As soon as the bell started ringing, Jimmy Lightning was on his skateboard, and by the time the last ring died away, he was shooting through the front doors of the high school, already on his way to the skate park.
Jimmy's mind wasn't as clear as one would think, though. He was in the middle of a dilemma. He couldn't decide whether he'd rather be a professional skateboarder, surfer, or snowboarder, and the indecision was eating him away on the inside.
On one hand, he liked the universality of skateboarding. He could take his skateboard anywhere and skate anywhere (on land, that was), and he liked that. He could skate to school. He could skate home. It was useful.
On the other hand, snowboarding was fast. And the place you visit to snowboard, they're so beautiful they're extremely beautiful. Unfortunately, they're also extremely expensive. He was going to be making a lot of prize money in his prime, of course, but he still didn't want to widdle that away on lift tickets and high-class-hotel stays.
Surfing had a lot of stuff in the Pro category. Like snowboarding, it took place in beautiful places. (However, with surfing, it was also warm!) And like skateboarding, it was free: nobody owned the Ocean. It was everybody's, man.
One draw-back, though: he didn't know how to surf. Had never done it. Didn't know the first thing about it.
And so not only was his mind troubled, but his soul was crowded with that secret. Jimmy Lightning, the most extreme student at Peggle University, didn't know how to surf.
