“I wouldn’t call a 720 conservative,” Moses says slowly, like I might be a little delusional.
“Nothing about the way you skateboard is conservative,” Lennon tells me and I hear the admiration in her tone.
I’m now swaying firmly on the confidence side, far away from imposter syndrome. As we make our way out of the water to grab some food, I know that those insecurities are losing their pull on me. It hasn’t happened overnight and maybe they will always be there on really bad days, but most of the time, I’m walking in confidence that I might actually be worthy of some of the respect and admiration from people like Lennon and Moses. People I look up to.
I was okay taking a chill weekend but now I’ve got the itch to get back after the 720 on vert. With Griff sharing his thoughts that I can do more than just show up at the X Games, that I can make a real impression, and Lennon and Moses confiding they know just what I’ve got up my sleeve, it’ll be a struggle to fight that tunnel vision the rest of the night.
Chapter Thirteen
Beck
I miss Jordan. Badly. Ever since she returned to California, our longest stretches without being together were three days while she was in classes and I was working. It’s already been three days, and I’ve got four more to go. A full week. Brutal. I said goodbye to her on Tuesday morning before she went to class and I went to work. She left for Fusion Bowl in Vancouver on Wednesday after classes and I left this morning to drive to LA for Eileen’s show. We film today, Thursday, and the show airs on Saturday. I’m staying through the weekend though so I can meet with Eileen’s girlfriend Whitney about Brazen partnering with her foundation.
It’s never fun being apart from Jordan for long, but instead of the normal annoyance that usually accompanies my foolishness for that girl, this time it’s a bit of satisfaction. Yes, that’s right, satisfaction. Over the past few weeks, or months, or who knows exactly the timing, I’ve accepted that when it comes to Jordan, I am absolutely 100% that guy. A fool. Whipped. Whatever people call it that makes it sound like a bad thing. But I know it’s not a bad thing. I’m lucky. I found my person, I’m devoted to her, and while it might cause me a bit of agony, it’s also something others spend their whole lives searching for. For Jordan and me, it’s simple. We’re happiest together.
And now here I am, sitting in an armchair beside Eileen Delarosa, cameras around us, and an audience watching. I’m not really paying attention to our surroundings though. As my younger sister informed me, Eileen will make me feel like it’s just the two of us chatting and having a nice conversation. No clue how my not-quite-seventeen-year-old sister would know this, but as usual, she was right.
“So, we’ve talked about skateboarding. We’ve talked about Brazen. Your family. Your extremely attractive best friend. What else is there?” Eileen feigns confusion as she taps her chin. “Oh! I know. Your love life.”
There’s laughter in the background, and I smile. “You do have one of those, right? A love life?”
My smile deepens. “I do. Her name is Jordan Slattery.”
“So, tell us about her. How’d you meet?”
“We met at Riptide Skatepark. It was early in the morning and both of us wanted the park to ourselves. I basically spied on her for a while before finally approaching her.”
“Spied on her? She didn’t see you?”
I didn’t talk to Jordan about how many details I’d share, but I keep the part about her falling out of it. “No, I was in my van when I spotted her and she was in the zone, skating.”
Eileen leans forward, elbows on knees, chin in hands, intensely interested.
“And then I realized she was seven years younger than me and friend-zoned her for a while.”
There’s a collective “ahhh” or “ohhhh” from the audience.
“You’re not friends anymore though, right?”
“Oh, we’re friends. But we’re also more than friends.”
“I see.” Eileen lets this sit for a moment, presumably for the viewers to speculate. “Her skateboard career is just taking off while you’re at your prime, but also, as we’ve discussed, you’re transitioning to spend time as the Vice President of Brazen. What do you see in the future for you and your more-than-friend situation with Jordan?”
I’m not sure why I’m being quite so honest here, and how Eileen manages to get me to say it. Maybe it’s because I want the world to know Jordan is it for me. “I’d marry her tomorrow if she let me.”
Eileen’s mouth drops open and I hear gasps all around us. For dramatic effect, she opens and closes her mouth like a fish a few times.
“Well Beckett, I believe you’ve broken a few hearts this evening, but I for one wish you two all the best. From what I’ve seen of your Jordan, she’s something special.”
I could easily talk about Jordan and all that makes her special, but I simply say, “She is,” with a meaningful smile. Hopefully Eileen can read my mind and understand that I’ve shared all that I want to on international television for the time being. It’s one thing to proclaim I’m all in with Jordan, but another to have to respond to more specific questions.
Eileen must know that she’s already gotten the best out of me on that subject, and easily segues to my next competition at the X Games, where Jordan will also be competing in her first X Games.
After the show wraps up, I spend some time talking to people in the audience and the crew. Griff and I brought our sisters, and we take them out for dinner in downtown LA. I’m expecting some questions about my declaration that I’m ready to marry Jordan, but I guess I didn’t take this group by surprise because it doesn’t come up. It’s hard to stay in the moment, since I’m checking my phone every few minutes for texts or calls from Jordan. We head back to our hotel, and the girls want to hit up the pool, so Griff agrees to go with them to supervise. I might head down too, but I’m still hoping to touch base with Jordan.
Griff slaps a hand on my back as he leaves our room. “She made it to the finals tomorrow, man. I’m sure she figured you were at the show and tied up.”
“I wasn’t worried she didn’t make the finals, I knew she would.” Some guys would be embarrassed to be called out on their frantic phone checking, but I’m way past that. I don’t bother telling him that I’d expect at least a goodnight text before bedtime, but we did talk earlier today. I check the time and shoot her one in case she’s still awake.
Call if you’re still up. Miss you.
My phone rings not five seconds later.
“Hey Hotshot,” I answer.
“Uh, Beck?” That’s not Jordan’s voice.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Camila.” I pull the phone from my ear to confirm it’s Jordan’s number and that I wasn’t imagining it.
“What are you doing on Jordan’s phone?”
“A bunch of us girls went out after the prelims today. We’re at a bar and she left her phone. I didn’t have her passcode to get in and call you and no one else has her number. If you know where she’s staying I can bring it to her.”