6. GaySomethin’ #2
Laughter erupted from the crew, loud and relentless. Max’s crude guffaws rang above the others. Only Bridger remained silent.
“Pathetic,” Max spat at Gus. He put a foot on his Santa Cruz and glared at Bridger. “You can’t make new friends.”
Bridger almost laughed. “What?”
“You skate with me. With us. You don’t play arts and crafts with… girls,” Max declared, throwing a disgusted look at Gus, still on the ground.
Bridger said nothing. The tension was thick as concrete. The group widened, stepping even farther from Gus on the ground.
Max kicked off and skated toward a distant handrail. “Drop him, Bridge,” he tossed back as he skated away. “Don’t waste your time.”
Most of the group immediately followed Max like sheep, leaving Gus and Bridger behind. Coop, Bennet, and Avery gave Gus and Bridger nods or kind waves but left as well.
Bridger turned to a shaken Gus below him and rolled his eyes, pretending to brush off the moment. But deep down, even he was rattled.
“He’s just fucking with you. Ignore him,” Bridger said. “He’s like that to everyone.”
Gus didn’t respond. He got up, brushed grit from his palms, and picked up his board. Without a word, he started to walk away.
“Gus. Wait.” Bridger stepped after him. He grabbed Gus’s shoulder, stopping him. “You just gotta practice more,” Bridger said softly.
Gus shrugged off Bridger’s hand. “It’s fine,” he replied, curt, and carried on ahead.
“Max will come around. You’ll get better, and he’ll bring you into the crew. I know it,” Bridger assured Gus, trailing after.
“Right. Sure,” Gus replied distantly. He knew they were both lying to themselves.
Bridger took a few more steps. “Wanna hang later?”
“I have work to do,” Gus said without looking back.
Bridger stopped following and sulked alone on the concrete.
He watched Gus race back to his car.
~
The next morning, while oiling a new cherrywood coffee table with his dad in the woodshop, Gus’s mind drifted to yesterday’s utter mess.
He feared Bridger might not want to skate with him ever again.
They hadn’t made plans to skate over the upcoming weekend, so Gus was lost on where they stood.
He couldn’t blame Bridger if he did ditch him.
Bridger had known Max and his friends for years and Gus only a few weeks.
He was the outlier everyone hated. Somehow he had caused a rift in their crew without meaning to.
What if Bridger fully ignores me next time?
The idea of returning to the park only to be shunned consumed Gus’s attention for the rest of his workday.
For dinner, Dan cooked up some seared steak, glazed carrots, and whipped parsnips with an onion gravy.
It was a delicious yet quiet meal, like all the others.
As he and his father ate in silence, Gus returned to his thoughts.
Without the skatepark, he’d have to abide this awkward, lonely stillness every single day.
The weight of the remainder of his summer grew heavier.
The brrring of their corded wall phone cut through the supper haze. It was a shock to Gus’s ear. No one ever called this late.
Gus looked up with confusion at his father. “Another order?”
“Probably,” Dan grunted as he stood from his chair to pick up the phone.
After a few seconds of pleasantries, his father raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“It’s for you,” Dan grumbled casually as he looked over at Gus.
“What?”
His dad brandished the phone.
“Oh.” For me? Gus took the phone from his father’s hands with a curious face and put it to his ear.
“Hey, Gus. It’s Bridger,” the calm voice opened on the other end of the line.
“Oh. Hello,” Gus replied as his stomach bottomed out. This is it. I’m being ditched.
“Instead of practicing at the skatepark tomorrow, can I come around to yours?” Bridger asked breezily.
Gus’s head tilted back in surprise.
“Let’s skate on the roads near you. That’ll be good to try. Plus, I think the guys aren’t quite ready for you yet.” Bridger chuckled.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure,” Gus agreed. He bit a lip in contemplation. They’re never gonna be ready.
“Great. Can we also finish my board? It’s probably dry now, right?” Bridger asked.
Gus’s eyes darted to his father at the table. He twisted the phone away to ensure his dad heard nothing.
“Uh, yeah, we can do that,” Gus worded carefully. His dad looked up, and Gus put his hand over the phone. “Can Bridger come by tomorrow?”
Dan sighed. “To do what?”
“He wants to… get out of town,” Gus lied. “See the woods and trails near us.”
“He can visit after we finish the redwood desk order,” Dan replied.
Gus lifted the phone back to his ear. “I’ll probably finish work around late afternoon. You can come after that.”
“Great. Catch you then!” Bridger concluded cheerfully.
Gus hung the phone back up on the wall and sat back down to finish his food.
“Make sure Bridger stays out of the shop this time,” Dan said. “We can’t afford any injuries.”
“Yes, sir,” Gus lied again, confirming his father’s rule with a deceptive nod.
Dan returned to eating his steak and parsnips. Gus sulked in his chair, his secrets a growing burden. He stared at his plate with guilt.
What am I doing?
The next afternoon, when the bell above the woodshop door chimed, Dan looked up from the desk they were constructing. Gus’s eyes widened in surprise as Bridger entered. Gus put down some carpentry tools and pushed forward.
“Bridger! Let’s meet outside.”
“Oh?” Bridger responded with surprise as Gus led him out. “Okay, dude.”
Gus popped his head back in the shop.
“I finished everything on my end. Is it okay if we head out?” Gus asked his father. “I’ll clean later.”
“Don’t be out too late,” Dan grunted, brushing off the surface he’d just sanded. “I have to drive into town later.”
“I know. You told me.” Gus put on a smile. “We’ll be back before it’s dark.”
Dan nodded as Gus left the shop. He watched the boys walk toward his cabin through the window. His head tilted in thought and his gaze narrowed, then he lifted his brows. He didn’t understand why he felt almost… worried. Alone again, Dan set to polishing the redwood desk.
After Gus quickly ran upstairs and grabbed his board from its hiding spot in his room, he met Bridger back at his front door and together they walked out to the main road off the gravel driveway.
The boys skated down an empty road a ways off from Dan’s property, winding back and forth in front of each other.
Bridger seemed a little more distant than normal to Gus.
He mentioned a few tidbits, like how skating long distances and on hills would be good practice for Gus, but for the most part stayed quiet.
Soon, the blue afternoon sky morphed into the golden glow of sunset.
As the boys approached a long stretch of smooth paved road with a slight downhill slope, Bridger kicked off the ground a few extra times and sped far out in front of Gus.
“Hey! Slow down!” Gus called out.
Bridger didn’t look back. He kept speeding forward.
“NEVER!” Bridger yelled jokingly, lifting his arms like a soaring airplane. He basked in the sunlight and let the wind rush through his hair and run all around his body.
With his eyes closed and arms out wide, surrendering to any danger that might come, Bridger called back, “When I skate really fast, it feels like I’m flying.”
“I can’t go that fast!” Gus protested, trying to catch up.
“Do it! You forget all the shit you don’t wanna think about.”
“Or I fall flat on my face!” Gus retorted.
Bridger grumbled dramatically, rolled his eyes, and decelerated to a stop. He turned back to wait for an approaching Gus to come to a sloppy pause at his side. Bridger suppressed a laugh.
“Fine, I’ll slow down,” Bridger conceded with a smirk. “For you.”
The boys both kicked off again and continued to ride in tandem. While they cruised side by side, Bridger turned to glance at Gus.
Gus looked back. Bridger seemed apprehensive but eager to mention something.
“Don’t tell Max this, but Avery, Bennet, and Coop told me they really like your board. They all want their own,” Bridger revealed.
“Oh?” Gus responded.
“They’d even pay for it,” Bridger added, sounding smug.
“Really?” The crew wants my boards?
“Yeah, and I think the other guys would too if we design cool decks,” Bridger continued.
“I don’t know. We still haven’t finished your board… And we don’t have that many extra supplies. Dad might think I’m stealing if we make more decks.” Gus hesitated.
“They’re scraps! He probably throws that wood in the fire anyway,” Bridger reasoned.
Gus breathed in, a bit nervous, but nodded.
The boys continued to skate down the road under the deepening orange of sunset, weaving back and forth. When they arrived back at Dan’s property under the evening’s violet sky, Gus saw that his father’s car was not in the driveway. His dad had left to go pick up their wood order for next week.
“He’s gone.” Gus nudged Bridger. “Let’s do your board now.”
Gus led Bridger into the woodshop and they both immediately got to work.
Gus unlocked the closet, and together the boys carried the heavy clamped skateboard mold to the main bench.
Bridger watched as Gus showed how to cut out the oval deck shape from the dried layered wood with the bandsaw.
Next, they had to smooth the edges with a rotary sander.
Gus demonstrated how to stand while holding the corded machine to level the board’s surface properly.
“It’s crazy seeing it in this shape,” Bridger called out over the sander. “It’s so close!”
Gus pressed the off switch so they could talk. He handed Bridger the sander.
“Here. You try this bit,” Gus encouraged. “Sanding is easy.”
Bridger laughed. “Dude, no. I’ll fuck it up somehow.”
“You can do it,” Gus comforted. “It’s my turn to teach you. It’s easier than skateboarding.”
Bridger breathed in, then switched on the sander. He started the same actions Gus had shown him, but the power tool shook forcefully and left his movements jittery.