CHAPTER 8
Hannah was up third out of the six half-pipe competitors. When it was her turn, she climbed the steps to the top of the pipe. At the lip, she leaned back on the tail of her board so the rest of it stuck out over the ramp. Then she dropped in.
Hannah’s first trick was her perfect Indy 360. On the next pass, she grinded both trucks from one side of the lip to the other, and then finished with a 180 off the lip.
“Nice one, Han!” Conner cheered from the stands. He spotted Hank on the other side of the pipe, waiting for his turn. The bully glared at him.
Hannah finished up the first of her two thirty-second runs on the half-pipe with a long handplant and grab. She stayed suspended on the lip for the final few seconds of her run. The crowd went crazy.
When the buzzer sounded, Conner hurried over to meet her. “That handstand was amazing!” he said. “When did you practice that?”
“When do you think?” Hannah said, smiling. “The past few weeks while you were on the street course.”
They both watched Slim to see how she’d done. He held up a score of eight.
“Yes!” Hannah said, pumping her fist.
Hank’s friend Drew was up next.
“Isn’t Hank doing this event?” Conner asked.
Hannah shrugged. “I guess not,” she said.
They watched as Drew dropped into the half-pipe. He was good — but not as good as Hank. Even still, he pulled off a perfect 540 rotation. Conner noticed Hannah’s smile faded a little when he did.
“You were just as good as he is,” Conner said. “One trick doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe,” said Hannah.
Then Slim held up Drew’s score of nine, and Hannah looked even more worried than before.
Hannah’s second turn on the half-pipe was just as strong as her first — until the very end. She went for the 540 air. She missed the full turn, though, and her board got away from her. She slid down the ramp on her back and rolled onto her stomach.
The crowd gasped and then went silent.
“Hannah!” Conner shouted. “Are you okay?”
Hannah nodded and climbed to her knees as the timer ran out. The crowd cheered. Slim put up her score: seven.
Conner felt an elbow in his side. “Ow,” he said, turning. Hank stood next to him, snarling.
“Your girlfriend blew it,” Hank said. “And now you’re about to blow it on the street course. Against me.”