My Life As A Teenage Robot Porn Story: Confessions – Chapter 1

Everything in my life has been a joke since I’ve moved here- Ocean Shores, California. Surf, sun, sand, skaters. I remember my first day here like it was yesterday. I was eleven years old, short, chubby, and lonely- but not desperate. When Mrs. Stimpelton walked me over to the “Rockets” I knew there would be trouble.
Let me start out by saying, I hate skaters. I just fucking hate them. Any “extreme sport” I’m not too fond of really. To me, skaters are the most ignorant and judgemental people in the world. Don’t accuse me of being judgemental, cause I’m not. I just have this ability to see inside other people. It’s not telepathy or some shit like that, I’m just able see a person’s true character no matter how they act around other people.

Back in Kansas there was a group of skater kids who always teased me and knocked my books to the ground as they skated past me. They skipped class to grind picnic tables in the playground and didn’t give a damn about school. One day, they pissed me off so bad, I just snapped. Like something had been brewing deep down inside of me; I grabbed the nearest skater by the shirt, flung him to the ground and started beating every square inch of his body with his own skateboard. I cracked a few of his ribs, bloodied up his face real bad and left bruises all over his body. I also shattered his knee, as well as his hopes of becoming a professional skater.

Of course, my little outburst didn’t go unpunished; as soon as they got over the shock of seeing their friend get the shit kicked out of him by a computer nerd (which took a while becasue of their slow-funtioning minds), they jumped me. Luckily I still had that skateboard and was somewhat able to defend myself. Nevertheless, I got one hell of a beating and was expelled from my school. The skaters merely recieved a three-day suspension. I was eleven years old.

As Mrs. Stimpelton walked me over to the Rockets, I was silently cursing myself for not running into the new house and hiding the moment we arrived. I saw the looks the were given me from accross the street- like I was some kind of freak because I wore glasses and was paler than a white whale (and kind of resembled one).

Otto and Twister immediately met my standards of skaters, they started grilling as soon as Mrs. Strimpleton left. Reggie wasn’t that bad though, I could tell she was trying to be friendly, but she could’ve done without the whole pushing me into hanging-out-with-them-thing. I wanted to say “screw you” and go back home, but I promised my mother I’d try to make friends.

She was really the only person that I cared for, she had just ended a difficult time in her life- she got a divorce, stopped drinking, and was on medication for OCD. That’s pretty much part of the reason why we moved to Ocean Shores(besides my expulsion which we never talked about). When you live in a small town in Kansas, there are no secrets to be kept, everyone knows the details of your personal life, the good and the bad. My mom wanted to move as soon as she signed the divorce papers.

Not many people knew about her drinking problem (a result of marrying my father, according to her), and we were able to escape the clutches of small town life before anyone found out about the medication she was taking. We moved to a town wher nobody knew us, which was a good thing and a bad thing.

Alright, now I’m getting off topic.

Anyway, I hung out with the “Rockets”, they teased me, they humiliated me, they discovered that I was an excellent goalie, and they accepted me, sort of. I knew from the begining that Otto and Twister would never fully accept into their clique, they made it seem so, but they are both so full of shit. To them I was an outsider, a “shoobie”, the squid.

Reggie was a different story though. She was a bit more mature than the “bonehead brothers”, after all she was older, and a female (which has a lot to do with maturity). She liked that I was good with computers and I think she might’ve known that I didn’t like Otto and would always side with her against him. She didn’t have many male friends beside Otto and Twist, and even they excluded her from time to time. We were outcasts together.

Now don’t go thinking that I was all accepting of Reggie. Because she did piss me off from time to time. She could be just as arrogant as Otto and twice as bitchy. Sometimes, she was even dumber than Twister.

As time went by, I sunk deeper into the clutches of “skaterdom” and the california lifestyle, hating every minute of it. At first I decided that I would ditch the Rocket Crew as soon as school started, claiming that I had too much homework. But alas, my plain failed. I hardly got any homework that I had to complete outside of class, and Reggie would know when I was lying since she was in my class.

So I learned how to surf, I got better on skates, I learned how to snowboard, and I was able to ride a skateboard without falling on my ass (every five minutes). I would never be as “talented” as the others, but that shit didn’t matter to me.

You might have noticed that everything has been written in past tense. That’s because it was the past. I no longer skateboard, I gave up hockey two years ago, and I sold my surf board for fifty bucks to some twelve year old kid. And I no longer hang out with the Rocket Crew because the Rocket Crew no longer exists.

Let me walk you though the fall of team Rocket.

It started sliding downhill when Reggie and I moved on to juinor high, leaving Otto and Twist with another year in grade school. I started seeing less of Otto and Twist, which was a good thing. We would walk to school with them, say goodbye and walk another block to our school. We didn’t hang out a lot after school; Reggie joined the beach volleyball team and I had volunteered to help out with the Drama Club by setting up scenery and working the lights.

We still hung out with Otto and Twist on the weekends and we still had a hockey team. During that summer, everything went back to normal- we skated, we surfed, we played hockey, and I was as usual, disgusted with myself.

Then, Otto and Twister entered Juinior High. Instead of adapting to their new environmet, they tried to avoid it as much as possible. They skipped class regularly, rarely did their homework, both of them failed the seventh grade, and both of them refused to goto summer school. Both of them wanted to become professional skaters and saw no point in going to school if they were able to land a deal with a sponsor and become famous.

However, one of them was forced into going to summer school while the other was too wild to be tamed. As much as Ray tried to enroll Otto into summer school, he always failed. His parenting skills had weakened over the years from not having a wife for back-up. So Otto spent his summer the usual way, while Twister learned all the stuff he had missed out on during the year.

When fall came again, Otto and Twister reunited and planned to spend the school year the same as before. However, their plans were foiled after the first week of skipping classes. Twister’s parents went ballistic and sent him off to military school. Otto saw no point in skipping if his “best bro” wasn’t by his side. So he went to classes more often, and managed to pass the seventh grade, barely.

Unfortunately for Otto, Twister did come back to Ocean Shores for summer vacation. Now, you might be asking-“Why is that so unfortunate, Sam? Otto should be happy that his best friend is back.” Well, Otto was happy when he heard of Twisters homecoming. He spent the last few weeks of school planning what he and Twist and would do all summer.

But then, Twister never came home, well, not in an emotional sense anyway. In Twister’s place came a disiplined, studious, young man at age 14. He wore his hair in a crew cut, having abondoned his beloved hat when he first arrived at military school. He no longer wore baggy skater clothes, but gray t-shirts with the army logo across the chest, tucked in to a pair of cargo shorts. You didn’t even have to hear him talk to know that he had changed.

Most surprisingly, he greeted me with a handshake and called me “Sam”, not “squid, not “squidster”, not “general lame-o”, just “Sam”. Otto flipped out when Twist tried to shake his hand. He asked “what the hell is wrong with you Twist?” Twister asked him to call him Maurice. It was the end of their lifelong friendship.

Twister spent the summer working for a landscaping company and Otto sulked around Ocean Shores and took his anger out on the tourists. As for Reggie and me, well, things got a little awkward.

Actually, things had already been awkward, they just got more awkward that summer. Let me expalin, while Otto was dealing with seperation anxiety, me and Reg started ninth grade, high school. We had both signed up for all of the honors courses, which ment our scheduels were the same. Our classes also had a lot of group projects, which ment we spent a lot of time together in the library, in study halls, and afterschool.

I know, I know. What could be so awkward with spending time with your best friend? Well, when your best friend has a crush on you, and it isn’t mutual, things get weird. That’s right. The talented and pretty Reggie Rocket had a crush on little old me. How did I know this? Like I mentioned before, I can read people. Simple as that.

The fact that our entire grade knew about Reggie’s crush served as good evidence as well.

Aparrently, I was the last to find out about Reggie’s little secret. It started in sixth grade if you can believe it, for some odd reason she found my personality and baby fat to be “kind of cute”. Reggie had confessed this to Trish and Sherri at a sleepover during a game of truth or dare. Needless to say, I found out from the queens of gossip themselves at the end of eigth grade.

Anyway, I enetered junior high as a short, chubby, kid and left as a gangly teenager of average height. This may seem like a radical change to some people, but my real change in image didn’t come until senior year. I’ll you about that a little later. I didn’t think my new look was that a big a deal. But Trish and Sherri did.

They tried to convince me to ask Reggie out, that we would quote- “make such a cute couple”. Unfortunately my feelings for Reggie were not romantic at all. She was my best friend and a nagging sister in one. I didn’t tell this to Trish and Sherri, but I blushed, smiled, and and shook my head. This was a bad move on my part, because they mistook it as shyness and that my feelings were mutual. It is my guess, that they told this to Reggie, because she seemed a little too friendly the next time I saw here and all throughout ninth grade.

For one thing, she smiled more than usual, which I found annoying. She also touched me a lot; not intamently or anything, but in a way that I would not expect form her. She would rub my arm if I looked sad, when we went to the movies she would lean her head aginst my shoulder when she got tired. When we watched T.V. together, she would stretch out on the couch, with her feet in my lap. Sometimes, she would gice me a hug when we said goodbye for the night. At first, I was a little weary about Reggie’s “touchiness”, but I became accustomed to it, and it was no big deal.

For the record, let me say that I do not hate Reggie. Earlier on I might have made it seem that way. Reggie is smart, funny, and caring. She is the only person in the world that I could label as a “best friend”. All others are just classmates and “regular friends”. Of course, I did notice that Reggie had “grown” a bit by the end of junior high. She was considered to be “hot” by many male students and I even thought she was rather pretty. But, I couldn’t imagine myself dating her. It’s not like “it-would-be-like-kissing-my-sister” thing, but rather a “I-don’t-want-to-destroy-a-friendship” thing. If I lost Reggie as a friend, I knew I would be miserable.

Luckly, Reggie wasn’t able to work up the nerve to make a move on me during ninth grade. She came close a couple of times though. Too close, actually. So another summer went by, we surfed, we ate, and skated a little bit. Meanwhile, Otto spent his days in summer school after failing the eigth grade. He spent his nights doing who knows what with some new friends he had made during the year (most likely while he was skipping class or in detention). Twister, I mean Maurice, was going to some summer camp sponsored by his military school.

He had actually e-mailed me a few times duirng the year, talking about what school was like and how much he liked it there. He was even planning to join the military when he graduated. As far as I knew, He never talked to Otto again after the fateful day of his return. It didn’t matter that much to any of us though, the Twister we knew had been replaced by a responsible, studious, disiplined young man. Which most thought was a change for the best, unless you asked Otto whom said he was “just a pussy”.

By the time tenth grade started, it seemed that she had grown out of her crush on me. She started dating another guy in our grade, Mitch. Mitch was a nice guy, he was smart without being snobby, funny without being obnoxious, and a skater without being arrogant. He was okay in my book and I had never felt so relieved when Reggie told me about her relationship with Mitch. Of course, I did feel the tiniest hint of rejection, but that faded after I realized that this was what I was hoping for.

We were still best friends, and Mitch never got jealous when I hung out with Reggie, and they even invited me to hang out with both of them sometimes. This was fine earlier in their relationship, but as they started to become more serious, I refused more of their offers. Nobody likes to be the third wheel. Eventually, I didn’t recieve any invites from them at all, which made it less awkward.

What made thing s more awkward though, was when Mitch and Reg would see me somewhere- the mall, the shack, at a party, wherever- and join me. We started talking for a bit until they lost interest in me and acted like they were the only people in the room and start to flirt and make-out. I would then leave in frustration, they never noticed I had left until ten minutes afterwords. They would confront me the next day and ask where I had run off to.

The straw that broke the camel’s back happened one night while I was studying in my room. Reggie and Mitch showed up unexpectedly; Reg had to borrow some notes from me because she had missed class that day for a dentist’s appointment. I handed her the notes as the phone in the kitchen rang. I excused myself to answer it, expecting them to leave while I was on the phone. However when I came back into my room, they were still there. On my bed. Kissing furiously.

Needless to say, I snapped.

I yelled at them to get out of my room. Swearing at them, my face turning red with rage, my chest felt tight and my stomach felt like it was about to empty itself. Reggie tried to explain their actions, but I didn’t here a word she said as I chucked the notes at her, and yelled at her to get the fuck out. They both looked at me with confused and embarassed faces. Mitch remained silent throughout the whole thing, looking down at his shoes and trying to tug Reggie out the door.

After they left, I went into the bathroom and puked. Was it jealousy? Of course not. Was it a childish reaction to finding two people on my bed kissing? No. Was it anger? Bingo. Like I said, this was my breaking point in my tolerance of Reggie’s relationship. It was their own selfish fault to drive me to that stage.

The next day, I avoided Reg and Mitch like the plague. I continued to do this for the next month. However, this was not end of our friendship, nor was it the ultimate abandonment of team Rocket. But don’t worry, that part will come soon enough.

While I was having a fall-out with Reggie, Otto was busy ruining his life. He had finally entered high school and barely talked to me or Reggie anymore. Well, he fell in with “the wrong crowd”. He continued his tradition of regularly ditching school, only this time instead of going skating, he got smashed with his new friends.

Otto’s life pretty much ended on a cool December day. He and his friends were celebrating christmas early with a couple bottles of liqour, some pot, and a beat-up old station wagon that was “borrowed” from someone’s parents. Well… you figure it out. You know what they tell you in school- “You drink. You drive. You lose.”

Otto drunk.

Otto drove in a car with other drunk people.

Otto lost his ability to walk and think.

He was sent to the hospital, where the doctors had discovered the left side of his skull had caved it and his legs were broken. I found this out from Reggie. She burst into my room, without Mitch, sobbing hysterically. At that moment, I had completely forgotten that I was mad at her. We drove to the hospital to check on Otto. He was still in surgery, and was expected to stay there for the rest of the night.

As we sat in the waiting room, Reggie leaned her head onto my shoulder and clutched my arm. I asked her where Mitch was. She told me that he had dumped her that morning, that he was sick of her sulking over the fact that I wouldn’t talk to her. It had been a rough day for her. I tried to apologize to her and offered to call up Mitch to explain myself, but she told me to forget about it.

“It wasn’t working out anyway.” she said. I asked her why.

“I’m interested in someone else.” she said in a small voice. I felt a wave of remorse pass through my body. I knew she was talking about me. I didn’t push the subject any farther.

Ray Rocket came into the waiting room to give us an update on Otto. He told us that the doctors had fixed Otto’s skull, but that he would never be the same again. He would have to get physical therapy, speech therapy, and would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Ray mentioned that the doctor’s had given him the option of “pulling the plug.” Letting Otto die in peace, ending his suffering.

Reggie asked him what he was going to do. Ray said that he would pull the plug. To my surprise, Reggie did not burst out yelling at her father, she merely nodded and wiped a tear from her eye. Ray said that it would be better this way, and it was. We all knew Otto would’ve hated being a cripple; he had spent his whole life being physically active. We also knew that Ray didn’t have the money to pay for Otto’s recovery nor the patience to deal with him.

Otto had given Ray so much grief lately with his new activities. In a sick way, I think that this might’ve been Ray’s way of getting revenge on Otto. Of course, I didn’t metion this to anyone.

Ray told us to go home and get some sleep. Reggie was quiet throughout the entire ride. When we reached the cul-de-sac, I gave her a hug, bid her goodbye, and started to walk towards my house. But Reggie called for me to stop, I turned around to find her shaking. She said that she didn’t want to spend the night in an empty house and asked if she could crash at my place. I told her, “Of course”.

We entered my empty house, and Reggie headed towards my room, I followed her. She laid down on my bed and rather confusingly, I sat down beside her. I had expected to let her sleep in the spare bedroom, but apparently when she mentioned not wanting to be alone, she didn’t want to sleep alone either. As I pondered this, I noticed that Reggie had started to sob, again.

I gathered her in my arms, and wiped away her tears. Telling her that everything would be okay, stroking her long, silky, hair. Then, I did the stupidest thing that I could do at the time. Without thinking, I kissed her. As my lips covered hers, and I realized in shock what I was doing, Reggie did something that I had feared she would do. She kissed me back.

Granted, I had kissed girls before, at parties. But nothing compared to this. Our tounges clashed together, battling for dominace. Never, in my life had I experienced such passion with another person(as corny as it sounds). After what seemed like forever, I pulled back to catch my breath and tried to talk, but Reggie attacked my lips again.

We stretched out horizontily on my bed. Both our shirts fell to the floor. Zippers were unzipped, skin was groped, a condom was unwrapped, undergarments were ripped off. Two peole lost their virginity. Simple as that.

After we had seperated, we lay in my bed, sweating, and panting. A wave of fear rushed over me. What if Reggie didn’t want this? What if she was mad? What if she accused me of rape? Slowly, I turned my head to look at her. She was already looking back at me with a smile on her face. A smile? She nestled her head into my chest and closed her eyes. Right then, we weren’t two people who had just suffered a tragic loss of an old friend. We were just two fucked-up people, sharing a bed.

As for my feelings regarding the death of Rocket Boy, the self-proclaimed “sickest boarder” in town; total indifference. I wasn’t overly joyed with elation that the arrogant little schmuck was dead, but I wasn’t crying my eyes out like Ray and Reggie either.

Otto’s funeral was two days later. The reception was small, quiet and over before I knew it. The only people who came were Ray, Reggie, Tito, and me. The two days following Otto’s death, Reggie and I tried to define our relationship. It was the most awkward and uncomfortable conversation I’d ever had.

Reggie confessed that she had been crushing on me for years, I responed with false surprise, not wanting to let her to know that I had known. We agreed to start of our new relationship slow and see what happened.

Since christmas was just a week away, I decided that it would be a good gesture to buy Reg a gift. In all honesty I can say that I didn’t want to date Reggie. I still thought dating your best friend was wrong and having sex with them was even worse. But I knew that if I dumped her now she would be heartbroken and do something crazy. I bought Reggie a silver bracelet with our initials engraved on the inside.

On the afternoon of December 25, I walked over to Reggie’s house to give her my gift. She smiled at me when she opened the door and whispered “Merry Christmas” before kissing me. I noticed that she was wearing a black mini skirt and I could have sworn that I saw an almost seductive glint in her eye. She led me into the living room and we sat down on the couch. I noticed that the house seemed rather empty and Reggie must’ve been reading my mind.

“My dad went over to Tito’s place for a couple hours.”

I nodded and handed her the tiny package. She let out an audible gasp as she opened the box pulled me into a tight hug, saying over and over agian how much she loved it. Then she brought her lips to mine in what I had expected to be a little thank-you kiss. Boy, was I off.

Reggie straddled my hips and begun to tug at my t-shirt, never breaking the kiss. Again, everything happened in a flash and before I knew it we were both panting and sweating, tangled up on the living room floor.

So much for taking it slow.

Relunctantly, I began a relationship with Reggie. At times, I did find that I enjoyed her being “more than a friend” to me. But every once in awhile, I would suffer from short pangs of guilt. It was the guilt of knowing that I didn’t like Reggie the way she liked me. I kept promising myself to break it off with her as soon as she got over Otto’s death. But, I knew deep down, that it would probably never happen.

So, we continued to do normal “couple things”. We held hands in public, went out on friday nights, went to school dances together, ect. Now, I’m not going to lie and tell you that I couldn’t stand the physical part of our relationship. I didn’t cringe everytime she touched me, or gag evertime we kissed. It was actually the quite the opposite. People please, underneath my cynical views and judgements, I am still a hormornal teenage boy.

Anyway, our realtionship stayed strong throughout tenth grade and continued on into our junior year. The summer after tenth grade felt extremely quiet. Maurice went to camp again, and Ray seemed unusually reserved. I think it was odd for him. The past summers he had spent reprimanding Otto for whatever trouble he got into, skating related or otherwise. There was never a dull moment.

The Rocket house itself seemed dead. Ray had thrown himself into maintaing his resturant and rental shop, trying to ignore the pain of having lost a child. He only went home when he needed to sleep or shower. Even Reggie spent less time in her own house. Without a parent around, she saw no reason to not sleep at a friend’s house, or mine. Since my mother had become increasingly busy with work; it didn’t really effect her if Reggie spent the night (she still thought I was a virgin anyway).

It was indeed the most peaceful (if not a little boring) summer Reggie and I had ever experienced.

Junior year was over before I knew it. It wasn’t very exciting, I did all the normal cliche’ things that your supposed to do. I took my SATs, I researched colleges, I got my licesne, I did a lot of homework, I bought a car, I went to the prom with Reggie. My relationship with Reggie had been going smoothly until the end of the school when I told her my plans for the summer. I would be spending the entire summer in New York City with my brother.

She flipped out. First off, she gave me hell for “abandoning her” and then she gave me crap for never even mentioning that I had a brother. I repsonded with “How come you never asked?” , this only got me in more trouble. Oh, the tradgedy.

Anyway, back to my brother, Clinton. He’s actually my half-brother, same dad, different moms. You see, back when he was in college, my old man was quite the player. During his sophmore year, he got his “girlfriend Of the term” pregnant. He spent the next eighteen years, mailing secret child support checks to her. Ten years after Clinton was born, I was born. Ten years later, Clinton called our house claiming that he was looking for his father. My parents marriage was going through a rocky stage and this as one of the reasons for their divorce.

Anyway, Clinton somehow found out about me, and started to send me e-mails telling me about himself. He was a graphic design student at NYU. We continued to keep in touch regularly without my parents knowing. Now, he’s out of school and has an awesome job working for an independent computer company in New York. The summer before my senior year, Clinton scored me internship at the company he works for. Needless to say, I jumped at the opportunity to escape another summer in Ocean Shores.

Reggie confronted with a chioce- take the internship and get dumped or stay home and keep our relationship alive. True, Reggie was extremely shallow and clingy with this offer, but I wasn’t at all offended. I broke up with her and left Ocean Shores right after school let out.

Now, I know that I sound extremely cold-hearted, dumping my girlfriend with a dead brother and a neglectful father. But please remember, that I never wanted to date Reggie in the first place and our relationship was falling apart anyway. We had begun arguing before she even found out about Clinton and sex was steadily becoming an monotonous event for me. When sex becomes boring, you know that you are not in love with the person you’re doing it with. Reggie noticed this when I kept telling her that I was too tired to do anything but kiss.

During that summer, I didn’t communicate with Reggie at all. The only person I called was my mom and that was only once a week to tell her that I was still alive. I fell in love with New York City; the buildings, the sights, even the crazy people in central park. Clinton took me to visit New York University, I fell in love with that too. So I had an interview, the admissions counsler was impressed with my eagerness, that he suggested I take summer courses so that I can graduate early from High School.

From that point on, my vaction in New York was nothing but work. I worked at my internship from 7am- 2pm. Went to classes at the local community college for another five hours, went back to Clinton’s apartment, ate, did homework, went to bead, woke up, repeated. I had never been more motivated in my life.

Any spare time I had, Clinton would show me around the city. But not all the tourist hotspots like the Empire State Building, Times Square, and the Statue of Liberty. He said that those places weren’t “his” New York. He showed me the small art gallerys, the underground clubs that were “locals only”, coffee houses were you could discuss anything from politics to art with total strangers. It was an eye-opening experience.

I also took the chance to change my outer apperance. My blond hair had grown darker over the years, but no dark enough. I had it dyed black, and cut it so that I no longer looked like a california surf punk. The hair dresser even put some product in my hair, it didn’t make it spiky and hard looking but messy and tousled. I also took the opportunity to gert some piercings like Clinton. He had both ears and his nose pierced. I got my ears pierced and my left eyebrow as well.

I bought some new clothes as well. Until then, my wardrobe consisted of skate shirts and cargo pants. Clinton showed me a place where I bought an assortment of band t-shirts, black pants, and a lot of cool vintage clothing at cheap prices.

My time in that glorious city was over before I knew it. I arrived back in Ocean Shores a few days before my senior year would begin. My mother was shocked at my new appearence but didn’t scold me for it, she was just tired of being alone. The first day of school was a surprise for everyone, including me. People didn’t even realize who I was until I called out “Here” when my name was called in homeroom.

I could tell by the look on her face that Reggie was shocked just as much as everyone else, but she had a little surprise for me as well. During lunch I spotted her making out with a guy that had always been in our class but whom I didn’t know well, I’d tell you his name but it doesn’t really matter. I found out through the grapevine (Trish and Sherry) that Reggie had started dating him a few weeks after I had left for New York.

Reggie’s new relationship held no interest to me. I carried on at school, ignoring Reggie as if I hadn’t known her for seven years. I did, however, notice that I ran across Reggie and her boyfriend a lot, as if she had planted herself in my way, trying to taunt me with what I no longer had. Her efforts were futile, as I had never really had feelings for her.

I was talking to people, of course. I usually chatted with the art freaks and drama club members at lunch. I had told them of my summer in New York and my plans for early graduation. Being the culture-starved kids they were, their eyes became filled with jealousy. Some how or another Reggie found out about this and confronted me one day afterschool.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” a shrieking voice yelled behind me. I spun around to see Reggie glaring at me, her face red with rage and her eyes pink from what I could only guess as tears.

“What?” I responded, confused.

“What? What do you mean ‘What?’ Why didn’t you tell me that you were graduating early?”

“It didn’t really seem that you were interested in my life, what with your new boyfriend and all.”

“Oh stop being jealous!”

“I’m not jealous.” I answered truthfully.

“Why are you doing this, Sam? Why are you leaving your home so early?” this just riled me up.

“This. Is. Not. My. Home.” I said through clenched teeth.

“Yes it is Sammy.” and this reaction broke me.

“No! It’s not! Don’t you understand Reg? I hate this place! I’ve always hated it, ever since day one when I met the so-called “Rocket Crew”! I hated being a goalie, I hated surfing, I hate the ignorance and hot weather. I and especially hate skaters!” my voice was becoming hoarse. Reggie was looking at me in fright, tears were running down her face.

“Do you hate me?” she asked in a soft, trembling voice. So unlike the one I was used to. For some reason, I hung my head in shame.

“No Reggie, I don’t hate you” I answered with sincerity. “But I don’t love you either.” And with that I walked away from her muffled sobs.

I never talked to Reggie again.

After my heart-to-heart with Reggie, time just flew by. Before I knew it, January was here and I recievced my diploma. There was no big ceremony, no cap or gown, no big party afterwards. There was just me in the principals’ office, recieving the certificate of graduation and a handshake of congratulations. After that, I cleaned out my locker and walked out the front door, never stopping to look back. I was free, and every second I stayed in California was wasted.

I reached the house that I had wasted the past seven years in. A “For Sale” sign sat in the front yard. My mother had decided that she didn’t want to live alone in a house which she knew I did not want to come home to visit. So she applied for a job in New York, and rented out an apartment on the other side of the city from where I would be staying.I didn’t take this move her s to be “suffocating” or “annoying”. I knew this was what was best for her. Like me, she had grown tired of the California lifestyle.

Two days after I graduated, we boarded a plan to New York.

Well folks, that’s pretty much it. That is the fall of the almighty “Rocket Crew”. Prepare yourself for the “Where are they now?” segment.

Maurice Rodriguez graduated in the top five of his class at his military school. Upon graduation, he recieved a scholarship to West Point. The catch was, he had to serve two years in the military, which had been his dream. I actually got an e-mail from him a few months back, he’s located in the middle-east, hunting down terrorists or whatever. As far as I know, he hasn’t been wounded or killed yet, and I hope it stays that way.

I don’t know the entire story about Reggie, only what I’ve heard from the artsy kids back at Ocena Shores who e-mailed me. She broke up with what’s-his-name and barely talked for the rest of her senior year. She was accepted into Berkley and is majoring in Journalism. I have not seen a picture of her or talked to her since she yelled at me.

Otto, is still, of course- dead. His flesh being devoured by maggots, bones starting to show through. What’s not dead is “The Shack”, Ray had poured so much energy into that place, he opened a new one in a nearby town. And then he opened another, and another, so on and so forth. “The Shack” is now a national a franchise that has already taken over the west coast. They have yet to build one in New York, which I’m thankful for. Sure, the food was good; but the place would only bring back bad memories.
I read somewhere, that Ray was still living in Claifornia, but in Mansion outside of Ocean Shores. He and Tito go surfing everyday now.

As for me, well, I’m in my senior year at NYU, majoring in computer graphics. I got my own apartment a few blocks down from Clinton’s. It’s rare for me to see a skater rip down the sidewalks of New York. But when I do, bad memories resurface, my eyes cloud over, and I get really pissed. I also throw something at the kid on the skateboard, and duck behind a dumpster or into a nearby building, so noone can arrest me. I watch as he picks himself off the grund, looking in every direction for his attacker, looking very insecure about himself.

It always gets a laugh out of me. THE END

Please Note- this story in no way reflects my feelings towards skaters, surfers, or Californians. This is just what I think goes on in Sam’s head.