Disclaimer: Do I look like JP to you? ...Don't answer that.
A/N: Your reviews make my day (: Thanketh you muchly. And you guys all have awesome taste in music (: Sorry this is late:
I've finished 2 books in the days I haven't posted [one of which was the last in the Percy Jackson series... PERCABETH FTW!] and I have another 2 I want to finish (:
I bought Mario Galaxy 2. Addicted doesn't quite cover it. 'Nuff said [avid gamer alert].
...I just haven't had time.
Sorry! I promise you'll get at least 2 chapters a week (: Enjoyeth...
"The knack is to get your feet positioned right," I told Fang, grinding down a metal rod. He'd been watching me for a while, and I felt bad that he didn't have his own board. See? I'm such a kind, sweet-natured... oh, shut up.
"No," Iggy called over from where he was in line for a huge ramp that pretty much made you feel like you were weightless. "The knack is to throw yourself into the air, and hope you miss the ground... wait, that's flying..."
"Idiot," I rolled my eyes. He just grinned at me, shoving Sam off the edge as he hesitated in front of him. "Anyway..." I turned back to Fang, who was watching Ig amusedly with his dark eyes. "Think you can handle it?"
"Sure," he grabbed the board from me, and positioned it carefully before stepping on. "See? I can totally-" he cut off in a surprisingly girly scream as I pushed him. On flat ground. But of course, the idiot leaned forward, and went zooming off. Laughing, I took off after him, catching him by the arm before he could have his face rearranged by the brick wall he was heading towards (unfortunately, I'm talking from experience).
"Are you okay?" I asked, letting go of his arm. He leapt off my board like it was burning his feet (I wish). "I didn't hurt you, right?"
"I hate you," he glared at me again, but I could see the humour glinting in his eyes.
"What shoes are you wearing?" I ignored him (as always). "You need grippy ones. Converse are awesome." Rolling his eyes, he pulled his jeans leg up (not in that way... ew) to reveal black Converse almost identical to mine, 'cept mine had silver stars drawn over them, because they're just that cool.
"Converse," he said, stating the obvious.
"Oh. You're just crap at skateboarding then." I winked to show him I was joking, and he just rolled his eyes at me again, picked up my board and chucked it at me. I caught it lightly, and raised an eyebrow questioningly (It took me hours looking into a mirror, but I finally got the knack of it, to Iggy's major annoyance – he still can't do it. Ha).
"If you're so good..." he stepped back slightly to give me space. "Prove it."
And there, folks, is what shows he's still got a way to go before he's really one of us. When I'm not singing, I'm skateboarding. But I can't board without music, ever. It's like my life source.
"Sure," I smiled cockily, knowing that I sounded like a arrogant shit and not really caring, because when it comes to skateboarding? I can afford to be.
Pulling my headphones out of my pocket, I shoved them into my ears after checking I had Muse blasting out of them, and jumped onto the board, not even flinching when it rolled forward a few centimetres under my feet. Fang leapt back another foot or so, and I laughed at him.
"I'm not going to run you over," I promised, shouting over The Resistance, but he just nodded.
"Go on then."
"I will."
"You're clearly not."
"...Get lost." I pushed off with my foot before he could retaliate, then started to gain speed quickly. Wind rushed straight past me, whipping through my hair and sending it flying behind me, like an endless stream of water. This is one of those times when I'd like nothing better to fly.
As I approached a railing, I sneaked a look behind me, at Fang, and was satisfied to see him looking almost gob-smacked. Not exactly, because he's like an emotionless brick wall, but I'm sure if he wasn't, his jaw would be on the floor. Not literally, because that's disgusting, but you know (actually, you probably don't, but you shouldn't say that, because then it could equate to bullying. Bet you didn't know that).
Bending my knees, I felt the board give underneath me as I flew into the air, landing perfectly on the railing underneath me. I leant from one side to the other to keep from falling off. You know, this would be so much cooler if there were sparks jumping out from either side. But no. We just get this horrible screeching sound, which means we're grinding properly. Go figure. The end was nearing me, so I jumped up, my tiptoes just barely brushing against one side of it. It flipped underneath me, a full somersault, and I allowed myself a grin as I landed back on top of it, this time safely on solid ground.
Well. That was fun. Not one of my best rides, but hey. Fun.
"You just owned me," Fang said, surprising me: I hadn't realised he'd come up behind me.
"Nah," I shrugged. "Just loads of practice." See? I'm seriously cocky sometimes, but I'm not all that I'm made up to be. I'm just... I dunno. Just weird like that. I don't mind dishing out insults (not really all that seriously), and being all arrogant, but as soon as someone actually compliments me? I'm all shy. It kind of pisses me off, but I guess it's better than being oh so proud of myself, and completely up my own arse, right?
"Got nothing better to do?" Fang's face was serious, but his eyes were light, teasing, the only trace of emotion visible.
"What, and you have?"
"Oh, yeah," he almost smiled, but at the last moment, he managed to turn it into a lip spasm. "I was the captain of... uh..."
"Can't think of a sport?" I laughed. "Oh, wait, let me guess... cheer-leading?" I cracked up as he glowered at me.
"Not exactly," he shoved me a little, and I turned round and shoved him right back, still laughing.
"Whatever. Want another go?" I thrust my board under his nose, then giggled as he quickly moved away. "Scared, Fang?"
"Nope," he rolled his eyes. "Drinks on me?" He gestured to a little café across the street, all cutesy red and white gingham patterned parasols and white wooden furniture. It looked like somewhere Lissa and her gang of Barbies would haunt, but if Fang was offering... and I was kind of thirsty... It wasn't like anyone we knew would see us.
"Nice change of the subject there... but okay," I finally agreed, tucking my board under my arm again. "I'll get the guys..." He nodded, following me as I moved through the park. A few people nodded at me respectfully; I knew most of the kids here through various competitons, and even a couple through band stuff. Only one or two people from school ever came here, seeing as our school's kind of cracked up to be all posh (I laughed. Hard) and all us skaters have got a crappy reputation, thanks to a couple of idiots who decided it'd be 'fun' to try and vault themselves over the big chain-lock fences. Using each other. Idiots.
I finally spotted them at the top of an otherwise deserted ramp, Ig and Sam in the middle of an argument, Dylan watching them. He leant his head into the palms of his hands, bored as hell despite his headphones jammed into his ears. He never got involved with any arguments, really. He was just like that. Getting along with everybody. Mediator kinda guy. If anyone was gonna see ghosts, it would be him. Not that he's creepy or anything, he's just... mellow. Yeah.
"Dyl!" I shouted loudly, but it was useless. WTH was he listening to? I settled for waving my hands like an idiot (the things I go through for my friends...). When he didn't notice me, I rolled my eyes, and, muttering under my breath, headed up the steps to the platform where they were stood.
"No way!" Ig was saying to Sam, "you're lying!"
"It's a scientific fact, Ig," Sam rolled his eyes. "Dinosaurs are proven to exist, Pokemon are a bunch of coloured pixels in an addictive game." Ig shook his head vigorously.
"I'm disappointed in you, Sam, I would've thought you'd see through the lies..." he looked at him disappointedly before finally noticed me, just standing there watching them. "Oh, hey, guys." Oh. Fang was behind me.
"Hey!" Sam greeted us, smiling at me, and raising his fist to Fang... hang on, WTF? They're not going to fight are... oh. They just pounded fists. I feel stupid.
"Max, will you please tell Sam that dinosaurs were a lie fed to us by evil scientists in order to cover the existence of Pokemon?" Iggy said, almost in one breath, which to be honest was just as surprising as the time I found out Lady Gaga wrote her own songs (I'm telling you, that girl must have a seriously messed up mind: I want your disease? I rest my case).
"...Iggy, your stupidity never fails to amaze me." I didn't miss a beat.
"Thank you!" Sam raised his arms to the heavens (at least, I think that's what he was doing. He might have been calling birds for all I know, though that's really something I'd expect Iggy to do, being the idiot he is). "I rest my case."
"Traitor!" Iggy jabbed his finger at me. "This is just like you skiving math class!" I must've looked slightly murderous, because he quickly dropped that subject, turning to Fang. "Fang! Tell him!" he appealed.
I glanced back at Fang, and found him much closer than I'd thought he was. So that was why my back was so warm: his iron chest was almost pressed against it. Maybe it's an iron radiator chest? I bet the Hulk has one of them. Or maybe surfers, 'cos they're like never cold on TV when they come out of the water. Not that I watch them, or anything. Ever. Like, at all. Not even a glimpse. Ella does, though. Practically glued to the TV. Unlike me. Cue shifty look.
Our eyes met for a second, and I could see that, inside, he was laughing. On the outside? Emotionless brick wall. Tactically, I took a small half-step forward, away from him. It wasn't that it wasn't comfortable, or anything, but it was kind of... weird. We were just good friends. Very, very good friends, already verging on best friends. But you know. Weird.
"I think..." Fang took his time deliberating. "This is stupid."
"Agreed," Dylan said, having pulled his headphones out at last.
"Thirded," I added in.
"He started it!" Sam defended himself, pointing at Iggy, who held his hands up in surrender.
"Pokemon will rule the world," was his parting shot before he set off down the ramp, tearing down it fast as a comet.
"Idiot," Sam muttered, stating the obvious.
"No, they won't," I rolled my eyes.
"I will," Fang finished. I turned on him, eyebrows raised.
"I believe we've already discussed this."
"I believe we have."
"And the outcome was?"
"As previously stated."
"Did I mention I hate you?"
"I believe you have," he paused. "Multiple times."
"Yeah, well-"
"Oh, shut up," Sam cut in, rolling his eyes at both of us. "You're as immature as Ig!" I gasped: that was a true insult.
"Yeah," Dylan joined in. "And what's with all the Shakespeare stuff?"
"Shakespeare stuff?" Fang and I said simultaneously, equally confused.
"You know," Dylan said vaguely. "All the posh language stuff..." Fang and I exchanged a puzzled look, before I figured it out (see, I'm not as stupid as you all obviously think).
"Oh," I shrugged. "Dunno. Just how we roll, right, Fang?" I got the feeling he didn't have a clue what the hell I was on about, but like the true trooper he is, he high-fived me right back instead of leaving me hanging which I was afraid he'd do. Ig does it all the time.
Speaking of Ig, he was still racing up and down the ramp, flipping flashily as he reached the ends each time, muttering something about Pikachu shocking us to death. And, may I just ask, WTF is a Pikachu? Is it like a poking thing? A guitar? Sigh. So many questions.
"Anyway," Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets, ignoring Iggy like we'd all practised at for many, many years. "What'd you want?"
Huh? Oh, yeah. We'd actually come up here for a purpose. Well, you learn new things every day.
"Oh, yeah," I grinned, trying to cover up my momentary memory loss (my brain never did come back from Hawaii. Guess it just likes hula dancing... ew, I just pictured that). "Fang's buying drinks, at the caf. Coming?"
"That one?" Sam asked doubtfully, pointing to the little café across the road. I nodded.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Everything," Dylan pointed out helpfully (note the sarcasm there).
"Hey!" Well, the café wasn't about to defend itself... "People don't look at you and say, 'Ew, what's wrong with that? Everything!' do they?"
Everyone just looked at me for a second, before bursting out laughing.
"Priceless," Dylan choked out between laughing.
"Max..." Sam just shook his head at me, joining Dylan in his laughing fit. Even Fang was chuckling to himself.
I obviously just have the ability to make people laugh. And I deliberately worded that so I sounded like a superhero. I'm just that cool. Uh, yeah, not.
"Whatever," I felt my cheeks flush a little. "You coming, or not?"
"What's in it for us?" Iggy called over from the opposite platform, where he'd obviously been listening to everything we'd been saying. Typical. He storms off, then comes crawling back to us... okay, not exactly, but that's the vision I have in my head, so don't ruin it for me.
"Free drinks," Fang called over, a half-smile gracing his lips.
"Duh," I added for extra measure. Ig stuck his tongue out at me.
"I'm in, then," he winked at us. "Just let me put my board away..."
"Yeah, same," Sam gave in. "Right behind you, Pokemon Master."
"Finally! My true title has been recognised!" I heard Iggy say as they headed off together. I was glad to see Sam whack him over the head with his skateboard as I wasn't there to do it myself.
"Save me," Dylan muttered, rolling his eyes before smiling at me. "Chuck us your board, Max, we'll meet you guys over there. Get us a good seat, would you?"
He pulled my board out of my grasp and traipsed off, leaving me completely surprised. Since when did the guys do nice things for me? They were really my best friends ever, but we have an unofficial agreement that our entire relationship's based on arguments, pranks and insults. It's just the way we stick together. We can slag each other off something rotten to one another (never seriously, of course), but say one word against any of us, and you'll have the wrath of all six of us on you (me, Iggy, Dylan, Sam, Ella and Nudge).
"Come on," Fang said quietly, touching my elbow to grab my attention from wherever it had been (I'm pretty sure it joined my brain in Hawaii. Just a sneaking suspicion).
We strolled over to the little café, taking our time in the glorious sunshine. It was probably the last of it we'd get for a while, seeing as it was the middle of September. Just starting hockey season, which, though I'd never admit, I was seriously looking forward to.
"I thought you'd already said no to the café?" Fang asked as we crossed the road, avoiding the heavy traffic.
"Meh," I shrugged. "Lissa and that lot prefer Starbucks. It's just over-priced enough to complain about all the time to the waitresses."
"I'm not surprised," he muttered darkly as we pushed open the over-decorated vanilla-covered door. It let out a soft tinkle as we walked in. It was just as girly inside as it was outside: heart-shaped lanterns floating above the tables, all cream tablecloths with soft cushioned chairs, lit with gentle pink light. Fang sniffed, then covered his nose: it smelt overpoweringly like my Mum's greenhouse (not surprising, considering the amount of time she spends in there. Apparently, it's her favourite child. Then it's Ella. Then it's Nudge, Ella's twin sister she never had. Then it's Iggy, the son she never had. Then it's the rest of the population of the United States. Then it's the population of the UK, Australia... every country you can ever think of, then it's me. She loves me really).
"Ew," I whispered, just loudly enough so he could hear.
"Tell me about it," he whispered back, before ordering five Cokes and practically running outside.
"God," I said as soon as we'd both escaped. "Can it stink any more in there?"
"I know," Fang brushed his way-too-long fringe out of his eyes. "It sucks." We sat down at one of the more bare picnic tables opposite each other.
"Man, it's so hot!" I pulled my hoodie off, revealing the My Chemical Romance t-shirt beneath (that was one hell of a concert. We'd had such a freaking awesome time. Legendary night. No kidding).
"Tell me about it," Fang repeated, unzipping his own black jacket. Underneath, he was wearing a black and blue Zutons t-shirt. "So..."
"So..." I leant my elbows on the table, placing my chin in my palms.
"You know when I rule the world?" I glared at him. "When one of us rules the world," he quickly corrected, rolling his eyes. "What are you gonna do?"
Hm. Actually, I'd never thought about it. I'd just figured I'd kill anyone who seriously annoyed me (*cough*Lissa*cough*) and take it from there really.
"I guess I'll just re-build human civilisation," I shrugged. "To my liking."
"Of course," Fang nodded. "If you could only have three different professions left to train for, in the whole world, which would you choose?"
Hey, that reminded me of one of the many sci-fi books I read: all about only letting so many different cliques survive, or allowing different types of people in, etc.
"Doctors, obviously. Probably scientists. And the people who invented Converse." It was a no-brainer, if I was being honest. "You?"
He chuckled a little; he seemed to be doing that in the last hour more than he had over two days.
"Same," he agreed. "Except guitarists, as well."
"You said three jobs," I reminded him. "So instead of who?"
"Scientists," he said. "Duh."
We laughed together for a moment, then our eyes met again. You know, he's got quite nice eyes, really. Very dark brown. Almost obsidian-coloured. Nearly black. Not quite, though, he's got little specks of hazel spitting out around his pupil.
Not that I noticed, or anything.
"Hey, guys!" Sam sank down on the far side of my bench as the waitress came out, the tray of drinks balanced precariously in her hand. Iggy sat beside Fang as Dylan flopped down beside me, nodding at me in acknowledgement.
We talked, for what seemed like hours, about pretty much everything that we'd never needed to talk about. Pokemon, Harry Potter, who would win in a death match between Voldermort and Gazzy (Gazzy, if you were wondering. He'd just gas the Lord of Darkness, and that would be the end of that) and the ultimate chick flick (She's The Man, according to Iggy. He was questioned thoroughly as to his sexuality, I can assure you).
"Shouldn't we be headed back?" Sam finally asked, once we were onto our fourth cokes, watching the sun disappear, leaving only hazy beams of light as a reminder of its visit.
"Nah," Iggy said from his spot lazing on the grass beside our table. "It's ages 'till eight." Eight was the established curfew for all of us. Seven pm if Iggy was with us.
"Right now," I said with a smile, "I just want to watch the sun roll in with my best friends." They all turned and gave me sweet smiles, even Fang. What can I say? The sun softens us all.
And that was how I came to be lying on the grass, sandwiched between Iggy and Fang, outside Aunt Bessie's Tea Pot, until long after eight, just living, laughing, and, more than anything, feeling alive. With my best friends.
A/N: Aw. (: Anyone guess what song I stole some lyrics from for that last scene? It's an All Time Low song [yet again]. Sorry for not replying to any reviews for the last chapter, I'm just rushing to get this one up, but I promise I'll reply to any for this chapter.
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