateboarding videos. Ever since that one clip popped up on her Instagram explore page, she’s been hooked. Awe at the seemingly effortless tricks they perform on camera. Admiration at their dedication, even after countless falls. And a fierce jealousy at how cool they look, just by stepping foot onto the thing.
Minjeong wants to be that cool someday.
It took her almost an hour of searching through her brother’s stuff. After he moved out, he left most of his childhood things in his room. She found the skateboard in his closet. It’s neon green, with wheels that light up when they spin. It doesn’t look as cool as the ones in the videos, but a skateboard is a skateboard, and Minjeong is willing to take whatever she can get.
Because she’s on a mission tonight.
She stops at a flat section of road that passes under a bridge. The entire road is empty, punctuated by the occassional rumble of a car passing overhead. It’s only dimly lit by streetlights, so anyone walking past won’t be able to see when she inevitably fails. It’s the perfect place to practice her nonexistent skills so she can finally up her coolness level.
She places the skateboard on the ground. There’s a pointed end and a more rounded end. She wonders which end is supposed to be the front. Despite all the videos she’s watched, she has no idea.
Deciding it’s a fifty-fifty chance, she points the sharper end down the street before nervously putting a foot onto the board.
The board isn’t solid; it seems to lean from side to side when she presses down hard. She has no idea if this particular skateboard is just old and rickety, or if all skateboards are this way. Even with her other foot still planted on the pavement, she can barely keep her balance.
She looks down at herself, right foot clumsily on the board with her arms stretched out for balance. She realizes how ridiculous she must look.
Here goes, she thinks anyway.
Before she can overthink it even more, she pushes off with her other foot and the skateboard rattles along the pavement.
Minjeong realizes a second too late that she has no idea how to control the direction of the thing. The skateboard weaves wildly across the pavement, wheels rattling loudly, and she has to jump off to avoid a crash. The skateboard flies off without her, the wheels flashing neon lights, and collides with a low wall before coming to a stop.
Minjeong stares at the beat-up board, realizing how stupid and amateurish she must look. Giving up flashes through her mind, although she’s barely been on the board for five seconds.
But then her brain conjures up a mental image of herself, riding the skateboard on the sidewalk, making it look as effortless as breathing, while Jimin watches admiringly from the sidelines, and her determination comes back, stronger than ever.
She looks at the skateboard again.
She has a lot of work to do.
Minjeong has no idea how much time has passed. She’s hot and sweaty. She’s lost count of the times she’s fallen off the board. Speaking of the board, it’s crashed so many times that one of the wheels have actually stopped lighting up.
But she’s made progress. Trial and error, driven by the determination to impress Jimin, has made her into a machine. She can stay on the board without losing her balance. She can steer the board while it’s moving. She’s even discovered how to press down on the tail end to stop her momentum.
The sky is completely dark now, and the road is only illuminated by a single streetlight. Despite the darkness and the quickly dropping temperature, Minjeong has never felt so energized in her life.
She retrieves the board and points it down the street. In one fluid motion, she steps onto the deck and pushes off, and the gliding sensation she’s worked so hard for is almost euphoric.
The wind blows through her bangs and cools her sweaty face. She lifts her chin, imagining how cool she must look, if anyone were watching her.
A sudden white flash from behind surprises her, almost blinding in the darkness, and her concentration is immediately shattered. She loses her balance and stumbles off the board, barely catching it with her foot in time to stop it from shooting away, and whips around. Maybe it was a flash of headlights, from a car passing by?
The light is still on, and Minjeong’s blinded by it. She can only see the silhouette of a person, pointing a phone camera right at her. Suddenly Minjeong becomes aware of how dark it’s gotten, how silent the area is, and a bolt of fear grips her.
The person lowers the phone, pointing the flashlight to the ground, and Minjeong recognizes them in a rush of relief.
“Jimin! What are you doing here?!”
Skateboard forgotten, she rushes at the older girl, ready to slap her on the arm.
Jimin dodges away easily. “I could ask you the same thing! I’ve been calling you for the past twenty minutes! What are you doing out here by yourself in the dark? With a skateboard?”
“I—“ There’s no way she can say ‘So I could impress you with my swag skateboarding skills.’ Minjeong only stands there, embarrassment heating her cheeks and hoping it’s too dark for Jimin to see them.
Jimin reaches out and pulls Minjeong closer by the sleeve. Her hand runs quickly over her elbows, confirming that she’s not wearing any padding. “What’re you doing out here without any protective gear?!”
(Minjeong decides it’s best to stay quiet about the multiple grazes she’s gotten on her elbows and knees already.)
“You could’ve gotten injured!” Jimin continues, almost like a mother hen. Then she unexpectedly changes her tone completely. “I didn’t know you could skateboard.”
Minjeong squints at her face in the dim light, but can’t make out her expression. She decides to just go for it.
“Wanna see?” she offers.
“Okay,” Jimin nods. Minjeong goes to pick up the forgotten skateboard, heart pounding, because she’d never live it down if she messed this up.
She positions the skateboard nose-first down the street, takes a deep breath, and pushes off.
It’s perfect, the best one she’s had yet. She glides past Jimin and even pulls off a nice 90 degree turn at the end, coming to a stop as she faces Jimin.
She can’t hide the huge grin on her face at her success as she picks up the board and trots back to Jimin.
“Wow,” Jimin says as she gets closer.
“What do you think? Was I cool?” Minjeong blurts out eagerly, then realizes a moment too late that she shouldn’t have said that last part.
Jimin’s nose scrunches cutely as she giggles. “Cool?”
“Hey! Admit it, I was cool!” Minjeong argues.
Jimin’s laughing too hard to answer. “You were about as cool as a baby rabbit!”
Embarrassed and angry, Minjeong doesn’t say anything, instead just looking down at the stupid green skateboard in her hands. Jimin will never think I’m cool. I’m such an idiot.
“Hey, jagi.” Jimin’s voice brings her back. She glances up to see Jimin’s soft eyes looking into hers.
“I think you need more practice on that thing first,” Jimin says gently.
Minjeong pouts. “I practiced real hard! I just wanted to impress you,” she adds under her breath.
“Impress me?” Jimin’s hand brushes her bangs aside. “Jagi, you’re perfect just the way you are. You’re my fluffy puppy, and I love you even if your coolness levels are down in the negatives. You don’t need to prove yourself to me with a skateboard.”
Minjeong looks up in surprise. Jimin’s eyes are wide and sincere. She means every word of it.
“I just wanted to be cool,” she whispers, but her heart’s not in it anymore. The childish determination she felt earlier is gone. Was I really trying that hard?
Jimin likes me just the way I am.
Jimin simply drops her head and plants a kiss on Minjeong’s nose, who breaks out in a smile.
“Should we go home now?” she murmurs, warm breath ruffling Minjeong’s hair.
Minjeong nods obediently, fumbling in the darkness to find and hold Jimin’s warm hand.
“Wait. Did you take a photo of me earlier?”
“Yeah. Want to see it?” Jimin pulls out her phone and brings up the photo. The snap is blurry, the distant lights of the buildings merging with the dark night sky in the background. Minjeong sees herself, a blurry figure with face hidden from the camera, wearing that oversized shirt with the smiley faces that she stole from Jimin’s closet. She has one foot on the skateboard, her movement freeze-framed in the photo, and as Minjeong stares at the tiny screen, she realizes something.
“Hey, don’t you think I look pretty cool in this photo?”
Jimin stares at the photo for a moment, then looks at Minjeong, the tiniest trace of a fond smile dancing on her lips.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”