Unwanted
DISCLAIMER: Lords of Dogtown does not belong to me. Only Danger does.
--I'll
always remember
It was late afternoon
It lasted forever
And
ended so
soon
--
Chapter 1: Danger in Venice
She sat with the whiskey bottle wrapped in brown paper pressed up to her lips, deep in thought. She had come so far, and yet it felt as if she'd gone nowhere. From Oklahoma to California with a plain lime green and hot pink surfboard strapped to her back, a switchblade and very little money in her pocket. On top of that, she'd just spent her last bit on the bottle. She travelled alone, with only her random liquour bottle to keep her company and the clothes on her back to keep her warm, consisting of a pair of black boardshorts, neon green tanktop, black hoodie and hot pink and black striped armwarmers. She wasn't sponsored, she wasn't professional, she didn't even compete. Surfing was her way of letting go. And she could let go well, someone would later tell her. She'd seen some of the local guys from around here skate, walk, or drive by and glance her way, but no one had given her trouble. Perhaps it was because she quite resembled a boy herself, or at least she thought so. Her platinum blonde locks fell to her chin in ragged, razor-hacked straight pieces, her shocking green eyes pulsed with anger and determination, and the hoodie, well, it was good camoflouging for her un-boylike assets. Her hair always hung in her face, and her voice did not give her away, for she seldom used it.
On this particular summer morning, her back pressed into a pylon underneath a seedy-looking pier, she watched four surfers paddle out after being harassed by what looked like the older, more experienced riders for about an hour. It felt kind of odd watching them, like an intruder, but hey, outta sight, outta mind... for she was well hidden. She went un-noticed for a while, in silent watching of the younger group, but the silence was broken when to her horrendous luck, one of them spotted her. He wasn't anything special, not muscular nor very fit, buy scrawny, with blonde hair a bit longer than hers and a sharp-looking face. She got to her feet and made to walk away, maybe he had just glanced and didn't see anything. She began moving, but no such good luck became her. She was found out.
The kid marched up to her, grabbed a large handful of hair, and pulled back. Hard. "Oi!" She yelped. Her neck was straining as the kid looked into her face. She stared up into the blue cloudless sky, attempting to not give herself away. "What're you doin' here, dude?" He practically hissed, sizing her up. Mistaking her for a guy, she wagered. "Drinking. What does it look like?" She answered in a low voice. "Don't look like it. Looks like you're fixin' for a dip." After this she unknowingly gave herself away by way of realization of gender from the kid not by voice, but by the hoodie she had wrapped around herself unzipped sliding back to reveal her green tank top. It wasn't a great-for-hiding tank, spaghetti strapped with about two inches exposed of her flat abs at the bottom. It didn't help her situation any that the board shorts hung low on her waist. No guy dressed like that. Her secret was out. He released the death grip on her hair in mild surprise as she swung the bottle at him dangerously close to his head, close enough to make him let go but not close enough to actually hit him with it. She had no intention of having a visit with the local law enforcement of Venice, California for any reason, or any time soon.
A second boy clambered out of the waves, heading in their direction. She turned to leave, but the one she had conveniently met beforehand grabbed at her hood. This one looked as if he could do some damage to a person. Curly sun-streaked brown hair, muscular, a bit taller than she preferred... "Jay, who's this dude, you know 'im? I ain't never seen him around here before." This kid was a real winner, she thought, noting his slight Spanish accent as she was wheeled around. "Chick, Tony, and I don't know, she hasn't told me who she is. OR what she's doing here by herself, looking like a guy." Damn him, did he have to give her disguise away to every-freaking-one he knew?
"You don't need to know who I am, or what my business here is. All you need to know is that I love whiskey and surfing." She shot back, taking another swig of said preferred drink. By now the other two had made their way over. "What're you guys...?" One with long blonde hair, aquamarine-turquoise eyes and medium build stopped. "This girl here says she likes whiskey and surfing, Stace. You think we should let her rip and see what the real deal is?" Jay was asking. She used the opportunity of conversation between the supposed friends to glance at the other kid, the only one who hadn't spoken yet. Grungy brown shoulder length hair, brown eyes, skinny, short, grubby looking... not much to work with.
During the current conversation Jay had failed to keep a firm hold on the girl's hoodie, and she soundlessly walked away, real slowly. She had gotten about two feet when the muscular one, Tony, she thought it was, grabbed the back of her sweatshirt, not bothering to go for the hood. "Where do you think you're goin', chica? You love surfing so much, you're gonna surf. Get out there." Why was he sneering? He gave her a shove forward, but she caught herself before she endured any real embarrassment. "Fine." She stalked determinedly into the surf. After charging a couple of swells with no great disasters she paddled back toward shore.
"Damn girl, are you sponsored? What's your name anyway? You shredded those waves." The one she assumed was called Stacy was in awe as she stepped out of the foamy water and onto the sandy beach once more. "Danger. No, I'm not sponsored, and yes, I could kick your ass, so don't even try making fun of my name." She made herself clear. "Don't doubt that. I'm Sid." The short one said, offering his hand. She looked down at it, but didn't shake. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he dropped his grubby little hand. "Never mind him." Stacy half laughed. "You new around here? You gotta nice ass, by the way." Jay said stupidly. She punched him in the stomach. "Yeah, I am. You got nice abs, by the way." She shot back, walking away, hoodie over her wet clothes, surfboard tucked under her left arm. "See you guys 'round. Thanks for lettin' me surf. Good luck with that bruise, Jay." She smiled wickedly. "Hey!" Tony shouted as she rounded the corner. "There's a party at my house tonight, it'll be the only loud one on Cherry Street. If you wanna come." She looked back and made the peace sign. "Right on, I'll be there." She shouted back, and went on her way.