Grace stood on her board barefoot, face to face with Holland, who was standing on the ground. She was lifted about four inches up by her board, and he couldn't help but smile as he turned his own on.
She leaned forward as he started running beside her, then threw his board and jumped on. They were racing home today, and she was winning.
Grace turned around to look for him, but he wasn't there. When she turned back, she was losing. He had jumped over her while she wasn't looking.
She groaned as she crouched low on her board and shot forward, almost loosing her grip. Holland was laughing now, knowing he was going to beat her again.
He didn't turn like she always did; his view was focused on the gate, their finish line.
Grace was smaller than he was, so she had less resistance, but Holland was older and more experienced. While Grace constantly fell over and tripped, Holland was graceful on his long legs. Holland had a lingering knee injury, and Grace was in perfect health. They were equal as they flew through the air on the trapar waves.
Grace squatted low on her board and sped up as she gained height and aimed to go over Holland's seventeen-year-old head. She stood when she was just above him, and then rapidly fell onto her board, shooting forward like a bullet.
Holland heard her and shot his hand upward, catching her board just as it went over his head. The inertia that Grace had betrayed her; she fell forward off her board and toward the ground rapidly. She covered her face with her arms and waited for the impact.
Holland let her board fall to the ground and caught her in his arms, barely missing a beat. On instinct, Grace linked her arms around his neck. When she opened her eyes, Holland was setting her down on his board and pulling her close to him as she spread her arms to keep balance.
Grace shifted her weight to turn the board around, and her best friend moved with her. They moved as one as they maneuvered over the landscape back towards Grace's board.
When they got to it, Grace hopped off, stumbling as she touched the ground. Holland laughed as he stepped off and ran his hand through his hair. She looked at him and smiled.
"I can't believe you," She spat.
His eyebrows pulled together above his nose. "Why?"
"Two reasons." She squatted next to her orange board. "One: You race dirty." He laughed shortly. "Two: You're eighteen in two days." Her voice dropped when she spoke it, and he knew she was upset.
The air between them filled with silence as Grace's board lifted into the air and she stepped on. As she glided by him, Holland grabbed her wrist. She stopped and looked into his too-calm eyes.
"Come over tonight. I need to tell you something." His words were soft yet blunt. His eyes matched it.
She managed a nod, knowing something she wasn't going to like was about to happen.
When he released her, she was gone in a flash, racing him to the gate. She won of course.
She went home then, not stopping at all until she reached the door. When she did, she stepped off her board and opened the door as quietly as she could. Her roommate would still be in bed, hung over from the previous night.
She closed the door, her board under her arm, and turned around. Julie was standing behind her, a bag of ice on her head and a scowl on her face.
"Where the hell have you been?" She asked calmly.
Grace froze. She noticed the bruise under Julie's right eye. "With Holland. What happened?"
She shrugged. "You didn't hear me fall down the steps this morning?"
Grace laughed, shook her head, and ran up the steps, two at a time. She walked down the hall and into her room, where she set an alarm for seven o'clock, and fell asleep.
Eight hours later, her alarm blared into a dreamless sleep. She got up, changed her clothes, and lifted out of her window and to Holland Novak.