Crossed Over

by Santana Knox

“Disappointment is the only thing we’re used to,”

Skate the bout on Saturday.”

I could find the balance between giving my all and giving too much.

I only took care of a need once it became impossible to ignore.

Why did I do that? Why did I always do that? Always had to say something snarky and sarcastic. Always had a know-it-all response I couldn’t hold back, even while dying to make a good impression, to give the illusion of normalcy.

“Be loud and proud, but don’t make too much

noise. Be all you can be, but don’t let them notice you. Blend in, but be better than the ones before you.”

She was about four foot ten, equipped with a blocker’s hip that would send fear into any jammer.

Not a mental illness in sight.

Home. Wherever that was. An

These skaters deserved better than that, better than both what Lonnie or I could offer.

I was no one to these people. How dare I wedge myself in and demand they lay their feelings and problems out in front of me?

“You say that like I’m looking to go back into skating permanently.”

“You can keep lying to yourself all you want, princess, but it’s pretty obvious you

want to be...

“I never said I didn’t want to be here. There’s nowhere on this planet I love more than Skateland, but staying isn’t logical, nor is it part of my plans. I’ve spent every moment of my life skipping from one impulsive decision to the next, and for once in my life, I have a plan,”

“I just need to get this one thing right,”

“And then what?”

“I don’t ...

“If I skate for thirty more minutes, I’m gonna need to be carried out of here,”

“That can be arranged.”

“I’m not kidding. I’ll be useless tomorrow, I’m gonna be so sore,”

“You’ll be fine. Harvey gives good leg rubs.”

Everyone has their time. Their seasons, my grandmother would tell me any time she felt her daughter’s pressure weighing me down.

Lonnie was right all along. They always said you’d eventually come home.”

This felt impossible, but I’d never needed anything more. I wanted this with my entire body and soul.

The worst part was admitting that this had meant so much to me. It had meant too much.

“Is it us?”

I shook my head once more. It was them, though. They were too much. Too nice, too good, too familiar, and it made me feel things I wasn’t prepared to feel. No, that was a lie too.

“It’s...

“Then come hang out. If the problem is you, then you,...

“We can talk about it, or not mention it at all tonight, or ever ag...

there was something about the way I always looked for her and how she always appeared that was far too comforting, far too easy to rely on.

I hadn’t had anyone I could count on in too long to remember.

Would have been killer to skate with you.”

I was officially stuck, a prisoner between two feelings, wanting nothing more than to claim this life again, to cement my quads to my feet and be Nia-Death-Experience once more. To be given the chance to do it over and do it right this time.

“What are you afraid of?”

“All of it. Success, failure, everything in between.”

“I think you owe me a leg rub.”

“I don’t remember offering.” “I’m pretty sure Trixie volunteered you,”

“If you’re afraid of failing and succeeding, then what are you left with?”

“I’m not ready to talk about it,”

“But I’m not sure I’m ready to quit either.”

“Mother wounds are lethal.” Mother wound. Mine wasn’t a wound—it was a festering sore.

“Pass your skills tomorrow, and I’ll rub them every night until you leave.”

“Don’t mess with me. I’m worse than a debt collector!”

My brain was the captain of the ship, but the waters were dark and murky. I could find empathy for a chipping patch of paint if I tried.

I didn’t think I had ever stared at another girl’s face so much in my life.

I wanted to be like them, to look like them, to look like anyone who didn’t resemble me. I wanted to be them. Maybe I wanted to be her too.

“Is it going to kill her if you don’t answer right now?”