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    Skateboard Blues
    Skateboard Blues
    Skateboard Blues
    Ebook126 pages1 hour

    Skateboard Blues

    By Sydell Lowell Voeller

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Jessica Williams is bored living in her small town in Oregon, and the kids at school seem equally boring. Life is indeed dull for Jessica until Cam Easton moves into her neighborhood and teaches her how to skate. Soon she discovers she is falling in love with him, but she runs into a major obstacle. Most of the people in town despise skateboarders, including her father who is running for mayor. Worse, Jessica's involvement with the skaters suddenly poases a threat to his campaign. Can the skaters prove themselves worthy of the community's support? And most of all, can Jessica and Cam resolve their differences and find the true meaning of love?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSydell Voeller
    Release dateMar 1, 2024
    ISBN9798224165414
    Skateboard Blues
    Author

    Sydell Lowell Voeller

    Sydell Lowell Voeller grew up in Edmonds, Washington, and has lived in Forest Grove, Oregon for many years.  Her family consists of a husband, two grown sons and their wives, and four grandchildren.  Sydell  has been a violinist in semiprofessional orchestras, a registered nurse, and a writing instructor for the LongRidge Writer's Institute. Her interests include reading, camping, astronomy, crafting, and playing with her two cats.

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      Book preview

      Skateboard Blues - Sydell Lowell Voeller

      Chapter One

      Jessica, stop being so snoopy!

      I jerked back from my bedroom window, gritting my teeth. Sometimes I felt like telling my pesky ten-year-old sister that she was the snoopy one. Couldn’t I do as I pleased without Angie always poking her nose into my room?

      Be quiet, Angie. Who says I can’t look out my window? I gave my shoulder-length light brown hair a shake and pulled back the curtain a little farther.

      My gaze riveted on the new family across the street. A big yellow moving van was parked in front of their slate-colored Victorian house, commonly known as the old Schrader place. Several people were dashing in and out, carrying crates and cardboard boxes. Behind the van, someone had parked a white Mercedes with a California license plate. Next to it stood a midnight blue Porsche.

      Snoopy, snoopy, snoopy. That’s what you are, Angie persisted in her high-pitched voice. What if they see you spying on them?

      So what? I couldn’t help thinking she was more annoying than the buzzing, half-dead fly caught between my window and the screen. I picked up the fly inside a wad of Kleenex, opened the screen, and shook it outside. Wouldn’t it be great if you could get rid of little sisters just as easily? I figured it was worth a try. Hey, Angie, Mom’s calling.

      She stuck out her tongue. Don’t lie to me! Mom’s still at the library. She's working later than usual today.

      I flashed her an evil glare, hoping she’d get the message and take off. Just because she got straight A’s and was the smartest kid in Mr. Alexander’s fifth grade class didn’t excuse her from being a smart aleck. I could run my life without her expert advice.

      No luck. Angie carelessly brushed my side, then plopped down on my yellow quilted bedspread, crossed her legs, and stared at the ceiling.

      I did my best to ignore her. Looking again across the street, I shaded my eyes against the October sun. Dust motes danced in the shaft of light streaming through my window.

      A guy with sandy blond hair appeared from the neighbor’s garage. Toting a skateboard under one arm, he wore black sweats and a red T-shirt emblazoned with a jumble of brightly-colored designs.

      The guy strode to the driveway. With a toss of his head, he hopped onto the skateboard. Wheels clacked against pavement as he roared down the incline, zigzagged up the neighboring driveway, then twisted and shot back down onto the sidewalk. There he jumped over two cardboard boxes and landed in perfect control. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was gorgeous—and practically a pro skater!

      Angie started chanting a dumb song about a bear in tennis shoes she’d learned at camp last summer. I knew she was doing it to irritate me, but I refused to let it. I was determined to keep watching that gorgeous guy across the street.

      Board-in-hand, he emerged from the shadows of a maple tree. I squinted, trying to make out the designs on his shirt. Something about skateboarding, no doubt.

      What I wouldn’t give for him to look up here and notice me. Or better yet, meet me face-to-face. Yet the idea of that really happening filled me with panic. What would I say? What would I do?

      Suddenly the thought of facing him seemed more nerve-wracking than the day last year in school when I had to speak in front of the entire student body. I was running for freshman class secretary and almost threw up in the girls’ locker room while I was waiting for my turn. After an experience like that, I couldn’t understand why my father, a dentist, had decided to run for mayor of Preston. My attention shifted back to the boy with the skateboard, and I got a strange quivery feeling inside. I knew it was time to get my act together. Leaving Angie singing louder than ever, I raced downstairs, headed for the utility room, and grabbed a bucket and sponge out of the closet. It was a golden fall afternoon—perfect for washing the car!

      My hands tingled from the icy water that blasted from the hose, and the wet driveway felt rough beneath my bare feet. Sunshine warmed my back.

      As I was soaping down the hood of the car, I kept looking across the street. A man dressed in blue and white pin-striped coveralls poked his head out of the van and called to the boy with the skateboard. The guy dropped the board, climbed up into the truck, and started helping the man tug an oversized couch off the back.

      It didn’t appear as if things were going too well. The sheet, partially draped over the couch, kept getting caught underneath it. They had to stop every few minutes to yank the sheet free.

      I guessed they must be father and son. The man called the skater Cam.

      To me, the typical guys at school had become boring. They were all wrapped up in their backward ways or stuck on acting preppy. There’d never be anyone in Preston worth dating, I’d told myself. I couldn’t help wondering if they’d included a job description for nuns in my careers survey class. But now? I glanced again across the street, and my stomach fluttered. Now maybe things would be different.

      As I yanked at the hose, I watched Cam out of the corner of my eye. In between snatches of conversation with his dad, he looked over at me and grinned. My pulse raced.

      The pounding of skateboards, mingled with the clattering of wheels, drew nearer. Three more skaters whizzed into the driveway at the old Schrader house. This guy works fast, I thought. Already he’s made new friends! Maybe there was hope for me.

      Jessie! I’d been so busy watching the new neighbors, I hadn’t even heard my sister approach from behind me. Megan’s on the phone.

      Okay! I’ll be right in. I flicked soap suds off my hands and dashed inside the house.

      Hey! What’s going on? Megan asked after I'd answered the phone.

      I’m washing the car and watching the new neighbors move in. I wasn’t sure whether I was ready to tell her about the cool guy yet. Megan had flowing blonde hair that looked like corn silk, and her figure was terrific. All she had to do was flash her round blue eyes a time or two, and any guy she wanted would be beating down her front door. The last thing I needed was competition.

      Want to go with Mom and me to the mall tomorrow? she asked. The stores are celebrating Super Sale Sunday. I’m planning to look for a sweater to go with my new jeans.

      Sounds terrific! I ran a hand through my hair, stalling for time. If only there was some way I could get out of helping my family distribute campaign flyers, but I knew there wasn’t. Dad said he depended on me. However, I’m afraid I can’t go with you, I added. There are only a little over two weeks left to get out my father’s campaign stuff.

      Again? You’re always helping with the campaign. She let out an audible sigh. I’ll be glad when the election’s over.

      "Me too. Especially me. Consider yourself lucky you don’t have a father in politics."

      I do, I do. She paused. What are your new neighbors like?

      Ummm . . . well, interesting.

      Interesting! Is that all you have to say? Interesting?

      Giggling into the phone, I answered, Yeah, that’s all I’m saying for now. I liked to keep Megan in suspense.

      We talked a while about the weird new teacher in sophomore English who’d taken over for Mrs. Craxton after she’d left to have her baby and what a big zero the homecoming dance had turned out to be. But what could you expect from a backwards little school like ours?

      Gravel crunched outside. I glanced through the front room window and saw Mom turn our van sharply into the driveway. I gulped, realizing I’d left the bucket, sponge, and a pile of polishing rags directly in her path.

      I told Megan good-bye and bounded down our porch stairs. In the driveway my mother had already stopped the van, a perturbed look crossing her face.

      Hold on! I got it! I scooped up the bucket. By now the sun had dried the soap suds onto the car’s black paint job, and I knew I’d have to start all over. Oh, well! At least it gave me an excuse to still be out in the front yard.

      I peered over at the slate-colored house again, but everyone had gone inside. So far, my plan to get Cam to see me wasn’t working too well. I’d have to think of something better.

      That night after I’d stuck the last utensil into the dishwasher, it dawned on me. Why not get started passing out Dad’s flyers right away? Who said we’d have to wait? Besides, Mom and Dad had made plans to take Angie to a movie, so I’d finally be on my own. I was certain I could cover at least six square blocks before it got too late,

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