Summary: The new kid in town is regarded as a rival by the one and only Otto Rocket - and it's a bitter rivalry. As she moves in on their group, having made friends with the others, Otto is no less than peeved, especially when Lars decides to move in on her.
Otto Rocket - 16 years old - Sophomore
Twister Rodriguez - 16 years old - Sophomore
Reggie Rocket - 17 years old - Junior
Sam Dullard - 16 years old - Junior
Lars Rodriguez - 18 years old - Senior
Lee Wickliffe - 17 years old - Junior
"Twist! Man, look at her!" Otto leant forward, arms crossed over his deck, which was spread across his lap. His gaze, which was only partially hidden behind a pair of blue-lensed sunglasses, was fixed on a girl who was obviously just there for the 'boy factor'. As to not spend time describing her appearance in full, she looked like girl magazines were her main influence, and fads steered her life.
Hand rose to shade his eyes, knocking his slightly askew cap - a black, grey and red Volcom flexfit. Turning his head, Twister glanced over, and paused. He then flushed, and tore his eyes away, instinctively drawing closer to Reggie. "Dude, I'm taken."
"Oh, there's nothing wrong with a little gander! Reg' doesn't mind!"
"Excuse me?" Reggie glared at her brother, her too, leaning towards her partner. "As a matter of fact, I do mind. You do not - I repeat, do not - say stuff like that when the girlfriend is present, Otto."
Huffing, Otto folded his arms. "Fine then. Squi-I mean, Sammy. You're single. Look. Isn't she a piece of work?"
Sam wrinkled his nose. "Oh, a piece of work indeed. Doesn't she look a little, uh, well..."
"Skanky?" Piped up Twister, and Reggie stifled a laugh.
Sam grinned sheepishly. "I was trying to avoid such terms."
"Skanky? No!" Otto frowned.
"Well, you've got to admit our image of skanky is a lot different to yours."
"Yeah, Otto-man, you crack onto anything that moves."
"I do not!" Otto's expression changed to a 'torn my ego down' sulk, which was pretty much typical of the sixteen-year-old, "Some best bro' you are..."
"Oh get off it, Otto," Reggie placed her hand on one slender hip, cocking an eyebrow in amusement, "You're a man-whore."
He bristled, standing up. Sure, he flirted on a regular basis with his entourage of female fans, but a... a whore? In his opinion, out of the question. In others, it was very much true. But, Otto being Otto, his opinion was the only one that mattered. "Whatever you guys. Just... whatever." He dropped his skateboard, one foot lifting it up on an angle. "I'm off to the half pipe. Later. Much." And with that he pushed off, gliding effortlessly, his easiness excentuated even more so by the obvious beginners that littered the park, barely able to even pull off an ollie.
Sam brought his hand up to adjust his glasses, which were still fashioned in the rectangular, 'emo-style' that he had worn when he was younger, only a bit smaller. Blond hair had grown out, pointing out towards the sky in slanted clumps. He was no longer the chubby shortass that he once was - indeed, he had grown rather attractive, his body lean from all the sports he had participated in over the years, although his shoulders were a lot broader than the other two boys'. He was the second tallest, behind Twister. He wasn't dressed in skating gear today, though. Rather, he was dressed in his 'generally casual' getup - a black and white pinstripe shirt, a revolver emblazoned across the chest, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, baggy, washed-out jeans, a pair of grey and black 'chunky-style' sneakers and a studded black band on both wrists - he was only here for the conversation, as he was going to head home rather soon. Laptop was in a black shoulder-bag (a tiny squid logo stitched on in one corner), strap slashed diagonally across his torso. "Reggie, no offense, but your brother is seeming to be becoming more blind to his actions and his arrogance the older he gets."
Reggie sighed loudly and groaned, slouching, eyes rolling upwards. "Oh, tell me about it. He's my little bro' and all, but he's getting to be a real pain in the butt." Reggie, at seventeen, had already done most of her growing, while the boys were still having growth spurts like they were going out of fashion. Her purple hair had grown to her shoulderblades, and she usually let it loose, acheiving that 'tastefully touselled' look a lot of girls spend ages trying to mimic, although sometimes she let Trish and Sherry talk her into straigtening it, which looked just as good. She was only taller than Otto, and reached around Twister's shoulder. Light pink hoodie was left partially unzipped, exposing a simple white Roxy-brand t-shirt. The hoodie had a small skull and crossbones printed twice across the bust. Three-quarter cargo pants were camouflage-print, and a pair of simple thick-tongued skate shoes adorned her feet. But she wasn't planning on skating today, like Sam. They needed to leave soon, to finish the 'Zine, which had become increasingly popular as time passed.
Twister pouted. "Hey, don't bag my best bro' like that..." Twister hadn't really changed much physically, other than shoot upwards. His face was still fresh and youthful, and even maybe a bit vague - like a little boy. But that was one of the reasons he was so appealing - he was like a little boy trapped in a man's body. He held his helmet tucked under one arm, pads covering his elbows and knees. Loose-fit shorts were held up by a black belt, a Green Day 'American Idiot' patch ironed on one leg. Shark-tooth still dangled around his neck, tucked underneath his light brown shirt, a skull surrounded by black patterns weaving itself up from the lower right hand corner. Brown Chuck Taylor All Stars were his footwear of choice.
Lifting his helmet, placing it on his head, fixing and connecting the straps so it fit snugly over his cap, Twister placed one foot on his deck. He grinned. "I'm gonna go settle Otto-man down - and have a little shred while I'm at it. Later, guys." Quickly leaning over to give Reggie a peck on the cheek, he, too, skated off, as Reggie and Sam gave him a fond goodbye, hesitating before leaving to go finish other things - like the 'Zine, for example.
"Man whore my fucking ass..." Otto muttered to himself, obviously peeved. He wasn't even bothering to bust a few moves on the way to the halfpipe, but instead just kept a smooth, steady pace, only moving to drop a foot to push off again. A small crowd was gathered around the half-pipe, and the grinding sounds from the pipe indicating only one person was boarding - and hogging the limelight, Otto thought bitterly. That was his job, and he hated anyone else moving in on his scene. Jumping off his board, flipping it underneath his arm, he shoved his way through the mess of skaters, shoobies and just plain onlookers.
Free hand pushed a few dreadlocks out of his eyes. He had grown during the years, but he was still the shortest in the group - falling behind a couple of inches behind Reggie. Indeed, he did cop a lot of flack for his lack of height, especially from Lars. His skin was deeply tanned, standing out even more against the white Blink 182 shirt that he was currently wearing. Front of his shirt was tucked into his loose denim shorts, exposing a blue double-row pyriamid belt. Famous Stars and Straps sweatbands were on both wrists. Black-and-white checkered hightops scuffed along the concrete as he tried desperately to see what was going on - and who was pulling off the moves, as by the glimpses he saw and the crowd, they were undeniably good.
He fought his way to the bottom of the staircase that lead up the side of the ramp, and absorbed the boarder in full view - once people had recognised him, they'd steered clear, as they knew Otto was clearly the best boarder in Ocean Shores, and obviously wanted to suss out the competition in person. The face was doubtlessly new, unless they were from the 'rich' district, and Otto dismissed that thought as soon as it came - they were too rough-looking to have heaps of money. The person had a pale complexion, scrambled by a mixture of light and dark clothes: black Element top with 'BAM' scrolled along the bust, white long-sleeved top underneath, and black cuffs over the shirt, around the wrists, particularly. The stranger pulled a few moves, on the opposite end, and Otto decided for a closer look, making his way up the steps in record time, just to see the figure soar upwards, making a 720 look completely simple.
Otto cocked an eyebrow. "Not bad," he admitted, leaning against the handrail, fingers tapping on the tail of his board anxiously. He, being his restless self, wanted to get in there himself. And show this newcomer how it was done.
"Not bad is right," commented Sherry, who was another skater waiting for the half-pipe, and was the closest standing to Otto. She tossed her shoulder-length blond hair carelessly, watching as the skater took another arc into the air, "Especially for a girl. She rips it up just like the boys! Talk about girl power at it's strongest!"
Otto blinked. "A girl?" Surely not. Sure, Reggie, Trist and Sherry were awesome skaters, but they weren't able to pull off what he could. And this girl... dare he say it... he was quickly considering as an adversary. It both wounded his pride and made him glad there was a girl with some serious skills here now... well, he was only guessing she was here now. For all he knew she could just be here for the weekend.
A thud tore intrudingly into his train of thought, and a quirked, pierced eyebrow questioned him silently. It was the skater, who had apparently decided to end her run - and small show, by the crowd - for now. He now was close enough to take her in more clearly. Oh God, was he ever wrong to think she had even ever set foot in a rich suburb, other than to wreck it. Along with the upper-body combo, she had a pair of washed-out, ripped three quarter jeans, countless band names and skate logos scribbled across them, and a pair of high-tops customised to look like a pair of knee-high boots. Her hair was chin-length up the front, and clipped to about two inches long up the back, all of it black. White contacts were half hidden by her penetrating glare. Two bars were through her right eyebrow, and one ring hudded the centre of her lip. 8mm plugs were in both of her ears. One black-nailed (besides the pinkie nail, which was red) hand pushed her hair away from her eyes for a short second, and she brought her skateboard up to under her arm.
She regarded Otto with a blank expression. "I can see you're dying to skate. 'Tis all yours, pipsqueak."
Otto felt his insides burn in aggrivation, and took a step forward forward, about to mouth off, but before he could, she had already pushed past him, and was already starting down the staircase. Gritting his teeth, he checked to see if his straps were firmly secured. He dropped into the half-pipe, catching a climpse of the girl, surrounded. "Bitch isn't worth my time." He growled to himself, starting to pull a few moves of his own, secretly enjoying the rush of wind against his face.
Still, he couldn't wait to see her again.
A/N: Sorry for those who hate the Reggie/Twister pairing. o.o; And I also apologise for my most-likely poor interpretation of the characters. As I said, I haven't written fanfiction in a long, long while. Plus my English teacher is BEYOND crap, so I have had NO creative writing this semester whatsoever. But I'm quickly working on another chapter.
And, no, the last sentence in the story did not mean Otto's infatuated. It's more like you'll have a fight with your enemy, but you wonder when you'll see them again, because of the conflict.
Please excuse any of my grammatical and typing errors.
Now. Go REVIEW. Nownownow.
THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING. -lovelove-