Grind by Eric Walters

car.”
    â€œYou’re joking, right?”
    He shook his head. “I’m serious.”
    â€œYou’re seriously
crazy
if you think I’m going to run over a police car and be chased by some cops. Real cops are different than rent-a-cops.”
    â€œI didn’t say anything about being chased by anybody,” Nevin said. “We’ll find an empty police car and you can skate up to it and then run over top.”
    â€œAnd just where do you think we’re going to find an empty police car?” I asked.
    Nevin shrugged. “I thought we’d hang around a donut shop and wait for them to go inside. The whole thing shouldn’t take more than a few seconds if you think about it.”
    Part of me thought he was crazy. The other part knew that I was crazy enough to be excited about giving it a shot.
    â€œWhat about us?” Wally asked.
    â€œIt looks like the people visiting the page want to see more of Lisa,” Nevin said.
    â€œI can do some more tricks,” she said.
    â€œThat isn’t necessarily what they mean. They want to see more of you. More close-up pictures, maybe less clothing, no helmet.”
    â€œHold on,” I said, “we’re not putting Lisa in a bikini to satisfy some perverts.”
    â€œNobody’s talking about a bikini — although that would attract more hits. We could use your school pictures, or just some shots of you sitting around or talking or standing on your board.”
    â€œI guess that would be okay,” Lisa said.
    She wasn’t arguing the way I thought she would. Maybe she liked the idea. I knew I certainly didn’t like some of the comments people had been posting in our guest book. Lisa was really good-looking, but it wasn’t helping me any for kids around the world to be telling her that.
    â€œAnd me?” Wally asked.
    â€œMore tricks,” Nevin said. “If you’re Wally the Wall, they want you to do some more aerial stunts, climbing the wall, riding the rail.”
    â€œThe sort of trick you’ve almost been hitting for the past four months,” I said. “You can do it.”
    â€œAnd you should all be riding the new boards.”
    We’d gotten the new boards from Street Illegal. They were nice boards, flashy, good graphics, nice handling.
    â€œSo when do we go out and tape?” Wally asked.
    â€œSooner is better. How about right after school?” I asked.
    All three nodded. “Good. See you all at the Super Save at around four thirty.”
    â€œHow about if we go to a donut shop first?” Wally suggested.
    â€œWe can get food after,” I said.
    â€œI wasn’t talking about food. I thought we’d go looking for a police car.”
    â€œTell you what. You land that jump of yours and then we’ll find a police car and I’ll give it a shot,” I said. “Deal?”
    â€œDeal,” Wally agreed.
    We stood, boards in hand — new Street Illegal boards—waiting for Nevin to set up. There was no point in hitting a trick unless it was being taped. Nevin gave us the thumbs-up.
    â€œOkay, Wally, go for it.”He didn’t move. It was like he hadn’t heard me.
    â€œCome on, we don’t have much time. I really don’t want to be here if security arrives.”
    â€œCould make for some interesting shots if they do,” Lisa said.
    â€œThat’s what I’m afraid of. Shots to the side of my head as they break my new board over my old skull.”
    Lisa laughed. She’d been easing up on me over the past week…maybe this was going to work out okay.
    Wally hadn’t laughed—or blinked. He looked frozen.
    â€œYou can do it, Wally,” I said. “All you need is a little more speed. Go higher up the bank, okay?”
    Wally nodded.
    â€œRemember, no guts, no glory. No pain, no gain. Go big or go home.”
    â€œAnd going home is okay,” Lisa said. “You don’t have to do