A/N: Yep, another chapter. Inspired by a fellow Rocket Power fanfiction writer - Makk (WhATs hER NaME 9613)! Hehe, this is turning into a tennis game of inspiration... Anyway, I don't own Rocket Power or it's characters, but I do have rights on Lee, who is a character of my creation. So no getting sued for me today:D Now... to the story!
These are thoughts,
"and this is just normal speech with an excentuation on a certain word."
Another half-week had passed without much to celebrate or cry over, as the days had been strung out and basicaly just run-of-the-mill in ways of excitement. No competitions had gone on for a while, and Otto was going out of his mind - he didn't have an extra hobby past all the sports he did, unlike Reggie (with the 'Zine, and the several 'girly' sessions that she had with Trish and Sherry each week), Sam (the 'Zine, plus writing computer programs and helping out at the local computer store), and Twister (with his steadily improving camera work and movie making, he was showing a lot of promise, plus those bloody dance lessons his mother had forced him into taking every Friday afternoon...).
The sun was quickly bringing itself higher and higher into the blindingly bright clear sky, casting reflections onto the ocean, sending sparkles through the foam that pulled itself back and forth across the shore. A gorgeous swell was sending perfect waves across what had been a flat surface the week beforehand, and the gang were itching to get out there... They would've marched out to the beach there and then, but there was one small problem holding them back - school was still in session.
Bag slung lazily off one shoulder, creasing the already crumpled green Blink 182 shirt (freshly picked up off his floor, shaken and sprayed with deodorant), Otto swung his head back to Twister, who was only a couple of feet behind. After a brief silence, their eyes met, and Twister grinned. "Ready to admit defeat, Otto-man?"
Pushing a few stray dreadlocks away from his eyes, again hidden behind a pair of shades, Otto quirked one eyebrow. Faded jeans, the back pockets covered with checker-print material (this item of clothing had just met with a fresh machine wash, so these were actually clean), crumpled around his high tops as he shifted his weight on his skateboard. He turned his head to face the pavement before him, to make sure he wasn't going to crash into anyone - well, anyone he liked, anyway. "What are you talking about?"
"That skater girl. You know, the one you've been basically vowing to kill over the last week and whatever?" Twister pushed his hands into the higher front pockets of his off-grey cargo pants, a camouflage t-shirt - reading 'You can't see me!' across the chest - clinging to his torso, no matter how many times he had pulled and stretched the material while wearing it. Insanely flat bag ("Why have a big bag when you're not gonna put anything in it?") pressed against the small of his back, straps draped along his shoulders.
Forehead creased. "I never said I'd kill her."
"Yeah, bro, you did."
"Ugh." He stopped, pulling up his skateboard, and Twister followed suit. The school loomed in front of them, students littered on and around the front steps. Sunshine glared down strongly, giving everything a lively glow, but it didn't help the fact it was school, and that meant shutting up and keeping still - something both Twister and Otto did not do well.
Looking around, hoping for any distraction to take them away, anything to stop them going into the hallways as of yet, Twister smiled. "Sammy just pulled up, Otto." Sure enough, off by the bicycle rack was Sam, chaining up his mountain bike, crouched down by one side of it. His hands obviously had not had enough time to lift themselves and neaten his helmet-matted hair, which was plastered down, save for a few straggly clumps. Struggling to his feet, palm rubbing his right knee tenderly, he brushed off his pants - a stylishly ripped dark denim pair of jeans - and had a quick fiddle with the collar of his shirt - a black cotton polo with three guns (two pink, one silver) down the left side. Hefty backpack sat at his feet, which he picked up gingerly, dragging it out of the cage that surrounded the bikes as a means of protection, closing the gate midway. Frowning to himself, muttering, his expression cleared as the two teens scuttled over, fingering one of the loose strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead. "You've beaten us again, Sammy!" Twister's grin was wide, as he clearly knew this was not really something hard to achieve.
Sam answered with a lopsided smile and a laugh. "I know, Twister. I know. I've beaten you, like every other trip to school." His palms finally massaged against his scalp, ruffling his hair into a series of skyward spikes. "Unlike you, I try to get to school at a decent time, and don't act like I'm marching to my own grave while doing so."
"A decent time? What, like before lunch?"
Stifling a laugh, Sam knelt back down, unzipping his backpack and flicking through the several writing pads and textbooks that were crammed inside. Pulling out a lined exercise book, he began flipping pages, making sure the right work was in there. "I mean before first bell, Twist." He shook his head. "But then again, I do take pride when it comes to my grades, and don't just see school as another place to wreak havoc."
Twister pouted. "Hey, I'm no genius-"
"You can say that again, Twist'," Otto interuptted quickly, who had circled Sammy and was leaning against the fence wire that was one of the outer walls of the bike cage, skateboard propped up beside him, bag dumped at his feet. Only really throwing a comment in, rather than participating in the 'every other day' conversation that was the friendly banter between Twister and Sam, his eyelids dropped and he slouched, his appearance taking on somewhat of a 'cool' disposition - which would be close to the truth, as he was one of the more well-known (therefore 'popular') students. The whole group was, really. Even Sam, who used to have the 'dork' label, back when it was impossible to think that you could have a brain and still be liked by many.
"-But I'm an average student!"
"Yeah, a C-average student."
"At least it's still a pass!"
A trio of laughs interuptted them. "Hey, settle you two, or I'll get the hose out!" The voice belonged to Reggie, who was flanked by Sherry and Trish, who were, half of the time, her 'group'. For when, well, she felt like being a girl. The guys were, logically, for when she felt like being a bit more boyish; back in the day Reggie would've rather done anything other than actually act like a girl, but now that she had matured, she had both 'girl time' and 'guy time'. No favouritism was taken, of course - she was still level-headed Reggie, who knew what everyone else wanted, and tried to provide as much of it as she could.
Trish grinned slyly, rubbing her palms together. "I dunno, Reggie, I want to see if a fight breaks out this time." The asian surfer's soft brown-black hair fell straight to her shoulders in a silky mass, her fringe layered across her forehead and down her cheekbones. Her skin was still naturally pale, despite how much time she spent in the sun, and this made her full, rounded lips stand out even more.. Pale spring-green cap-sleeved polo showed her curves whilst still being conservative, a pair of three-quarter jeans stopping a few inches above her woven sandals. Deep brown eyes twinkled micheviously. "What about you, Sher'?"
Sherry's eyebrows furrowed, and she rested one hand on her hip, tilting it as she shook her head, making a small 'tsk, tsk, tsk!' sound. "I thought you were over seeing a primitive fist fight." She smiled, after a pause, "Of course, this is taking the fights for your affection out as an exemption..." Golden ringlets spun around and down past her features, stopping at just above her shoulders, groomed to perfection (this is Sherry we're talking about, after all). And, as usual, not one hair, thread or step was out of place. Gold hoops swung from her earlobes, gently grazing her powdered cheeks. Four strapped (two placed normally, the other two criss-crossed to wind around her neck), soft pink top had that extremely 'soft and fluffy' look to it, although it was a thin material, and had no heavy creases, looking especially well-ironed next to Otto's floorpile pickup that was his tee. White bell skirt ruffled a little in the slow, salty Ocean Shores breeze. Pink and white 'Mary Jane' wingtips took care as to not scuff their toes on the school ground pavement.
"Naw, we're over it now," Twister pointed out quickly, before the girls had any ideas of taking cash-in-hand wagers for who was most likely to come out on top - and, mind you, it would've been a fair fight... if there ever was one.
"Good," Reggie sighed, stepping forward and snaking her arm around Twister's, his fingers reaching to entwine with hers, "Because if you hit Twist', Sammy, I'd have to sock you one myself." Her eyes were kind though, and Sam knew she wouldn't do such a thing - even though she was currently dating Twister, Sam was no doubt her best friend, and was there to help her with her problems in a heartbeat, dare I say, even before Maurice. Reggie and Sam shared a bond that they didn't even have to exchange words to know what the other was thinking - and this closeness was often mistaken as a relationship, which was often an exaggerated rumour around the school, although anyone who knew the two well enough would agree that they were just not the people who would have a behind-his-back relationship, as they both had too much common sense to do so.
Regina was dressed simply but stylishly in a pink sleeveless tee, a sheer black overlay held on with hot pink stitching, a small skull printed on the upper right. Well-worn flares covered most of her black and white skate shoes. Her purple waves were pulled loosely into a bun, a few strands settled either side of her face. "Have you finished that chemistry practical review, Sammy?"
"Is the sky blue?" He had just placed the book holding the homework in his bag, and he didn't really want to pull it back out, so he hoisted his bag up and swung it around to hang off one shoulder, as to make a point.
"Well, it really depends on whether you're colourblind or not," Trish countered quickly, laughing.
"Hey, hold up!" He muttered lowly to himself. Eyebrows quirking upwards, Otto suddenly stood straight, grabbing his skateboard, quickly tossing his backpack on. His speech was directed at the group, but his eyes were locked on the open doors that lead to the hallway. "I'll catch you guys - and girls - later on. See you in Biology, Twist'." With that he dashed away, disappearing into the gradually increasing crowd of students.
"What was that about?" Sherry inquired lowly to Reggie, who shrugged limply.
"Don't ask me. Just because he's my brother doesn't necessarily mean I understand him... at all."
"Anywho... yes, Reggie, I /did," he shot a sharp look at Trish, who grinned back kiddingly, "Finish that report."
"I never doubted you," She winked, "Just making sure."
Heavily tanned hand shot forward, grabbing someone by the shoulder, whirling them roughly around. "I've been looking for you," he growled lowly, hard caramel-coloured eyes glowering icily into what were at the time just a pair of pupils, the eye colour hidden by a mask of white. "Searching for a while, in fact."
Eyebrows lowered, and she pulled herself roughly out of his hard grasp. "I don't know what the fuck you're going on about," she hissed, stepping backwards hastily, "This is my first day here."
"You know very well what I'm fucking talking about," Otto muttered angrily, his hands subconsciously balling into fists, the all too familiar burst of adrenalin starting to course through his body. I don't care if I'm not meant to pick on girls, if they push the wrong fucking buttons, they must serve the consequence.
Her heart was in her throat, Hell, she didn't even know if she could pull out a sentence without her throat reducing it into a squeak, but Lee knew she had to think fast. "I'm sorry, I have a horrible memory," she batted her eyelashes, tone falsely sickly-sweet, "Can you please refesh it for me?"
All this time students were hurrying past, weaving around them, just like the shoppers on the boardwalk - not really paying attention to them, except for a couple of girls who eyed off Otto hungrily before being ushered away by another pair of girls, turning their heads back to the dreadlocked heartbreaker, before disappearing around a corner.
Otto tried to breathe steady, exhaling deeply, balled-up fist quivering ever so slightly. He ground his teeth together and straightened before responding. "Of course," he replied, in mock-kindness, before his tone darkened, "Mad Town-"
"Where the fuck?"
"The fucking skate park, you dumb piece of shit, the fucking SKATE PARK. You and your fucking display of 'talent', hogging the half pipe while others obviously wanted to board there-"
She sniffed haughtily, "I saw you hogging it a couple of days after."
Otto felt his jaw tighten in frustration. God, she is just fucking asking for it. He wiped one palm down his face. "That is not the point!"
A few guys and girls stopped, as Otto's voice had risen above that of a private conversation. "Dude, lover's quarrel?"
"No way man, last time I heard Otto had no one on his arm."
"Yeah, she must be new here or something... never seen her before."
"And you gotta admit, she's hard to miss." Chorus of agreements answered.
"I doubt Otto goes for girls like her anyway," one girl sneered.
Another clung her shoulder bag to her side, looking Lee up and down, "She looks pretty butch if you ask me."
One of the boys frowned, glancing to the girls, "You two are so judgemental."
"Yeah, she's kind of hot."
"If you go for girls like that, man..."
"And what the fucking Hell did I- Oh, wait! I remember you-ou... Sadly you haven't grown either, munchkin." Lee stepped backwards, hoping to make a quick getaway when she had the chance. Judging by his body language, she had clearly crossed the line.
"You know," Otto fought to keep his voice steady, "I really do despise being reminded of my height."
"Man, Otto looks really tweaked."
"Yeah, he looks like he's gonna go off at the mouth any second now."
More people stopped, whispered enquiries as to what was going on a low hum. Both bickering skateboarders failed to notice the increasing crowd around them.
"So," Lee brought one hand to her temple, "You've been 'looking for me' because I bagged you out? Dude, that's really not cool. That's just downright pathetic. But then again, you do look to me like a pretty pathetic example of a human being." ...Oh shit...
"AGHHH!" With a yell, Otto launched himself at her, wresting her to the floor. They hit the linoleum heavily, and Otto felt the hard smack of his bag against his spine, but he didn't care. Lee's arms flung out at him in defense, and his fist rose, the other hand grasping the collar of her shirt tightly.
Someone's hands quickly brought themselves to cup at their mouth, and the yell rung down the hall. "FIGHT!"
A/N: ...Well, wasn't that a happy end to the chapter? Yes, Otto obviously is a Blink 182 fan in this fic'. Could you tell? (; And as another note, I'm not really sure if Trish is Asian, but she just looks it to me. So don't bite my head off or anything if she isn't. -sweatdrops-
Please excuse any of my typing and grammatical errors. (:
Please REVIEW! I'd appreciate it. :D