Authors: Matt Christopher
One Smooth Move
Text Copyright © 2004 by Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.
Illustrations Copyright © 2004 by Michael Koelsch
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including
information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may
quote brief passages in a review.
Little, Brown and Company
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental
and not intended by the author.
Matt Christopher
®
is a registered trademark
of Catherine M. Christopher.
First eBook Edition: December 2009
ISBN: 978-0-316-09441-2
Contents
Charlie Abbott put one foot on his skateboard and pushed off with the other. He gained some speed, then put both feet on and
coasted. It was one smooth ride on a beautiful end-of-summer day. But Charlie wasn’t enjoying it.
Another new neighborhood!
he thought dismally.
Charlie was ten years old. He and his parents had moved seven times. He’d lived in seven new houses, been to seven new schools,
gotten to know seven new neighborhoods. And seven times, he’d tried to fit in and make friends.
Now they’d moved for the eighth time. And did
he believe his mom when she said this was the last house he’d live in? No, he did not!
Immediately, he felt guilty. The new house was special to his mother. It had belonged to
her
mother, Charlie’s grandmother. Grandma Beth had died a few months ago.
“I’m not selling it,” his mother had said to his father. “It’s the houseI grew up in. I want Charlie to grow up in it, too.”
And just like that, they sold their old house, packed up their belongings, and moved —again.
Charlie zigzagged down the sidewalk. His mom was so sad when her mother died. Charlie was sad, too. He had always been able
to tell Grandma Beth anything. Sometimes, she seemed to understand Charlie better than his parents did.
Take sports, for example. Charlie liked to play catch with his dad and shoot hoops with his mom. Whenever they moved, his
parents encouraged him to join one of the teams. “It’s a great way to make friends!” his dad would say.
But Charlie never had fun on teams. He was always the new kid, the one who had to prove he could catch, throw, dribble, kick,
shoot baskets — whatever the sport demanded. Plus, most of his teammates already knew each other. Sometimes they’d let him
into their circle. Sometimes they wouldn’t.
And in the end, it never mattered how well Charlie played or how many friends he made. His family usually moved before the
end of the season. After this happened a few times, Charlie just stopped joining teams.
That didn’t mean Charlie stopped liking sports. He still enjoyed them, but the kind he liked best were the extreme sports
— skateboarding, inline skating, snowboarding. His parents didn’t understand why he wanted to do those kinds of sports instead
of team sports. But his grandmother did. She knew Charlie liked them because he could do them by himself.
Grandma Beth gave Charlie his first skateboard. The top of the board was like most skateboards, covered with tough black grip
tape. The underside was
shiny black with red designs and his initials in bright yellow. It was the coolest board Charlie had ever seen.
“This is what he wants to do,” his grandmother said to his parents. She handed them a second package containing a helmet and
safety pads. “Teach him how to use this stuff safely and responsibly, and he’ll be fine. Trust me.”
So his mother and father signed Charlie up for skateboard lessons and made sure he wore his safety gear at all times. They
also gave him a cell phone to use in case of emergencies. And it was all thanks to his grandmother. Yeah, Charlie was going
to miss her.
He kickturned, spinning on his rear wheels until he was facing the opposite direction. The board slammed down flat. He kicked
off and headed back to his new home.
Charlie coasted to a stop in front of his house. With a stomp of his foot, he popped his board up into his hands.
“Cool move.”
Charlie swung around.
There stood a boy about his own age. He had one foot on a skateboard. A mop of black hair stuck out from under his helmet.
“You been surfing the pavement long?” the boy asked.
Charlie shrugged. “I’ve been skateboarding for about two years, I guess,” he answered.
“So how come I’ve never seen you at the skate-park?”
Charlie’s ears pricked up. “There’s a skatepark around here?”
The boy didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at Charlie’s board. “Whoa. That board is awesome! Can I hold it?”
Charlie hesitated. After all, he didn’t even know this kid’s name.
But what’s he gonna do, jump on and ride off?
Charlie thought. He handed the board to the boy.
The boy spun the red wheels, then traced the red designs with his finger. He pointed to the “C.A.”
“What’s that stand for?” he asked.
“My name, Charlie Abbott.”
“I’m X,” the boy said. When Charlie looked confused, he laughed and added, “It’s short for Xavier. Xavier McSweeney.” He handed
the board back to Charlie. “So, are you here to check out the new family? My mom sent me to get the four-one-one on them.”
“The what?”
“The four-one-one,” X repeated, eyebrows raised. “Don’t you know what that means?”
Charlie shook his head.
“Four-one-one is the phone number you dial for information, right? So getting the four-one-one means getting information.
Sheesh, I thought everyone knew
that.”
Charlie reddened.
“So, you know what I heard?” X said. “I heard the old lady who used to live there
died
in that house! When they carried her out, she looked like this.” He crossed his eyes, stuck his tongue out of the side of
his mouth, and turned his hands into claws. “Man,” he said, going back to normal, “there’s no way
I’d
live in a house where someone died. What if her ghost came through the bathroom door when you were, you know, doing your
business?” He shuddered. “No way!”
Charlie frowned. He didn’t like X calling Grandma Beth an “old lady” or making fun of her death. Besides, he knew for a fact that Grandma Beth had died in a hospital. He decided to set X straight — to give him the 4-1-1.
“Listen —”
X interrupted, “So you wanna go rip it up over at the skatepark?” Without waiting for Charlie to answer, he kicked off on
his skateboard.
Charlie was torn. He wanted to see the skatepark. Then again, he was still burning from Xs little death performance.
But he didn’t know she was your grandmother,
he reminded himself.
And what else are you going to do now? Watch moving men unload furniture? Snoresville!
He put his board to the pavement and shoved off.
Minutes later, Charlie stood open-mouthed at the skatepark gate. In front of him was a slice of extreme-sports heaven. The
park was chock full of equipment. Ramps, pyramids, and boxes took up one part. In another were grinding rails of different
heights. And in the center, not one but two half pipes, complete with decks. There was even an obstacle course.
“Are you going in or what?” X shoved past Charlie. Charlie was about to put his board down and follow him when a hand pulled
him back.
“Hold on just one second.”
The hand belonged to a teenage girl with a spiky
hairstyle and almond-shaped eyes. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“His name’s Charlie and he’s with me, Alison,” X said.
Alison relaxed her grip and grinned. “Sorry to hear that, Charlie,” she said. “Ever been to a skate-park before?”
“Yeah. My old town had one. But it wasn’t anywhere near as good as this one.”
Alison nodded. “Yeah, this is decent. Top of the line and brand new. We almost didn’t get half this stuff, either.”
Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. “’Scuse me.” She stuck her fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. “Hey, you, on
the half pipe!” she bellowed. Her voice was so loud Charlie couldn’t believe it came out of her small body. “Wait your turn
or you’re out of here!”
The girl on the half pipe quickly sat down.
“So anyway,” Alison resumed in a normal voice, “the community center gets permission to build the
park, right? But there’s not a whole lot of money for equipment. We’re thinking, great, the park is going to be lame. Then,
out of the blue, someone donates a whole big wad of cash to the project. So instead of a dinky little park we got this beauty.”
She gazed out at the park with pride.
“Who gave the money?” Charlie asked.
“The donor was anonymous.” She gave a sly grin. “But I’m working on finding out. One of these days, I’ll have the answer.”
She turned to Charlie and gave him the once-over. “Okay, before I let you in, you’ve gotta pass my little test. Ready?”
Charlie nodded.
“First, board down to that fence and back.”
Charlie shoved off, gained some speed, then zigzagged to the fence. Without stopping, he swung around and boarded back to
Alison.
“Not bad,” she said. “Can you do an ollie?”
Charlie put his right foot near the tail of the board and his left near the center. Then he stomped his right foot down hard. At the same time, he slid his left foot forward and jumped into the air. His board came up with him as if
it was attached to his feet. He landed cleanly, both feet still on the board.
