so i'm writing this story...well, sort of. it started out (about 4 or more years ago) as a really shitty, highly juvenile fan fiction. i'm slowly re-writing and re-working it to be a decent story. i'm posting the first chapter here, i would very much appreciate any comments you might have! and let me know if you'd like me too keep posting it. thanks! (oh, i forgot: steal this and die. ::shifty eyes::)
*
Chapter One
Raina
The sound of wheels on concrete mingled with the radio, making it sound like Anaïs and I were in some kind of skate video, but that wasn’t the case. We were just enjoying a sunny New York day in a strangely deserted skate park.
“Sendin’ out the message, to all of my friends...” Pink was singing out from the boombox. Anaïs rolled her eyes.
“Are you sure this is the only station that comes in?” I stuck my tongue out at her.
“You want to try? It took me ages just to find that one!” Anaïs shook her head and headed in the opposite direction. “Oh, ho, ho! That’s what I thought, bitch!! Just admit that I, Raina, am the reigning queen of all!” I skated circles around my best friend, laughing. We had been friends forever, Anaïs and I. Well, sort of forever. She moved to Gualala when we were three. We met in the sandbox and had been best friends ever since.
I ollied over the boombox, making sure not to bump the antenna, lest we lose our perfect reception. As I landed, I noticed a guy watching us from across the park.
“Ai, la! They’ve got us surrounded!” I felt Anaïs come up next to me.
“
Who has us surrounded, Raina?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You know, I think that you have some unresolved hostility issues that a certified psychologist would be able to help you figure out, but that’s another story for another time. As for the matter at hand, I...don’t...know.”
“Let’s see if we can figure this out, shall we? Hmm. Gosh, I have an idea! Maybe because
I’m
famous! Could that possibly be the reason why?” Unless you haven’t figured it out yet, in which case you are on the dull side of sharp and ought to do some mental push ups, you know that Anaïs Dickerson, pop star, is the Anaïs who I’m talking about. Famous she may be, but that doesn’t make her any less of a doofus.
“Nah,” I responded, shaking my head.”I think it’s ‘cause you have a GINORMOUS hole in the butt of your pants.” Sometimes I amaze myself with my abiilty to keep a straight face.
“No joke?” Anaïs gasped, and started twisting around, trying to examine her bum. Doofus, you see?
“No, silly. But
I think he’s watching because I am totally KICK ASS at skating. It’s not like I’ve been doing it for ten years or anything!”
“Whatever. You and I both know that there are only two reasons why he’s staring. (a) I’m famous. And, let’s see...(b) I’m famous!” I was about to send a bitingly witty retort her way, but, as if to re-inforce her point, the radio started playing “Dry My Tears”. I heard my inhibitions hit the concrete as I screamed out “I'm gonna dry my tears and smile again!” and started doing my patented “crazy monkey dance”, looking like a fool and tripping accordingly. After one particularly horrendous misstep, Anaïs hauled me upright.
“C’mon, stop being stupid, Raina.”
“What? It’s your song!”
“You know I didn’t write it!” I laughed in her face.
“You should have thought of that afore you ran about being all punk-ass!” My reward for being a smart-aleck was a cuff on the head. I rubbed it, eyeing Anaïs suspiciously. “Wifebeater.”
“Hey! I’m not!” I laughed, hopped on my board, and quickly got out of range.
“Wiiiiiifeeee beeeeeeaaaattttttaaaaaahhhhhh!” Once I was safe, I noticed the guy still watching.
Good goin’, babe, I thought.
You are now officially one of the infamous New York crazy people!Hey! I argued,
That’s not true! Don’t be stupid. You know the saying: Come for the food, stay for the loons? They wrote it with you in mind. Shut up, you! It’s not like you have a ton of legitamacy, Miss Voice in My Head. You’re just a voice, too. So? I’m...er...special! You’re right about the special... Hey! What are you insinuating? How dare you talk to me like this! I’ll talk to you however I wish. You think I’m afraid of you? If you aren’t, you should be! Whatcha gonna do, punk? Huh? Not so tough now, are ya? That’s right, punk! I closed my eyes and bonked myself in the forehead. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
“Um, excuse me?” I looked up. There was the boy. I had been so busy listening to my voices that I hadn’t noticed him creeping up on me.
“Er, sorry ‘bout that. What can I do for you?” He smiled shyly.
“Do you like Anaïs Dickerson?” he asked, looking up at me through long eyelashes. Now, when I say up, I do mean up, but not too much up. We were about the same height, I might have topped him by an inch or two, but no more. However, bashfulness was causing him to duck his chin a bit, so when it came to eyelevel, we were unequal.
“Yep!” I grinned at Anaïs, who had been watching me, her board propped up on her foot. The boy grinned.
“I’m one of her biggest fans!” I looked down at him, and noticed that he had incredible eyes. A bright, clear blue. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anaïs pull up her hood, don sunglasses (this girl had disguise down, pat, with more than a little help from yours truely), and continue skating.
“Anaïs’s awesome!” was my answer to Mystery Guy.
“You skate really good,” he said.
“Well.”
“What?”
“Well. I skate really
well.”
“Er, yeah,” he blushed. I laughed.
“No worries. Growing up with an english teacher mum is coming back to haunt me.” Relaxing, he laughed too.
“I see.”
“So, do you? Skate, I mean.” A slight hesitation.
“Yeah.”
“Rad. Wanna ride?” A less slight hesitation.
“Sure.” He stepped onto my board, but instead of putting his foot in the right place, he stepped on the end. The board flew forward. He flew backward. It was all rather hilarious, and I could hear Anaïs stifling a chuckle from somewhere behind me. Biting my lip to keep from laughing as well, I retrieved my board and walked over to where he lay looking rather dazed.
“Dude, are you okay?” I asked. I was actually kind of worried; he obviously hadn’t known what he was doing. He gingerly rose to his feet, and dusted himself off.
“Yeah, I guess I’m okay.”
“Good.” I socked him in the shoulder. “’Cause if you die, it’s on me. What say you pop ‘round here tomorrow, at about two, and we can work on a few, er, tricks?” He nodded.
“Sure! Sounds like fun,” he smiled.
“Grand. Bring your board!”
“Okay,” he said, and turned to head back across the park, when I suddenly remembered something.
“Hey!” I yelled. He turned to face me, but kept walking.
“What’s you’re name?”
“Gabe!”
“Groovy! I’m Raina, in case you were wondering!”
“And even if you weren’t,” Anaïs mumbled. I ignored her, giving Gabe a little wave. “It’s our last two weeks in New-Fecking-York, and you’re going to spend it teaching that little shit to skateboard?” I smiled, and watched the retreating figure.
“It shore looks that way, don’t it?”
