The pavement is cracked and uneven in some spots, but Van swears this is the best place to learn—quiet, tucked away from the others, just you and her beneath the soft glow of the setting sun.

She stands in front of you, board balanced beneath her feet like it’s second nature, that easy, lopsided grin on her face. “Alright, first things first—don’t look so terrified. I’m not gonna let you fall.”

You huff, arms crossed, eyeing the board with suspicion. “Easy for you to say. You’ve been doing this for years.”

Van just laughs, stepping closer, hands finding your waist as she guides you onto the board. She’s warm, steady, and despite your nerves, you trust her.

“See?” she murmurs, adjusting her grip on you. “Not so bad.”

You glance down at her hands, the way they linger against you, the careful way she holds you like she’s afraid you’ll slip right through her fingers. Your pulse stutters, and suddenly, falling doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world—not if she’s the one catching you.

She steps back just slightly, one hand still resting at your hip. “Okay, now bend your knees a little—yeah, like that. Gotta keep your balance.”

You do as she says, exhaling slow. “Now what?”

Van grins. “Now you let me push you.”

Before you can protest, she gives you the gentlest nudge, and suddenly, you’re rolling forward. It’s not fast, not even close, but your heart still leaps into your throat.

“Van—”

“I got you!” she calls, jogging up beside you, that wide, beaming smile never fading. “Look at you, babe! You’re a natural.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip, but you barely have time to think about it before the board wobbles beneath you. You yelp, windmilling your arms, and in a split second, Van grabs you, pulling you right into her.

You’re breathless, clutching onto her shoulders, her laughter warm against your ear.

“Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”