Livora Gracely

The leopard had finally stopped worrying about being the slowest.
Then someone announced a competition.

The three friends were sitting at the edge of the skatepark, boards resting beside their feet, when two unfamiliar skaters rolled onto the concrete.

First came a polar bear.

Large.

Confident.

Surprisingly light on his wheels.

He swept down the ramp, turned neatly at the bottom, and rolled away as though several hundred pounds of white bear had temporarily negotiated different rules with gravity.

The mouse stared.

Then came a turtle.

The leopard blinked.

“A turtle?”

The girl in the yellow hoodie smiled. “Watch.”

The turtle pushed once.

Then again.

He reached the rail, crouched beneath his helmet, lifted the board—

and slid cleanly across it.

The mouse’s mouth fell open.

The leopard looked personally betrayed by nature.

“A turtle.”

This time nobody answered.

The turtle landed.

Perfectly.

That was when the girl noticed the poster beside them.

NEXT WEEK!
SKATE TEAM COMPETITION
3 SKATERS PER TEAM

Three heads turned toward it.

Then slowly toward one another.

The mouse pointed at himself.

One.

He pointed at the leopard.

Two.

Then at the girl.

Three.

The leopard’s smile disappeared.

He looked back at the polar bear carving confidently through another turn.

Then at the turtle.

Then at his own skateboard.

Only yesterday, staying upright had felt like an achievement.

The girl stood and picked up her board.

“We have a week.”

The mouse immediately climbed onto his.

The leopard remained seated.

“We could also have a very peaceful week.”

The mouse shook his head.

The girl held out her hand.

The leopard looked at it.

He had been the beginner when they met. The mouse was faster. The girl turned more smoothly. Even his tail occasionally seemed more qualified than he was.

But neither of them had ever asked him to become someone else before riding beside them.

He took her hand.

Three boards rolled onto the concrete.

Their first practice was not impressive.

The girl entered the turn too fast.

The leopard nearly collided with a cone.

The mouse attempted to demonstrate a rail trick, landed sideways, and disappeared briefly behind his own bunny hat.

For one second, there was silence.

Then all three burst out laughing.

Across the park, the polar bear glanced over.

The turtle did too.

The leopard stood, straightened his scarf, and retrieved his board.

They were not the fastest team.

Not the smoothest.

Possibly not even the most sensible.

But three very different skaters had just discovered something useful:

a team did not begin when everyone learned to move alike.

It began when nobody minded waiting for the third board to catch up.

The girl pushed forward.

The mouse followed.

The leopard jumped onto his board.

“Wait for me!”

They did.

For approximately four seconds.

Then the mouse accelerated.

Competition, apparently, had already begun.