Roller Boy

by Strykowski, Marcia; Strykowski, Marcia;

  He hesitated.

  “You’re not scared, are you?” she mocked.

  He made a face. “Scared of what?”

  She laughed. “My parents.”

  Mateo made the call, saying he’d be home by eight, and yes, he had a ride. Then he hung up before Mamá could start worrying about him roaming the streets on his own.

  By the time the three of them left the building again, the gang had split. The cops must have scared them off. Ted waited with them until Hayley’s mom arrived. Mateo kept right beside Hayley, feeling like the whole thing was his fault. Those guys had probably never hung out near the rink until he’d led them there.

  Chapter 18

  Hayley’s mom pulled up in a big blue car. She looked TV beautiful and Mateo immediately felt like a creep because he remembered seeing her face before, when he’d been snooping through Hayley’s online photographs. She and Ted exchanged a few words before Ted drove off.

  “Hi, sweetie,” she said to Hayley as the kids climbed into the car. To Mateo she said, “I’m Mrs. Nickerson.” Hayley’s mother flashed a smile and extended her polished fingernails toward him. He quickly wiped off his hand on the side of his pants and shook hers over the back of the car seat. Then he matted his hair down and thought too late that maybe he should have yanked up his jeans before getting into the car. Hayley’s mom looked like the kind of mother who didn’t miss much and he felt grubby under her gaze.

  He knew Hayley lived over the bridge in what most people considered to be the better part of the city. And with her being an only child, he pictured her house like some giant mansion. As he imagined, Hayley’s place was nice, really nice. A neat lawn led up to the front entrance of a fancy condo building.

  “Come in, come in,” said Hayley’s mom, as she ushered them up the walkway. “Dad’s just getting the steaks off the grill and then we can sit down.”

  Mateo followed Hayley to the sink where they washed up, then to the dining room. He noticed the kitchen counters as they passed by. They were spotless, no gluten-filled crumbs anywhere.

  Big platters of food were already set out. Hayley’s father rose from a chair and stretched out his hand. Feeling like he was in a time warp, Mateo shook it, his own hand still damp. Mr. Nickerson was pale and blond just like the rest of the family. The four of them sat around a big, oval table, and outside their attempt at conversation, you could have heard a pin drop. No radios, TVs, or even fans made noise in this house.

  Hayley’s mother cleared her throat. “How long have you been skating, Mateo?”

  He stopped trying to slice his steak as though he knew what he was doing, and looked up at her. “Only a few months,” he said. “Six or seven.” He was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute. At school and other places, he always tried to blend in, but here he stuck out like a chunk of chocolate that had fallen into a bag of marshmallows.

  “Oh, Hayley’s been skating for years.” She looked at her daughter. “It must be almost nine years now, isn’t it sweetie?”

  “I guess so,” said Hayley. She smoothed butter onto her ear of corn.

  “Do you like skating, Mateo?” asked Hayley’s father.

  “Yeah, I mean yes. It’s good.” Well, that sounded really enthusiastic. The Nickersons probably wondered why he bothered.

  “Mateo’s a great skater,” said Hayley. “He learns really fast.”

  Mateo glanced at Hayley’s mom to see what she thought of that, but she didn’t seem to be listening and instead was already forming a new question.

  “Now, you don’t eat gluten, Mateo, right?” she said, obviously wanting more information.

  He nodded. “It makes me sick.”

  “Well, rest assured, everything is gluten free, except for the rolls, of course.” She gave a nervous chuckle. “The home fries are from a frozen package, but I checked the ingredients carefully.”

  “Great, thank you.” He had been holding off, but now helped himself to some of the fries. They were delicious.

  Hayley’s dad talked about baseball for a while, so that was cool, and easy enough. Mateo wasn’t as touchy about the subject now that he had skating to keep him busy.

  After they finished eating, they watched part of the news in the living room. About a half hour later, Mateo stood up and said, “I’ve got to get going.” He turned to Hayley’s parents. “Thanks for having me.”

  It made him feel really good that he’d gotten through the evening without messing up—as Ava would say, he’d been the perfect little gentleman.

  “Anytime,” said her dad. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to figure out the subway after promising his mother he was all set.

  Hayley walked with him to the front entrance. He was almost out the door when this horrible, painful rumbling

  began, deep in the pit of his stomach. Nausea swept over him. “I need your bathroom.” Mateo pushed past Hayley, back into the house and made it into the bathroom just in time. Thank goodness the television was making enough noise to cover up his own gross sounds. As he reached over to crack the window open, he caught sight of his pale face in the mirror. Hopefully the fresh air would revive him.

  “Are you okay, Mateo?” Hayley’s voice came from the other side of the door.

  “I’m fine, just a minute.” He splashed water on his face. His gut ached. It had been ages since this had happened, but he knew right off he’d been glutened. He took a deep breath and slunk back out.

  “What’s wrong?” said Hayley. “Was it our food?”

  “I’m okay; could have been anything.” He moved along fast to get her away from the bathroom.

  Hayley’s mom appeared in the hallway, a concerned look on her face. “I rinsed everything off before I set the table.”

  “Thanks; you did great. I’m good.” When he had been in the kitchen earlier, watching Hayley get ice for their water, he’d seen the home fries bag in the freezer. He’d have to look them up when he got home, although it really could have been anything. Maybe the steak had been seasoned with something weird, or the corn-cobs had been touched after the rolls, or maybe it had been those delicious potatoes. Even if the ingredients were okay, they could have been processed in a facility that handled wheat. At home, they stuck to products that had the GF certified emblem on them. His mood sank low. Oh, well. He guessed he’d be a dinner guest to remember.

  “I’m so sorry, Mateo,” Hayley said once more as they reached the doorway.

  “Are you kids coming?” asked her dad from the front steps.

  With a sour taste in his mouth, and nonstop pains in his gut, Mateo got his sorry soul into the back seat of the car. He’d have to walk to the rink the next day and rescue his bike.

  When Mateo reached home—fifteen minutes early—the door flung open before he hit the top step. Mamá pulled him in and almost suffocated him.

  “What’s up, Ma?” he said in a strangled voice.

  “It is dark out there. Too many sirens.” Mamá released him. “And then a big boom, maybe a drive-by.” She smothered him again.

  “They didn’t get me this time,” he said, forcing a grin to make her less worried.

  “From now on, you get home early. Or you do not go out at all.”

  He nodded and let her hang on to him for a couple more minutes.

  After a few days, Mateo felt back to normal: no more stomach and head pains. He never did figure out whether it was those frozen potatoes that did him in. He’d avoid them from now on, though, that was for sure. He tried not to think about what he’d done to his gut; for the most part he’d given up worrying about his insides, long ago. Mamá did enough worrying for both of them.

  Chapter 19

  The following Sunday, Mateo brought his math book with him to the rink. If they had a break, he’d work on his
long division before the quiz at school on Monday. Hayley was there ahead of him, reading a mystery novel. He put his stuff down on a bench and laced up his skates.

  “Okay, kids,” said Ted. “Let’s get out there. Today we’ll be adding in the lift.”

  Mateo inwardly groaned. Sure, he could probably pick Hayley up, but on skates? What if he dropped her?

  “You’ll be skating backwards,” Ted continued.

  “Great,” he said under his breath.

  “Don’t worry, Mateo. You won’t be throwing her around, just a simple waist pick-up. This doesn’t go with the tango, so it won’t be in the competition. We’re just trying it out for fun.”

  Fun. Mateo laughed out loud at the word, but then matched his face to the others’ serious looks. Ted didn’t seem to remember that Mateo wasn’t planning to compete in the bigger meet even though he’d already told him the one local event had been enough for him.

  First they tried the lift standing still. As Mateo hoisted Hayley up, she grabbed his wrists. This gave both of them better support. He could tell she’d been lifted before. He put her up higher, so that the back of her shoulders were just above his head.

  “Good, stop there,” said Ted. “That’s right about where you want to be for now. Practice the move a few more times to smooth it out and then we’ll do it skating slowly backwards.”

  Mateo couldn’t believe it—thirty minutes later he was skating and lifting at the same time, like an old pro. His arms would probably scream at him the next day, but for now he felt big and strong for a change.

  “Really good work today,” said Ted. “Take a break, Mateo.”

  He skated over to the bench and pulled his math book out of his backpack. He had to stick around in case Ted wanted to run through their duet again after he finished with Hayley’s solo number. But most of all Mateo needed to get math into his brain before tomorrow’s test. He’d been keeping up his grades, but he needed to do better in math to keep them that way.

  He was concentrating so hard, he didn’t notice Hayley coasting off the floor until, with a rumbling scrape of wheels, she stopped abruptly, right in front of him.

  “Whatcha got there?” she said.

  He sighed. “Long division. Hey, aren’t you still practicing?” Time couldn’t have flown that fast. It usually stood still when he struggled with math.

  “Ted had to take a phone call.” Hayley bent her head to peer at his book. A long strand of glossy blond hair danced over the page. “I remember learning this stuff. Which problem are you stuck on?”

  He pointed out the work in his notebook. “Something’s off. It doesn’t add up.” He was so used to using a calculator for these kinds of problems, that he’d never really learned how to do them the old-fashioned way, but this year the teacher was forcing them to learn everything over again step by step.

  “Here, I’ll show you a trick.” Hayley spun around and landed on the bench beside him. She had a fresh fruity smell, maybe of strawberry-scented shampoo. “Give me your pencil,” she said. “See, you’ve just got to bring the decimal up and stick it in here. Once you’ve got it set up right, everything falls into place.” Hayley whipped through the rest of the problem.

  Mateo’s mouth fell open. He’d been tearing his hair out over what she’d done in two seconds. “Are you like, just good at everything?”

  Hayley laughed.

  “Hey guys!” said a familiar voice.

  He looked up to see Ava coming toward them. Mateo grinned at her and took the opportunity to slide over even closer to Hayley. “Hey, how’d you get in here?”

  “Door wasn’t locked. Just thought I’d come by and see how you’re doing.” Ava plopped down onto the bench beside him. “Long time no see, Hayley. Are you keeping my bro out of trouble?”

  “Definitely. You’ve got to see us skate together.” Hayley gave him a light punch in his shoulder. “Come on, Mateo. Let’s show Ava.”

  He got up and sent Ava a warning look, meaning: Don’t make fun of me. Then he and Hayley lined up and took off into the tango. Since there wasn’t music playing, they sped up and flew around the rink. He felt stupid in front of Ava. He pointed his nose in the air and exaggerated a snotty tango face.

  “Oh, my gosh,” said Ava, missing his attempts at humor. “You guys look great!”

  Ted called out to Hayley and she went back to her lesson on the other side of the rink.

  “I wish Mamá could see you, Mateo,” said Ava.

  “Don’t go there,” he said. “You know she’s not into this whole skating business.”

  “She’s just worried about school. If she could see you, she might come around.” Then Ava elbowed Mateo. She wore a big sloppy grin.

  “What?” he said, scrunching up his own face, confused.

  “Hayley.”

  “Yeah, what about her?”

  “She likes you.”

  “Aw, come on,” he said. “Give it up.”

  “I can tell by the way she looks at you when you’re not looking back.”

  Mateo turned and spent some time stuffing his math book into his bag. Ava had always been pretty good at noticing things. He thought again about the time Hayley kissed his cheek after he’d found her skates. Maybe she really did like him as more than just a skating partner.

  Chapter 20

  As the weeks went by, Ted talked more and more about the upcoming Bellingham Regionals event. Including several states, this meet was a much bigger deal than the Rollins one had been. Mateo was still not planning to compete, even though by now he was a strong, fast skater and had several awesome jumps down. Many of the basic moves they practiced were the same as in his first meet, although they had switched to the Batman theme song and added a few steps to match the music.

  “I know you’re not sure about all this, Mateo,” Ted said one day, “but I think you’re ready. If you skip this next meet you might never go back. Don’t you want to show off your new moves?”

  Mateo let out a silent sigh and prepared to explain his reasons for the tenth time.

  But before Mateo began speaking, Ted took a not-so-

  silent, in fact a downright loud breath and then looked away from Mateo with a guilty expression. “Okay, okay, this is what I did. I signed you up for Regionals.” Ted looked like the cat who swallowed the cockroach, or however that saying goes. “So we wouldn’t miss the deadline,” he added.

  “Wait. What? You signed me up?” Mateo clearly remembered that sleepless night before the last meet and how his legs had shaken before and after the big fall that caused him to come in last place. He doubted the thrill of skating was worth striking out again.

  “I’ll give you a few more days. If you don’t want to do it, we’ll unregister you. If you do decide to humor an old man, then we’re all set,” said Ted. He spread his hands out apologetically, his shoulders looking narrow and hunched instead of in his usual ramrod posture.

  Mateo thought about how much work they’d put into their routines and how Hayley would have to compete on her own. If he joined her, they’d get to do their tango. He looked down at his black, professional-looking skates. Maybe it would be worth it. And after more time passed, it might be harder to remember how freaked out he’d been at the last meet. What’s a little leg shaking, anyway? “I’ll do it,” he said.

  “What’s that?” Ted put his hand to his ear.

  “I’ll do it,” Mateo said louder.

  “You sure?” He heard the lift in Ted’s voice and nodded.

  Ted chuckled and clapped him on the back. Mateo didn’t think he’d ever seen Ted so happy. “Oh, one more thing before I forget.” Ted’s grin reminded him of Alex and for the first time he could see their strong family resemblance. Ted went behind the snack counter and rummaged through some bags. “Look what we’re going to start selling here at the stand.” He was puffed up, looking proud
as he jiggled a package in the air.

  Mateo moved closer to get a better look. “What is it?”

  “Crunchie Munchies!” Ted said with a laugh.

  “Crunchie Munchies?” Mateo took the package and studied the back of it. All the ingredients looked good and they were made in a certified gluten-free factory. “Wow, thanks, these look great. Good idea, Ted.” He laughed, too, remembering back to when he didn’t even want to tell Ted about his weird diet. Since then, it seemed lots of people were going gluten free, some just for the fun of it. Fun, ha.

  On Wednesday, he ran into Jason in the hallway at the end of the school day. “Yo, Mateo, I stopped by your house yesterday. You weren’t there. Then I popped by Roller City. Why don’t you ever have your cell on? Where were you?”

  Jason always had a problem remembering that Mateo had never owned a cell phone.

  “I must have been in the backroom, working. What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a team awards banquet on the fifteenth. We’re supposed to get other kids to go, you know, to cheer us on when we get our trophies for playing such a good year.”

  “The fifteenth? You mean November fifteenth?” They’d reached Mateo’s locker by then. He jiggled the combo to get it open.

  “Right, it’s a Saturday, ten o’clock,” said Jason. “I know we don’t hang out much anymore, but the baseball season’s wrapping up. I’ve worked hard these last few months.” Jason put his hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “My best bud should be there.”

  Best bud? Jason hadn’t called him that since sixth grade. Mateo could tell Jason was really happy with baseball in the same way Mateo loved skating. Maybe they could go back to how they were before the team list was posted. They’d be friends again, each doing their own thing. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he’d really missed hanging out with Jason. Only trouble was the banquet date was November fifteenth —the same day as the skating competition. The award ceremony was being held at ten and the skating meet wasn’t until two, but they had to be in Bellingham a couple hours early and besides it was a long haul in the opposite direction. There was no way he could be at both.