EJShaun.com

Kelvin emptied his pockets whenever he skateboarded with his buddies. He stayed friends with two guys from his childhood, Miguel and Oakey. Both were serious skaters and way better than he was. Kelvin preferred snowboarding, but he liked to skate in the summer. The main reason he went to school in the mountains was for the snowboarding scene. He skated with his buddies during the off-season to keep sharp. They were always pushing him to go bigger. He fell a lot because of them, learning early that his pockets were better off empty.

The three of them hung out at their old high school that day. The campus was built on a small hill with plenty of good spots to skate. Staircases were everywhere, connecting parking lots, green spaces, and the athletic fields. To skaters, it was a concrete playground. Many of the ledges were already waxed. They rarely got kicked out here. With all the trees around, cops couldn’t see them from the street.

Kelvin sat on a park bench beside Oakey while Miguel skated a staircase nearby. His buddies were filming a video. A camera bag and tripod lay under the bench. They were about half done from the spring and planned on releasing it soon. They did one every year, hoping to get sponsored. They had a list of companies pinned to their apartment wall.

Kelvin tagged along to help film. Sometimes he got a clip for himself. It was Saturday, and he was beginning to feel down about Aliyah’s party. It was getting late now. The afternoon was rolling into the evening without so much as a post online. He also checked Aja’s social media, finding nothing there as well. Yesterday he spent all night waiting by his phone. He regretted it afterward and decided to go skating today. He and his buddies didn’t talk much over the school year, but every time they got together, it was like nobody ever left.

A warm breeze brought in some clouds. The scent of jasmine lingered in the air. Oakey crinkled through a bag of mini muffins as Miguel slid the handrail for the dozenth time.

Oakey loved to snack yet was still rail thin. He had a long face and long brown hair that went well with his lanky body. He liked how his hair blew in the wind. A waft of sunscreen followed him wherever he skated. His pale skin needed a thick coat regularly. He had a scar on his nose from a sunburn years ago.

Between the two of them, Oakey wasn’t the type to skate stairs. He preferred the flow of a skatepark. Miguel was the one with the aggressive style. They argued about the trick he was doing. Oakey wanted to film it, but Miguel said he wasn’t ready yet.

“Dude, you’ve landed it like ten times.”

“Yeah, but it’s still sketchy.”

Miguel was a perfectionist. He took an hour simply buzzing his head. His mustache and goatee outlined his lips perfectly. He worked out every morning and hit his punching bag every night. His stocky frame packed the punch of a guy twice his size. He was as tough as he was tough-looking, and he intimidated lesser skaters.

On the bench, Oakey turned to Kelvin and offered him a muffin. He waved it off to avoid upsetting his stomach. He wasn’t feeling well with the party on his mind.

“Hey,” Oakey said with his mouth full, “How’d that signing go? Didn’t you try to get some actress’s autograph?”

“Yeah, no, it went well. She’s really good at getting to everyone, so I just had to show on time.”

“That’s cool. What’d she sign?”

“One of my hats.” Which was now in a glass case enshrined on his dresser. “I brought a picture of her, but it blew away before she got to me.”

“Really? That’s funny.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Miguel stopped skating to listen in. “Why do you even like her so much? It’s weird.”

“Nah, man, shut up,” Kelvin said over his shoulder, “The chick does work. That’s why. She’s been in the business since she was ten. On her own, since like, sixteen. In Hollywood? Dude, when I was sixteen, I was a bag boy asking paper or plastic. At sixteen, she was already bagging paper and plastic.”

His buddies laughed.

“I got to check this chick out,” Miguel said. He headed over to grab his phone. “What’s her name again?”

“Aliyah. Gavins.”

“She do nude?”

Kelvin sputtered his lips. “Come on, man. It ain’t about that.”

Miguel joined them by the bench, digging his phone out of his camera bag. Oakey grabbed his, too, spelling her name wrong at first. They spent the next few minutes searching her movies and shows. Some of the titles stood out, but they didn’t recognize her in anything. Aliyah usually played minor parts in more well-known productions. Her leading roles were in smaller projects.

“Damn,” Miguel said, swiping through her pictures, “Homie, she’s for real. Like, damn fine. And you said it ain’t about that? Yeah, right.”

Kelvin snickered. “Nah, man, she just commands it. I don’t know. The way she sat in that seat. I can’t believe she invited me in.”

All three of them paused at the same time. His buddies peeked up from their phones as Kelvin realized his mistake. Oakey seemed confused. Miguel looked suspicious.

“What do you mean she invited you in? In where?”

“And what seat? Was she sitting?”

Kelvin scrambled for a better answer. His inner voice yelled at him about the N.D.A. He tried to explain that it was the hotel, then he said the alley. His buddies didn’t believe either. They pestered him until he broke down.

“I can’t say.” He shoved off the bench. “I kinda signed something that said I wouldn’t.”

Oakey choked on a mini muffin. Miguel scoffed.

“For real? You signed an N.D.A.? Yo, you gotta give us more than that.”

While they pried, his phone buzzed under the bench. His screen lit up with a text from an unknown number. Nobody noticed.

Kelvin stopped at the curb, keeping his back to his buddies. He felt stupid getting his hopes up. Who was he kidding? He didn’t go to celebrity parties. It was probably just a joke anyway. Honestly. What if the N.D.A. wasn’t even real?

“Fine.” He kicked the curb. “But like, first, you guys know I can rap, right?”

They nodded, shrugged.

“Okay, well, as she was signing for me, I kinda did this little verse for her, and she actually liked it. She asked me to stick around after, and for like, two minutes, I got to talk to her in her backseat. It was unreal.”

His buddies were speechless.

“Dude!” Oakey shouted, “You rapped for her? And she liked it? Do you rap better than you skate?”

Miguel spit into the grass. “Homie, I’m confused. Sounds like it went dope. Why you acting all pissy about it? If it’s the N.D.A. we won’t say anything.”

Kelvin hung his head. His hair fell in his face. “No, I know. That’s not really it. It’s just, at the end, she asked me for my number and told me leave the weekend open. But like, that was Tuesday, and it’s what now? Seven o’clock on Saturday? Her manager really hated me, so I’m thinking she talked her out of it. I just got my hopes up too high. That’s all.”

As he sighed, Oakey jumped back on his phone. He hunkered over it like he had an idea. With his head down, his hair fell to his knees.

“It’s no big deal,” he continued, “I can always try again. Hit up another signing or something.”

Miguel chuckled. “That’s if they let you. Security probably gonna throw you out on sight.”

He chuckled as well, hiding his disappointment. “Yeah, probably. I ain’t even anyone and watch me get blacklisted.”

He returned to his seat after that. When he sat down, Miguel grabbed his board and went back to the stairs. They talked about filming it, but he said he still wasn’t ready yet.

Oakey stayed quiet between them. The glow of his screen lit his face. He found something. An article. He was looking for her signing, hoping to spot his buddy in the background. What he found was way bigger.

“Dude.” He slapped Kelvin in the arm. “Someone caught your meet-and-greet.”

They both hunkered over his phone.

Who’s the Lucky fan?

On Tuesday night, a small publisher posted a series of photos from outside the hotel. The pictures included Tiffany, Aliyah’s bodyguards, and two shadowy figures in her Escalade. The article did not shine anybody in a good light.

“That explains it,” Kelvin said, “Already bad press? No way am I getting that call now.”

Oakey patted his back then offered him another muffin. He thanked him but declined. He felt worse than he did the last time he offered.

He picked up his phone despite the pit in his stomach. He figured he’d text Imani to cheer himself up. She usually made him feel better. They still talked every now and then. They only broke up because she had to quit school. Her dad had a stroke, and her family needed her at home. She said she’d be back in the fall if he got better. Kelvin told himself he’d hold out hope no matter what.

When he looked at his phone, he almost dropped it. His screen said he had two missed texts. He didn’t know the number, but the area code was from Hollywood. His hands shook. He fumbled putting in his passcode.

It’s Tiffany. You can head over now. I’ll send you the address when you respond.

Come alone.