lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Skating I still have The Block, so to appease the masses, I decided to post a story I wrote about two months ago. Let me know what you think. . . . Even though this was Tim�s idea, I�m the person everyone decides would be best at heaving the brick through the window. I think that idea started with Tim as well, and spread around the group. So I throw the brick, because, after all, we�re standing there in the dark, with our skates slung over our shoulders. We�ve all told our parents we�re camping out in Richie�s backyard, except Richie, who told his parents he was spending the night at my house. Not that it even matters anymore, in August. They won't go looking for us. It�s tradition, though, so we tell them. There is a certain amount of satisfaction at lobbing that brick. Its weight is comforting in my hand, and breaking a window with a brick is something no one ever gets to do. Having done it, I think everyone should. It flies through, piercing the thick night air with the tinkling of shattered glass. We freeze, sure someone has heard, but too afraid to move and call attention to ourselves. After Tim reaches in, removing any pieces that might give us away by scratching arms and legs, we step onto the broken glass. We�re in now, letting our eyes adjust to the blackness inside. Scotty has brought a broom, that idiot, and he�s sweeping the glass into a corner so we can have more room for skating. We�re taking our shoes off and putting the skates on. Tim gets to take the first lap around the store, because, after all, it was his idea. He barely makes it around once when the rest of us jump in, pushing each other and shit like, that, shit we know we�re getting too old to do, but I guess we�re probably too old to be breaking into abandoned grocery stores, too. We did that, though, so we push each other into walls like little kids, and we�re having a great time until the girls show up. It�s Patty Derringer, of course, and her best friend Suzie Parker. They scare the shit out of us by hollering, and we all freeze, Scotty nailing me right in the back, knocking both of us to the floor, me on my ass, Scotty on his back. We think we�re caught for a second, until Patty and Suzie pick their way through the window, holding their skates between their fingers like dead fish. "What�re you doing here?" Tim demands. I can�t see the color of his face in the dark, but I just know that it�s flaming red to match his hair, the way I've only ever seen Tim's get. Patty pops that gum of hers she�s always gnawing on, and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "We heard you guys were breaking in. They�ll probably board it up after tonight, so we wanted in on it." I roll my eyes, wondering how they found out, and who else knows, and Scotty tries to scramble to his feet like a flipped-over turtle. It�s not that we don�t like girls, and it�s not even that Patty and Suzie aren�t cute. But when you�ve got a night all planned out, with just you and some friends, and it�s going to be all cool and goofy, and two girls come along... everyone gets uptight. Half the guys are wondering how they can get the girls to notice them, like me, and they know the other half know what they�re thinking. Everyone�s secretly rolling his eyes, because neither group understands the other, and it wouldn�t be an issue if the girls weren�t there. So we tell them to leave; it�s our only chance. Suzie pinches up her face, and I want her to look at me, to stop looking disgusted when she does. "You can�t make us." "Oh yeah?" Richie rolls his feet back and forth in place, playing it cool. "Yeah," Patty says, "or we�ll just go to your parents. Or the police. We don�t care which." Richie sighs loudly, dramatically, and suddenly I realize it�s just me and Richie. We�re the ones vying for attention here. Tim just came here to skate, and Scotty came because the rest of us did. And, to sweep up the mess. Scotty lives to clean up the mess. So Richie says yeah, they can skate with us, but only if they don�t get too loud. And since he says that, the rest of us agree. What�re we going to do, go home? So, the six of us skate until the sun comes up, and when school starts two weeks later, it�s only the six of us who know who broke into Schneider�s. . . ***** . . Hey, Ian from LA. Are you gonna answer my emails, or WHAT? 'Cause I know you're reading this. 11:04 PM - 11 August 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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