Dropping the board to the ground, CJ steps up on it and swears he feels the wood buckle beneath his weight. Cautiously, he starts across the lot, ignoring a car horn that blats as the board shudders under his sneakers. He’s never had to push a board so hard to get it moving, this is ridiculous. Brendan thinks so too—even from this distance CJ can hear his silly laugh. “Shut up,” he growls, though Brendan either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care because he sure as hell doesn’t listen. No wonder Mick’s so surly all the time. CJ would be too if this damn plank was his. Halfway back to the sidewalk, he hits a spot of cracked tarmac and the board shudders like he’s trying to skate an earthquake. “Holy—”