Shwish-klink! Shwish-klink!

The familiar sound of rollerblades on pavement drew Beth’s attention, and she looked up from attempting to fasten her own purple rollerblades shut. Upon spotting the source of the noise, she grinned. “Ho! Amira,” she said, lifting one hand to wave at her friend.

The source of the noise—Amira—bladed up the path before coming to a halt in front of Beth where she sat on the porch. “Ho! Beth,” she said, the grin on her face even larger than the one on Beth’s. “I haven’t seen you recently.” On her own feet were two mismatched rollerblades—one red and one green.

“I just saw you yesterday,” Beth said. “Remember?”

“Yesterday?” Amira’s brow furrowed, and she bit her lower lip. “What did we do yesterday? Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “We walked dogs at the Humane Society. I think.”

“Yup.”

“Hey, how come your rollerblades aren’t on yet?”

“The clasps are stiff.” Beth stuck out a foot, admiring the way they reflected the sun. She’d gotten them an hour ago, and they had yet to accumulate a dirt coat. “Help me?”

Amira leaned down and snapped the clasps into place. “There. Anything else?” Beth extended her hands and grinned. Though she rolled her eyes, Amira took hold and lifted Beth to her feet.

Beth stuck out her arms, making sure she wasn’t about to fall. “Let’s go. I have an hour before I have to get ready.”

“Ready for what?” Amira tilted her head, and a lock of curly brown hair fell into her face. Sighing, she tucked it back behind her ear.

“I’m giving a speech about the environment and our efforts to clean it.” She pushed off with one foot, gliding past Amira and down the path towards the sidewalk. Her wheels clicked as they traveled along the concrete, no sticks or rocks getting underneath her. “Ah …” This was the life: gorgeous weather, quality sidewalks, brand-new rollerblades, and Amira.

“Oh, another speech.” Amira as well began moving forward, following behind Beth. She spun in a circle and laughed. “Too bad. It’s a beautiful day today, and you’re stuck inside with old people.”

“Shut it.” Beth stuck out her tongue. “I’m not giving the speech right now. Besides, I don’t see you offering to come do it for me.”

“You’re the one with a knack for public speaking,” Amira said.

“Fine. I don’t see you offering to-”

“Woo hoo!” Amira shot past Beth and shrieked, cutting off Beth’s words. She raced towards the end of the block. “Bet you can’t catch me.”

“Hey!” Beth started after her friend. “That isn’t fair.” She launched herself forward, shooting behind Amira with powerful strokes. The wind whistled in her ears as she sped after her friend. Amira laughed and bladed towards the stop sign at the end. Though she had the advantage of a head start, it wasn’t enough. Beth, with her stronger legs and smoother rollerblades, managed to smash into the stop sign first, the impact knocking her to the ground.

Not two seconds later, Amira pulled up behind Beth. She had more control and stopped herself from falling or running into the sign. “Beth, are … you okay?” Chest rising and falling as she gasped for oxygen, Amira stooped over and pressed her hands against her knees.

Beth reclined onto her back and wrinkled her nose as the grass tickled the back of her neck. She closed her eyes. The sun’s rays felt warm today, but it wasn’t hot out thanks to a slight breeze. In short, perfect rollerblading weather. Her back ached, but she’d beaten Amira; it was worth it a million times over.

“Beth?”

Oh, yeah. Amira had asked her a question. “I’m fine; I just went too fast to stop I guess.”

Somewhere above her, Amira exhaled. “Good. I’d miss you if you died. After I outgrew your rollerblades, of course.”

“Aw, you’re so sw- Wait!” Beth scowled. She opened her eyes and glowered up at her friend. “Love you too.”

Amira snickered. “Get up. Let’s go blading.” She held out a hand for Beth to take.

“No. You hurt my feelings.” Beth sat up and turned away. She sniffed like she was attempting to hold back tears, but her lips had formed a grin.

“Don’t be such a wimp.” When Beth didn’t respond to her jab, Amira said, “Wait. Are you actually offended? I’m so sorry, Beth. Please forgive me.”

Beth pretended she hadn’t heard Amira.

“Beth?” Amira prodded her friend’s leg with the wheel of her red rollerblade. “Please please please forgive me.” When Beth still didn’t speak, she said, “Say something, at least.”

“I don’t know, Amira.” Beth turned back to face her friend. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh, and tasted something metallic. Shoot. She’d drawn blood.

“I’ll do anything.” Amira fell to one knee and extended her hands towards her friend.

“Anything?” Beth tapped her chin. This was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. However, she didn’t have anything she needed—or wanted—done. “Hm. You can …”

“Yes?” Amira, hands now clasped together in front of her, stared at Beth.

Beth hesitated. Should she ask for money? Food? Unlimited access to Amira’s makeup? One completed homework assignment of her choosing? Then she thought back to what she’d been about to say before this race. “You can come to my speech later today,” she said, grinning. Though it did nothing for her, Amira hated both listening to speeches and sitting still.

A look of horror flickered across Amira’s face. She looked up, and the sky reflected in her brown eyes. Then she looked back down at Beth and nodded. “Of course. Anything for you.” Using the stop sign to steady herself, she stood up. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Now are you ready to go?”

This time when Amira held out her hand, Beth took it.

Once she was on her feet, Beth turned towards the street. She checked for cars before blading across, pulling Amira behind her. Wispy strands of hair blew around her face, and she spluttered. “Hang on. My hair’s falling out.”

Amira stopped and let go of Beth’s hand. “Yikes. Your bow is …” She clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled.

Beth ran a hand over her hair and gasped. The green bow she wore on her head had disappeared. “Crap. Amira, where is it?” She felt the top of her head. Nothing. Her stomach twisted. What had happened to it?

“Try the side,” Amira said. She pointed at Beth’s right temple.

Beth moved her hand from the top of her head down to the right side. She felt around until her fingers brushed the silk fabric hidden among her hair. It had fallen off the top of her head and was dangling, suspended by one strand of hair. “How did that happen?”

“It came out when you fell,” Amira said.

“Wait, you saw?”

Amira smiled and scratched the back of her neck. “Maybe.”

“You- you-” Beth paused, searching for a word to convey her feelings. “… jerk,” she finished in an anticlimactic fashion. Then she laughed, partly because she caught sight of herself in a store window but mostly because she couldn’t stay mad at Amira.

Amira laughed as well, took her friend’s hand, and began moving. “Let’s go,” she said.

The sound of rollerblades on pavement filled the air.

Shwish-klink! Shwish-klink!

The stage was well-lit, and every seat in the auditorium was full. Beth stood off to the side, awaiting her cue. Though in a few minutes she’d be speaking to what might be the largest crowd of her entire life, no butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Instead, she remained cool, calm, and collected. She clasped her hands in front of her, and had her notes tucked in a pocket of her gray pleated skirt. Public speaking was something she was familiar and comfortable with, and she saw no reason to panic.

“Without further delay, please welcome Elizabeth Davis,” said the balding man who had been commanding the audience’s attention. A soft round of applause followed his words, and Beth straightened up. That was the signal. With a smile fixed to her face, she walked out into the light and towards the podium in the center of the stage.

When she reached the podium, she took a moment to organise her notes and allow the applause to die down. Once silence had once again fallen, she spoke. “Hello, everyone,” she said, still smiling. “As you heard, my name is Elizabeth Davis. However, I’d prefer it if you called me Beth; ‘Elizabeth’ is too formal, don’t you think?” The audience laughed like she’d said something funny. “Today, I’m here to speak to you about a cause important to me: the state of the environment and what we can do to fix it.”

From there, something within her took over. Though she could feel her lips moving and knew she was giving the speech she’d practiced giving many times before, it didn’t register. Beth was running on automatic pilot, reciting words and laying out a plan of action she had never acted on.

By the time she delivered the final line (“I hope you will all join me in keeping our streets empty of litter and working towards a cleaner planet”), she’d worked the audience up. The round of applause she received filled the room and pushed her off the stage; all the energy she had poured into the speech had infected the people she’d spoken to. Once she reached backstage, she saw that she’d infected everyone there as well.

“You did a wonderful job, honey,” her mother said, pulling Beth in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you and all this work you’re doing.”

“Yes, you’re doing an admirable thing,” her father said. He wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter, beaming. “You’re a Davis through and through.”

Amira, hovering on the edge of the Davis trio, nodded her agreement. “That was your best speech yet. It wouldn’t surprise me if the turnout is the biggest ever.”

Beth pulled back. “Thanks, Mum. Thanks, Pop. Thanks, Amira.” Laughing, she ran a hand through her bleached blonde hair. “Whew! I’d much rather pass the position of figurehead to somebody else. Doing work without a reward would suit me just fine.” It wasn’t the truth, but Beth knew what to say by now. She’d learned long ago that people who acted like they didn’t expect power or recognition obtained and kept it.

“Miss Davis, I’m from the local paper. May I take your picture? This has the makings of a front-page story.” The reporter, a young man with thick glasses, waved a camera and notepad in case she hadn’t seen them.

“Of course.” Beth smiled and straightened up, gazing into the camera. “Please, though, call me Beth. I’m no better than anyone else.”

The reporter snapped a photo, then another. “One more, perhaps, with the family and your pretty friend,” he said, though he phrased it as a question. “Gather closer, please. Yes, that’ll do nicely.” As soon as he’d bustled off, another rushed forward.

“I write an online blog about volunteering and the environment. If it isn’t too much trouble, could I write up a column about your work?”

“Of course you can.”

“I’m much obliged to you.” The blogger, a tall and lanky woman, spun on her heel and jogged towards the exit.

“All this attention must be exhausting,” Beth’s mother said, looking after the blogger. “I couldn’t handle it myself; why, you’re a local celebrity.”

“Now, Emily,” Beth’s father said. “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.” He chuckled and turned towards his daughter. “Well, darling, how do you feel about going out for supper as a reward?” With one hand, he gestured in Amira’s direction. “Amira, of course, is welcome too.”

“Oh, we don’t have to. I don’t need anything. The work I do is reward enough,” Beth said. She knew that they would go out anyway; it was their routine. Besides, going out for supper was always fun. They went to the same place every time, and the staff knew them all by name. In this part of the city the Davis family got special treatment, due to Beth’s volunteer work and the active roles her parents both played in the community. In a way, they were royalty, and all three acted like it.

“Nonsense,” Emily Davis said. “Joseph- I mean your father has a good idea.” She locked arms with her husband but maintained eye contact with her daughter. “We’ll all go out for supper.”

Beth knew better than to push it—not that she wanted to. Without saying another word, she and her family made their way towards the doors of the auditorium and into the sunlight.

Outside, the evening sun beat down upon Beth’s head, and she took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air. She hadn’t realised just how stuffy and dusty it had been inside that building, but now, inhaling the scent of the outdoors and hearing the sounds of the suburbs, she regretted spending the past two hours indoors. “I’m glad the weather’s still gorgeous,” she said.

“I agree.” Beth’s father lead the way to the car and opened the passenger door for his wife. “In you go, Emily.”

“Thank you, Joseph,” Beth’s mother said. She climbed into the car and watched her husband shut the door. Then he walked around to the other side, opened the door, and got into the driver’s seat. That left Beth and Amira.

“Do you want to come with?” Amira had never accompanied the family out to eat before; was she comfortable coming with them? She never liked people paying for her, and Beth wasn’t sure if she’d brought money with her.

“If you don’t mind.” Amira smiled and tugged at the collar of her shirt. It had worn and frayed and become discoloured. While it used to match the vibrant blue shade of the rest of the shirt, Amira had tugged on it so much it now was a much paler shade.

“Of course not. We’d love to have you,” Beth said. “Come on.” She opened the door and allowed her friend to enter first. Once Amira had scooted all the way over, Beth hopped in. Her dad slammed on the gas not a second after she shut the car door, and with the screeching of tires, they were off.