“Mine feel loose,” says Doodles, sitting on a bench while bass from the speakers thumps through the floor. “I might fall.”
Disco sits next to him. “Would it help if I pulled your laces tighter?”
“Sure—thanks.”
She tugs up the laces, the leather groaning until she finishes in two crisp knots. “How’s that?”
“Better! Thank you, Disco.”
“You’re welcome! Ready to go out there now?”
Doodles watches a blur of skaters whiz past. He sighs and shakes his head. “Nope.”