One Smooth Move by Matt Christopher

CHAPTER ONE
    Charlie Abbott put one foot on his skateboard and pushed off with the other. He gained some speed, then put both feet on and
     coasted. It was one smooth ride on a beautiful end-of-summer day. But Charlie wasn’t enjoying it.
    Another new neighborhood!
he thought dismally.
    Charlie was ten years old. He and his parents had moved seven times. He’d lived in seven new houses, been to seven new schools,
     gotten to know seven new neighborhoods. And seven times, he’d tried to fit in and make friends.
    Now they’d moved for the eighth time. And didhe believe his mom when she said this was the last house he’d live in? No, he did not!
    Immediately, he felt guilty. The new house was special to his mother. It had belonged to
her
mother, Charlie’s grandmother. Grandma Beth had died a few months ago.
    “I’m not selling it,” his mother had said to his father. “It’s the houseI grew up in. I want Charlie to grow up in it, too.”
     And just like that, they sold their old house, packed up their belongings, and moved —again.
    Charlie zigzagged down the sidewalk. His mom was so sad when her mother died. Charlie was sad, too. He had always been able
     to tell Grandma Beth anything. Sometimes, she seemed to understand Charlie better than his parents did.
    Take sports, for example. Charlie liked to play catch with his dad and shoot hoops with his mom. Whenever they moved, his
     parents encouraged him to join one of the teams. “It’s a great way to make friends!” his dad would say.
    But Charlie never had fun on teams. He was always the new kid, the one who had to prove he could catch, throw, dribble, kick,
     shoot baskets — whatever the sport demanded. Plus, most of his teammates already knew each other. Sometimes they’d let him
     into their circle. Sometimes they wouldn’t.
    And in the end, it never mattered how well Charlie played or how many friends he made. His family usually moved before the
     end of the season. After this happened a few times, Charlie just stopped joining teams.
    That didn’t mean Charlie stopped liking sports. He still enjoyed them, but the kind he liked best were the extreme sports
     — skateboarding, inline skating, snowboarding. His parents didn’t understand why he wanted to do those kinds of sports instead
     of team sports. But his grandmother did. She knew Charlie liked them because he could do them by himself.
    Grandma Beth gave Charlie his first skateboard. The top of the board was like most skateboards, covered with tough black grip
     tape. The underside wasshiny black with red designs and his initials in bright yellow. It was the coolest board Charlie had ever seen.
    “This is what he wants to do,” his grandmother said to his parents. She handed them a second package containing a helmet and
     safety pads. “Teach him how to use this stuff safely and responsibly, and he’ll be fine. Trust me.”
    So his mother and father signed Charlie up for skateboard lessons and made sure he wore his safety gear at all times. They
     also gave him a cell phone to use in case of emergencies. And it was all thanks to his grandmother. Yeah, Charlie was going
     to miss her.
    He kickturned, spinning on his rear wheels until he was facing the opposite direction. The board slammed down flat. He kicked
     off and headed back to his new home.

CHAPTER TWO
    Charlie coasted to a stop in front of his house. With a stomp of his foot, he popped his board up into his hands.
    “Cool move.”
    Charlie swung around.
    There stood a boy about his own age. He had one foot on a skateboard. A mop of black hair stuck out from under his helmet.
    “You been surfing the pavement long?” the boy asked.
    Charlie shrugged. “I’ve been skateboarding for about two years, I guess,” he answered.
    “So how come I’ve never seen you at the skate-park?”
    Charlie’s ears pricked up. “There’s a skatepark around here?”
    The boy didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at Charlie’s board. “Whoa.