Verse 1) I laced up pink wheels, checked my face in the glass, Spinning disco ball lighting, forgetting my science class. Skateland is packed and the music is loud, But it’s not enough noise to drown out my mind. Rolling past the arcade, trying to look cool, But the middle school drama followed us out of school. Sticky floors, cherry slushies, concession-stand fries— Just trying to survive without falling in front of their eyes. (Verse 2) Then the chaos begins: my fourth-grade cousin runs wild, Chasing my best friend CC like a crazy child. No ring pop or grand gesture by the prize booth door, He just stands there completely blunt on the floor. He asks, "I like you, do you like me back?" out loud. CC’s in fifth grade; she feels too old for this crowd. Mortified and turning red, she’s ready to fight, Frantically hunting for an exit sign to escape for the night. (Verse 3) She skates over, ripping my arm, losing her grip, Whispering, “Your cousin is psycho, someone make him trip!” Dodging behind velvet ropes, using plush prizes as a shield, Hoping the Hokey Pokey forces him off the field. But he’s a fourth-grade menace, ignoring the cues, Leaving peppermint wrappers in his light-up shoes. CC rolls backward, throwing me desperate pleas, While he does the limbo just to get her to look at his knees. (Verse 4) It gets funnier because whenever our friends take a spill, My cousin wipes out on purpose with dramatic skill. If CC stumbles, he drops like a stuntman in a show, Bruising his elbows as he slides down low. Committed to the bit, crashing hard every time, Ignoring her sharp remarks, acting totally fine. A literal comedy routine on wheels for the room, While CC covers her face, wishing for a costume. (Verse 5) Then my attention shifts—Simon’s by the neon wall, A ninth-grade freshman, impossibly handsome and tall. Gliding on custom black speed skates, ruling the ring, My stomach flips, though I wouldn't call it a crush thing. I skate closer for water, passing where the high schoolers stand, Just looking for a familiar face in this crowded land. He tosses his hair, talking to the older kids like royalty on wheels, While I grip the half-wall, sorting through how a seventh grader feels. (Verse 6) The thing is, Simon and I aren’t close, we just see each other around, At school or when these random family events come to town. Our families have known each other for three years straight, But passing by, his greetings carry very little weight. He looks right at me and goes, "Hey... u?" trailing off low, Like the actual letters of my name completely flew. A tiny bit of recognition, a quick half-hearted nod, But having to fill in the blank feels painfully alien and odd. (Verse 7) Then I overhear him talking to his circle under the neon glow, Asking, "Who’s that short seventh grader with the glitter, does anyone know?" Three years of seeing me, and I'm just a nameless mystery guest, Stabbing like a plastic butter knife straight into my chest. I’m just an invisible, insignificant, younger kid to him, Living in a world where my identity is totally dim. A background character in his life, just watching the scene— But instead of crying, something snaps, and I get mean. (Verse 8) I skate right to his circle before my confidence dies, Standing with tenth-grader Chloe and eighth-grader Ginny before his eyes. I look him dead in the face: "Are you serious, Simon? It’s been three years!" And the whole world goes completely quiet, freezing my fears. Chloe stops talking, Ginny just stares, a heavy silence drops, Simon freezes mid-sentence, completely locked up as the world stops. No one says a word, the quiet is louder than the bass, I drop my name like a mic and skate away from the place. (Verse 9) Honestly, I just laugh now, it’s really not a huge deal, Wounding my pride for a second, but it's not a massive grudge to feel. Truth is, my feelings on Simon are still up in the air, It’s just the principle—how do you completely forget I'm there? But I stood my ground, and it feels completely right. The couples skate starts, and they turn down the light. CC and I lock eyes, knowing how this has to go, Linking arms tightly as the music starts to flow. The only two single survivors of the middle school fight, Gliding side-by-side under the flashing purple strobe light.
