You watch from the shade of the overgrown trees that hide you in the bramble thicket well enough so no one notices your presence. You just sit, biting your lip with your obnoxiously chipped and weird teeth that cause some of your trademark lisp, holding a yellow and black skateboard between your arm and side. The sun is finally just setting on the dull cement of the skate-park and when everyone is gone you slink from the shadows and then use your foot to roll gently on the board with ease. This was the only time you ever felt something you haven't felt in a long time. Happy. That word is very hard to find now in your vocabulary, and not just speaking-wise. Nudging your helmet, the red and blue shades of it covering your eyes, you skid down rails, flip the board a few times and manage to not get hurt this one time. You must be getting better with all the practice!
You awkwardly fumble with your helmet again, which is actually an all-time accessory that you wear twenty-four seven, usually your mother always telling you to wear it. She must be ashamed of what happened. If you did take off your helmet, you could see the obvious red scars that went through your bangs, ran down your forehead and met at your eyes, and the strikingly blue veins that appeared when you hurt your head too much. Your shrug off the feelings that were beginning to build up inside you and sigh, releasing a breath of hurt. Moonlight reflects of the cold rails of the park and you sit with your legs swinging over the side of drop. You can see the glitter of the snowy stars that are high above now through your two-colored lens and nearly fall asleep from exhaustion. It wouldn't have been the first time that happened.
Not like anyone cares or anything.
Then something warm presses up against your shoulder and HOLY SHIT-you yelp and fall backwards. How threatening and manly you must look. You whip around with wide, scared eyes to a black haired girl with pretty rad triangular glasses. She grins and you feel your heart beating out of control.
"Sorry man, I didn't mean to startle you."
You don't respond. You are NOT going to freak out or anything, nor even try to speak due to your speech impediment. You shake your head and hold your board close to your chest, frightened.
"Can…I sit next to you?"
This question takes you by surprise. No one has ever asked for your judgment before. You slowly nod before relaxing as the girl sits next to you, and look, she has an awesome skate-board too. You had never met this girl, not even seen her before, but she acted as if she knew you. Could she not tell there was something wrong with you?
"What's your name?"
You freeze in obvious panic and she notices. Then she takes a finger and traces in the gravel of the asphalt they sat in, spelling out a name in the grey pebbles. Her name.
L4TUL4
You found it interesting that she wrote her name with the letter 4 for A. It was different and cute. She then took your hand and placed your hand next to it, patting it gently. A blush crept up your face as she held it and you wobbly traced your own name next to hers, but yours so off it was sickening to you. You follow her writing quirk and it actually looks good. Or…that's what you think anyway. God, were you always so weird?
M17UN4
She stops to look at your name and she grins at you widely and you feel a smile play across your lips too. Her blue eyes stand out in the darkness and her red glasses make them look a little purple. She looks between you and your name, and finally reaches out and holds to your wrist.
"It's nice to meet you Mituna."
The way she said your name makes a shiver run down your back. She studies your skateboard and you realize she's trying to find the brand of it. You hold it out with shaky hands. Her teeth glint again as she smiles. Her fingers run across the boards round surface and she uses a gloved hand to spin the wheels while you watch with amusement. It's the first time you've had contact with someone and they don't treat you as if you're an animal. It makes you feel…happy.
"Lush Tula! I love that brand!"
She holds out her board and you see it's the same brand, just in teal and black than your yellow. You nod, smiling, your dagger like teeth protruding from your mouth. The girl stands up and you nearly protest as cold wind replaces the warmth she gave from sitting next to you, but all that comes out is a pathetic whine. You NEVER whine. What the hell?
She giggles, "Don't worry, I'm not leaving." Her foot rests on her skateboard. A relief washes through you. It must be from the comfort of a person who is actually nice. And suddenly, she is doing amazing stunts that you couldn't manage in ten years. It could be from your clumsiness, or your problem. She's amazing is a weak way of putting it. All you could do was stare in awe. You would occasionally squeak and gasp at her extreme stunts and get her to laugh. Her black hair would occasionally flip into her face and you wanted to take a hand to push it away. You want her to help you learn such moves, holding you steady on your board and talking in her mesmerizing, calm voice. You want her to be your friend. You want but can't have. You can't have anything because like your mother told you, life isn't fair. Latula continued for about five minutes until she strode over to your side and sat down again. She blinks at you for a moment before pulling a piece of paper and pen from her pocket and wrote something down neatly. When she hands it to you, you have to look closely at it before you realize what it is. It's her phone number. Your heart is so loud; you can hear it in your ears.
"Bye Mituna!" She winks at you before walking down the gravel path and waving goodbye and suddenly she's gone. You spend the rest of the night using a shaking finger to draw a heart in-between your names.