A/N: No, I don't own Rocket Power and their characters, only Lee. Just thought I'd settle that... I'm too poor to get sued... ;3; Plus the lyrics are from 'Accidents' by Alexisonfire (who are touring in August! SQUEE! ...Now to get mum to let me go...), from their album 'Watch Out!' (-shameless promotion-). I do not own the song or lyrics in any way, and never said I had.

Okay. Enough political copyright bullshit... Onto the story!

"These are lyrics,"

and

These are thoughts.

A week had passed. A dull week, nevertheless, but the time had passed anyway. Otto was still stewing over the arrogant tone of the female skater, but hadn't seen her since. "Dude, maybe she was just visiting town," Twister had tried to work that possibility into Otto's head since the incident, but Otto was stubborn, convinced she had just gone into hiding - or was just avoiding him.

Twist had shaken his head, a weak, mocking smile on his freckled face. "You get so worked up sometimes, Otto-man."

Otto had turned back, his speech containing more irritibility and anger than what he had liked, "Look Twist, if you just want to give up, give the most likely situation rule, fine. Just, FINE. I bet you she's still here. I bet. No matter how farfetched that might sound, I swear she'll pop back up. If not," he flexed his fingers, giving his helmet strap a good snap against the side of his jaw, "I'll hunt her down."

"You're crazy, Otto. You really are."

"If only we could... heal ourselves... We wouldn't... need to be hooked up to these machines... Woah-oah-woah. Woah-oah-oah-a-woah-oah..." Asking me for autographs? I wasn't expecting that much of a welcome here, eyes half closed, gently watching the path in front of her, the scenery smoothly moving along, the skateboarder hurriedly tried to calm her thoughts - and sense of direction. 'Just follow the boardwalk' she said, 'You'll find your way around eventually', she said... "Urgh."

She stopped. Meekly stepping off her skateboard, she brought it up into both palms, almost cradling it as she looked upon the underside. The ripped strands of tape, the scrapes and scratches from grinding, the fixed-up crack from when she majorly beefed during a demo and chucked a fit, flinging it away, narrowly missing one of the cameramen, and having it smack into the railing from the halfpipe... all of these hid the originally blue shades of her deck, yet small patches were still visible. Fingers brushed over one of the wheels, carelessly sending them into a slow rotation.

"Let's redefine... let's redefine... let's redefine..." A body slammed into hers, and carried on walking, not seeming to register the contact, and she looked up suddenly. It was no wonder. She was standing in the middle of the gradually increasing crowd, the mass mix of both locals and sight-gazing shoobies hurrying down the path. People were winding around her, as she was just like another bench or bin along the way.

"Do they even cure you... (Cut me open. Drug me.) Or is it just to humour us before we die...?" Dropping her eyes to her deck, just in enough time to register the black scroll of writing over and across everything else - 'Wishing you luck, Lee. Succeed. Dominate. I'll be there for you.' Lee. Lee Wickliffe. One of the younger skating prodigies of the East Coast. That's what and who she was. The writing was from her brother, who, sadly, didn't make the move with her and her mother to the West. Aha. Journey to the West. Dropping her skateboard, letting it swing downwards, one hand still grasping it, she slipped into an aware state of mind just to feel another body smack against her. "Watch where you stand, skate rat!" came the shout, but like the previous person, the body was gone before she could find the owner of the voice.

"Woah-oah-oah... woah-oah-oah-a-woah-oah..." "Oh, go fuck yourself," she growled under her breath, huffing, looking around. She had no idea where she was, really. Beach off to one side, and a take away joint off to the other. The faint scent of greasy yet delicious foodstuffs came wafting faintly from... what was it called? Lee brought her line of sight up further... 'The Shore Shack'. Well, not as known as a corporate chain, but by the business it looks to not be all that dangerous... she thought to herself, before stepping towards it, opposite hand quickly unbuckling and pulling off her helmet, a couple of spare fingers loosening the flattened hair from her scalp. Snapping the headphones out from her ears, the sharp static fading as the song ended, she felt the sudden ambience of public dining hit her in the face. Hand shuffled in her pocket to quickly turn her mp3 player off, just as another riff started slamming against the small speakers.

There were a few tables around the joint, all occupied. A range of faces, although most were below their mid-twenties, and most with some degree of sporting wear on. Two men seemed to be manning the counter - a jolly-looking Hawaiian man seeming to make several meals at one, flipping patties and tipping baskets of deep-fried chips with ease, completing around four orders as she watched, and a taller man, ratty bucket cap pulled over what one could only guess to be a balding blond head, who was talking to a pair of kids her own age, who were sitting at the counter - a blond boy, and a purple-haired girl. The man in the bucket hat ducked into the back a few times, bringing out a few more boxes of patties and buns, and, wiping the back of his hand across his forehed, disappeared through the swinging door. The Hawaiian man's joyful, hearty laugh was loud as Lee approached the counter herself, unsure, as this was the first time she'd eaten out since moving here (her mother was quite fond of hearty, homecooked meals), but hungry nevertheless.

"Oh, hurry up Tito!" the purple-haired girl - obviously Reggie - called, her order seemning bratty if it wasn't for the joking smile on her face, "Sammy and I are starrrving..."

The man - Tito - laughed again. "I'm going as fast as I can, little cuzzes. There is only so much a man can do!" Effortlessly, he flung their meals onto the counter, along with tossing another meal onto the table nearest.

Lee nearly had a heart attack. Gaping, wide-eyed, she clutched the counter, she bit her tongue as to not explode into a long string of obscenties. "You nearly swiped my head off!"

Tito turned to look her way. "I'm sorry, little cuz. It wasn't intended, trust me on that."

Reggie and Sam both turned to look at her curuiously, not recognising her face straightoff, as she pulled up a stool, elbows leant on the counter. She looked across the menu board, waving her hand dismissively. "Nah, it's... it's okay. I guess. You just scared the absolute Hell out of me."

Tito wiped his hands off on a teatowel, hanging it back up. He smiled and laughed, tone light. "Now, little cuz, are you just going to watch me all day, making sure I don't try anything else, or are you going to order?"

"I could eat a boot right about now, as long as it's deep fried... I'm starved. But... Uh... what do you... recommend?"

"Ah, a tourist, hey? I see you haven't yet witnessed Tito's almighty Hawaiian cooking yet."

She brought her nails along her palm, chin resting on her hand. Eyebrows furrowed slightly. "There is no way I'm a shoobie."

Sam clicked his fingers in sudden realization, recognising her face. He tilted his head. "I agree, Tito. I don't think she's a shoobie."

Lee whirled to stare at Sam accusingly. "I really do appreciate you backing me up, as it's the damn truth, but... I don't know you... do I?"

Sam stared back, smile friendly. "No, you don't. I saw a bit of your run at MadTown, what, a week ago?" He nodded to himself. "Yeah, it was a week ago. Just before I left. There is no way a shoobie could rip it up like that."

Reggie nodded, next to Sam, nibbling on a french fry. "I think you gave my brother a scare with that routine. He's been ranting and raving about you almost all week..."

Sam laughed, agreeing. "Oh, yeah. We're all going insane. Otto doesn't take well to other skilled skaters."

Lee straightened in her seat, her stomach growling. "Well... Uh. Enough of that for... just... this second. Just until after my stomach stops eating itself. Again, what do you recommend?"

"Well, I'd say you should order the chilli cheese fries, for one." Sammy patted his stomach, mentioning to his almost-empty basket. "Delicious."

Leaning forward, Lee fingered the loophole on her wallet. "Fine. Chilli cheese fries and... uh... a blue Gatorade, thanks."

"I must say that is a good choice. It'll be ready in just a few."

Pulling out a couple of notes, she stuck them under her helmet, placing it on the surfboard-shaped counter. "M'kay. There's my money. Now, I'm just going to freshen up." She raised her eyebrows at Sam. "I still don't really know you, but you seem trustworthy enough. Make sure no one makes off with my food, 'kay? I need to duck out for a few."

Reggie laughed. "All you should be afraid of is Sammy eating them!" She punched Sam - who had a mock-hurt look on his face - in the arm softly, joking.

Smiling briefly, Lee hopped off her stool, headphones dangling around her collar, and dashed around to the bathroom, built on the side of the shop. Making her way through the swing door, she heard it click shut quietly, and she paused. It didn't seem like any of the stalls were occupied, so she stalked up to the mirror, scrutinizing her own reflection. Fingertips tried to smudge her makeup into place, but with no avail, so she just neatened her hair. Faint paste of sweat made her features glisten. "I guess it shows my lack of action recently," she whispered to herself, hoping no one intruded, thinking she was some crazy teenager out to kill, "Man, I haven't even been pushing myself that hard... It must be the heat..." A few moments passed, and her palms grasped the sides of the small washbasin, staring herself down. "Fuck, Lee, pick up your game. As soon as you settle into this Goddamn place, fucking PUSH YOURSELF. Keep striving. Keep fucking going along. Keep bloody-"

The door clicked open again, and a customer rushed in, hitting the hand drier before dashing into a stall. Lee growled, dropping her eyes to the drain, going silent. Thoughts were brewing in her head, but that wasn't that unusual. She was a generally tempremental person.

Running the tap, flicking a handful of water onto her face, she sighed heavily, taking a last, wistful glance at herself, remembering what had been said to her no less than a month ago. Stop fucking around, Wickliffe. You can do better than this. I know you're moving, but keep your mind on the game, girl. Remember - make some contacts. Pull off some moves. Push yourself to the point of collapse, then get back up and outdo yourself again. You've been doing that for years - don't stop now. She nodded to herself, making sure not to slam the door behind her as she exited, trotting back to the Shack. I think I've met my first contacts. And if they're talking about the same Otto I'm thinking of... This should be rather interesting.

Sure enough, there was her fries, thankfully covered to keep most of the warmth in. She grinned as she took the lid off, watching the heat billow off them, snapping up a fry and chomping down. "Awh man," she said, not to anyone in particular, but best guess was that it was directed at Tito, voice becomng muffled as more were stuffed into her mouth, "Deeshe are some hardcaw friesh yuv gawt here." Hurriedly swallowing, she chugged down a fair amount of Gatorade. "Ahhh..." Only then did she control her eating to a unshameful, public-friendly manner. She grimaced. "What? I was bloody starving... Thanks for holding my meal... uh... who are you again? Uh... I know it starts with an s... I think..."

"Sam, or Sammy, if you prefer."

"Ah. Well, thanks, Sammy, man."

Leaning back a little bit, slowly slurping the whipped cream that whirled in his thickshake, he smiled. "And who would you be? ...It's only common courtesy to ask."

Handful of chips were snagged and wolfed down before she answered. "Last time I checked my name was Lee... Lee Wickliffe."

Reggie choked on the dregs of her drink, she coughed a few times before pressing her arms against the counter, tears in her eyes from the fit. "Lee Wickliffe?" She looked over to her, clutching her glass. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"Well, there was that name change incident last year... but, yeah, I do happen to have that name."

"You're were in Skate'N'Shred last year!"

Lee bit her tongue, looking downwards, nibbling a few chips. So people still do remember. ...Of course they stillremember, you idiot."Yeah, guess I was, 'ey..."

Reggie beamed, excited. "Oh man, this is awesome. Another female skater in the reigon!"

Sam swung his head back and forth between the two. "What, was there an article or something...?"

Reggie shrugged. "Well, there was an article with it... But you remember the DVD that Otto was on, don't you, Sammy?"

"Yeah... 'Skaters Most Likely to Dominate in Five Years'... it had Otto's demo on it... Wait. You were on it?" He paused, looking her up and down, taking in her features. Sure enough, he was surprised he hadn't placed her identity earlier. "Ha. Now I recognise you... You were featured in Reggie's Girls Vs. Boys story too..."

"Dude, I was?" Lee was genuinely puzzled, and - although this had been happening more and more frequently since her fifteen minutes of fame - a tad bit embarrassed, not really wanting to be treated this important.Indeed, her personality was confusing -full of poride one minute, meek and shy the next. Purely unpredictable.Her eyebrows furrowed. "...Wait, who the Hell's Reggie?"

"That would be me. I'm Reggie. Reggie Rocket. I run a magazine around here." She mentioned behind her to the small newspaper shelf, which had a few remaining copies of that month's issue on display. Now that the magazine was so popular throughout Ocean Shores, there was a pricetag on it, but not many seemed to mind. It came out for the best, with Reggie winning the California Youth Journalism Award just a few months earlier, and a guaranteed place in the nearby University. "In that article, I placed you against my brother in skateboarding..." She winced. "Oh man... Otto's gonna freak... and not in that good way..."

A/N: Well, well. I always want to write at the worst times. I was freezing my butt off typing this up. And with this result, I should've probably kept sleeping... the story didn't go that far in this chapter... So I re-wrote this, after stewing over it whilst watching television (I'm such a whiny perfectionist).

Please excuse any of my grammatical and typing errors. (;

Now. Go REVIEW. Nownownownow.

Reviewers:

ottomatic21: Yeah, and there's plenty more derogatory nicknames he gets called, too. Poor short Otto. And yeah, this rivalry will probably get worse and worse... Hehe... Glad you like it!

WhATs hER NaME 9613: We could just admire each other's works, then! (; And you're right, Element is an awesome company. ...Oh man, Bam margera is a LEGEND! I love him too! Aww, I feel honored to have inspired you... keep up with the awesome writing! And thanks for adding this to your favourite stories list! -feels special-