Disclaimer: Sorry I forgot one before. Anyways, previously and henceforth, all characters and likenesses associated with "Brink" belong to the Disney Channel. I just borrow them. Hallie is mine, as are any situations or characters not referenced to in the tv movie. Cuhner and Baltzac are my names for the two replacement members of "X-Bladz", and Hunter is my name for the dude on the team who talked, but was never named. So there!
In short, if you don't know where it came from, I probably own it. If you're sure you've seen it before, I probably don't.
Chapter 2
Val
I must be some sort of masochist or whatever. Honest! Either that, or I'm just a glutton for punishment. Otherwise, why would I be here, back at the skate park, at 5:30 AM on a Saturday morning?
I hope that girl doesn't come out again. Don't get me wrong, she's hot and all, but she owns the place and I really don't want to get kicked out. Which is why I'm sitting at the top of the half-pipe, legs hanging over the side, staring at the quickly lightening east. Yup, another exciting day in Pacifica on the right side of the tracks.
Massaging my right shoulder, I think back on how I got the bruise under my long-sleeved tee. I'd come home from working at the local library a little early, seeing as it was Friday and all. Yup, Val Horrigan, the fearless former leader of Team X-Bladz, working at a library. Anyways, I come home early, and for some reason or other, Dad's mad at Stacie. Again. Anyways, he's rearing up to hit her, and I dash in between the two. His fist comes down on my shoulder, and I'm sure Stace saw me wince. I turn around and glare at Dad, and he takes a step back. Eyes rimmed red, and pupils are all... whatever. It doesn't matter, because I can tell he's been smoking his shit again. Quickly, I tell Stacie to pack her overnight bag and send her next door, to old Mrs. Wilkes. She's crazy about cats, taking care of about twenty or so, and because the cats can tolerate Stacie, she can too. Anyways, I send her over to Mrs. Wilkes, and face dad, ready for another night of arguing about him going to NA and detox and everything. It never makes any difference, though. He does what he does, and doesn't give a flying fig tree what I do, so long as it doesn't involve an investment from him. That's practically how I got started on X-Bladz anyway, back when I skated for the fun of it.
Which reminds me. Why am I sitting here like a schmuk when I could be skating before mystery-girl catches me? The sun's practically up now, and Saturday's a big business day for most skate parks in this district.
Standing and stretching my arms over my head, I eye the halfpipe. Launching myself onto the curve, I laugh as the first rush of adrenaline overtakes me, erasing all thoughts of Dad and his problems, old Mrs. Wilkes's cats, and everything else that is messed up in my life from my mind.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Hallie
What the fuck? Whatever the hell time it is, someone's going to pay for waking me up. I glare in the general direction of the clock, and *thwack* it with my hand.
"Five forty ay-em."
Brilliant. Just brilliant. I close my eyes and try to get back to sleep when I hear something. The sound of skates' wheels against wood, blacktop, and concrete, and distinctly male laughter. Something about the laughter sounds almost familiar, and then I remember the boy from yesterday.
Could my pal Val be back again?
~*~*~*~*~*~
Twenty minutes later...
After listening to Val have his fun for another twenty minutes, I can tell four things:
1) The skater is Val.
2) He loves skating more than life itself.
3) He is very good at it.
4) His right shoulder is injured, or at least sore. It's throwing off his landings.
Don't ask how I was able to figure this out. I guess I just have "the ear" for that sort of stuff. It's a lot of fun, sometimes, being able to tell what people are doing without having to look at them. In any case, I suppose six is more than late enough for me to get up.
Lazily, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stretch my hands overhead before grabbing my sunglasses off my bedside table. Shuffling my way to the kitchen, I contemplate what to make for breakfast. After a second of consideration, I decide that whatever I make, it better be doubled. Val's probably hungry, and it would be just brilliant if I scared off my only customer.
Hmm... scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice? Why not? I open the refrigerator, and let the slight chill cool my skin. Reaching in, I grab three eggs and crack them into a small bowl... and so begins the morning ordeal of making breakfast.
In short, if you don't know where it came from, I probably own it. If you're sure you've seen it before, I probably don't.
Chapter 2
Val
I must be some sort of masochist or whatever. Honest! Either that, or I'm just a glutton for punishment. Otherwise, why would I be here, back at the skate park, at 5:30 AM on a Saturday morning?
I hope that girl doesn't come out again. Don't get me wrong, she's hot and all, but she owns the place and I really don't want to get kicked out. Which is why I'm sitting at the top of the half-pipe, legs hanging over the side, staring at the quickly lightening east. Yup, another exciting day in Pacifica on the right side of the tracks.
Massaging my right shoulder, I think back on how I got the bruise under my long-sleeved tee. I'd come home from working at the local library a little early, seeing as it was Friday and all. Yup, Val Horrigan, the fearless former leader of Team X-Bladz, working at a library. Anyways, I come home early, and for some reason or other, Dad's mad at Stacie. Again. Anyways, he's rearing up to hit her, and I dash in between the two. His fist comes down on my shoulder, and I'm sure Stace saw me wince. I turn around and glare at Dad, and he takes a step back. Eyes rimmed red, and pupils are all... whatever. It doesn't matter, because I can tell he's been smoking his shit again. Quickly, I tell Stacie to pack her overnight bag and send her next door, to old Mrs. Wilkes. She's crazy about cats, taking care of about twenty or so, and because the cats can tolerate Stacie, she can too. Anyways, I send her over to Mrs. Wilkes, and face dad, ready for another night of arguing about him going to NA and detox and everything. It never makes any difference, though. He does what he does, and doesn't give a flying fig tree what I do, so long as it doesn't involve an investment from him. That's practically how I got started on X-Bladz anyway, back when I skated for the fun of it.
Which reminds me. Why am I sitting here like a schmuk when I could be skating before mystery-girl catches me? The sun's practically up now, and Saturday's a big business day for most skate parks in this district.
Standing and stretching my arms over my head, I eye the halfpipe. Launching myself onto the curve, I laugh as the first rush of adrenaline overtakes me, erasing all thoughts of Dad and his problems, old Mrs. Wilkes's cats, and everything else that is messed up in my life from my mind.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Hallie
What the fuck? Whatever the hell time it is, someone's going to pay for waking me up. I glare in the general direction of the clock, and *thwack* it with my hand.
"Five forty ay-em."
Brilliant. Just brilliant. I close my eyes and try to get back to sleep when I hear something. The sound of skates' wheels against wood, blacktop, and concrete, and distinctly male laughter. Something about the laughter sounds almost familiar, and then I remember the boy from yesterday.
Could my pal Val be back again?
~*~*~*~*~*~
Twenty minutes later...
After listening to Val have his fun for another twenty minutes, I can tell four things:
1) The skater is Val.
2) He loves skating more than life itself.
3) He is very good at it.
4) His right shoulder is injured, or at least sore. It's throwing off his landings.
Don't ask how I was able to figure this out. I guess I just have "the ear" for that sort of stuff. It's a lot of fun, sometimes, being able to tell what people are doing without having to look at them. In any case, I suppose six is more than late enough for me to get up.
Lazily, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stretch my hands overhead before grabbing my sunglasses off my bedside table. Shuffling my way to the kitchen, I contemplate what to make for breakfast. After a second of consideration, I decide that whatever I make, it better be doubled. Val's probably hungry, and it would be just brilliant if I scared off my only customer.
Hmm... scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice? Why not? I open the refrigerator, and let the slight chill cool my skin. Reaching in, I grab three eggs and crack them into a small bowl... and so begins the morning ordeal of making breakfast.