Safety 180

[Anthony Kite]

I told everyone I had the flu, but that wasn’t quite it. I was pretty wiped out, but it wasn’t from being sick. I’ve been having nightmares. I can’t really remember what happens in them, but it’s not helping me get any sleep. And when I wake up…

I’m starting to think the dreams aren’t just dreams. I’m actually hoping I’m sleepwalking.

In the morning, I always find that something’s missing. Or ruined. One night I stayed out too late and didn’t feel like doing my homework, and when I woke up, my textbook had been left outside and got rained on. Well, I guess it’s hard to do your homework without the book. This is a little embarrassing, but I was starting to get a zit on my chin, and when I woke up, I had a scab instead like I’d bailed out on my face. What the hell?

I know this is really weird, but I almost feel kind of protected. But whatever it is could be a little nicer about it, you know?



I’ve been staying with my mom in a hotel while I’m waiting for my room assignment, and she keeps talking about stuff like that. Angels and whatnot. Someone’s always watching, that kind of Big Brother stuff. Maybe the Catholic thing is starting to get to her. I really feel to blame for all this. The last thing I want to do is stress her more. She had to find a substitute teacher for her for the beginning of the year, so that’s not helping either.



Hm, what else? I’ve gotten to be pretty good friends with Ty. He’s a real dork. I’m actually kind of afraid to trick full-out in front of him ‘cause it might hurt his feelings. It’s stupid and I should be honest. He’s good at stuff I’m not, so he should be cool with it; but, he’ll joke about himself but get pissed when I take shots at him. I dunno. He’s one of the only people I know well here so far.

Bobby seems like a cool guy, too, although I don’t know him that well yet. He’s got Starshot swim trunks. That really is a trip. I wouldn’t have expected the East Coasties to be into that. From what I hear, the Baltimore and D.C. kids are pretty hardcore and don’t give two shits about brand labels. I mean, Starshot’s pretty yuppie-tastic, all Hollywood and whatnot.

I really want to meet that Sam chick. We’re always missing one another. We might be meant for each other. Heh, not likely. She’s probably taken anyway, cool skater chick like that.



I’m still looking for some prime terrain. I’ve been skating around Galaxy, but there’s a lot of hiking involved. Steel Canyon has some awesome screamers, but the gangs there are really aggressive, and I’m not exactly Jet Set Radio or whatever. I can see how the hardcore lifestyle got started--you need it out here just to have a little bit of turf to use. I mean, I respect it, but it’s not my thing. I’m more like the Hackers to their Swordfish. The NOFX to their Anti-Flag.

[Anthony Kite]

Man, when it wasn't bad enough, now the lack of sleep is making me sick. If I'm not tired from what feels like bouts of food poisoning, I'm exhausted from skating. All this heroism around, I felt like I had to do something this off-season. Maybe I'll do mall demos or something. So I've been training that any second I can spare. Sam gave me a heads-up about a skate park in Faultline--

I met her finally! Wow, what a doll, seriously. Get this: she's a tank. And not just the hero class. She's practically indestructible. Plus she can fly. And she's super nice. And has this cute friend named Vesper who she's teaching to skate. She's kinda perfect, but I mean...yeah, I'm not in a position to get involved with anyone. And considering I don't have anything in the way of a crew here, I'm happy for the friendship. She's got this fearless thing--not intimidated or put off by me at all, so I'm actually looking forward to going snowboarding this season and giving her grinding pointers and just, I dunno. She's like one of the dudes. But not even like Meiying; she's crew, but she's still a chick; there's all this teasing and pretty much everyone's made a pass at her at some point. But Sam just...is. I feel like a prick even thinking about this crap.

I've never felt...humbled by praise before. But Sam's in the scene, so she's actually seen me skate, which is weird to think about. She keeps telling people how awesome I am...

She knows about the Cali roll.

No, not that one.

The one I stuck.

I've honestly never felt so much pressure before. Not from sponsors or competition or anything. Around Sam I feel like I've got to be on my "A" game all the time, like I'd let her down if I turned out to be any less cool than she's making me out to be. If I ever did let her down, I think that'd crush me. Even if I wasn't averse to dating in general... Yeah, I just couldn't.

I also met this girl Jessie. She's totally blue and has spots and long blue hair. No, really. She's all shy and cute and blushes purple. We hung out last Radio Night at Pocket D and danced some. She seems kind of harmless, which is nice. We had fun just partying, no ulterior motives. Not feeling like a predator for once is welcome.



I'm glad the whole San Diego fire thing is coming to an end. It was pretty nail-biting for a while, but we live on the coast, plenty far from the fire line. Aunt Nancy's staying with Mom and Dad while they fix up her house. The damage wasn't that bad (just smoke and water) since they were on the edge and stayed till the police came, digging up all the grass and soaking the roof. Way to fight the man, Anti-Nancy! I'll probably have to help them re-landscape next summer, though.



Ty ran my boxers up the flagpole a while ago. At least I'm pretty sure it was him. Who else'd target me? Well, he's got it coming regardless. I just need some more time to gather ammo...

Biff's taken to picking on me for wearing my skates around. Hell knows why. I was pretty sure he was gonna make a move on me today, but I slipped by when he was all distracted at his locker. I think someone filled his lock with super glue. I mean, who'd be stupid enough to do that to Biff in the first place? Not to mention the nuns' stance on vandalism. It worked out okay for me, but then I get that deja vu feeling like with my textbook and stuff and...yeah, I really don't want to think about it anymore.

[Anthony Kite]

OOC: Sorry these updates aren't paced very well, but I added some more content to the story and made five levels today, so I'm trying to catch up fiction-wise.



Up until now, I've always avoided using my "powers." I didn't know that's what they were. I figured I just got damned lucky and who was to know when my luck would run out?

But now...now it's kind of like a game to see how far I can push myself. Power through the pain and come out stronger on the other side. Through carefully tearing my muscles apart I've managed to become more flexible, which is good for kicking thugs in the teeth with heavy skates. I'm reminded of the medieval ascetics or the crazy Chinese monks developing iron fist, destroying their bodies to make themselves stronger. I mean, I can't help but feel a little badass.

So, naturally, I wonder if I can die.

I'd broken my neck before and walked away. Really bad injuries like broken bones and internal hemorrhaging heal up pretty quick, but the scabs and bruises left behind take a little longer. Which leads me to think, would a mortal wound heal quickly enough to save me?

Maybe the constant fevers have me delirious.

Still, I have to try it. Every time I pick myself up, reset the bones, untwist the ligaments, it's like uncovering a buried treasure. Every time tingles a little more, has a bit more punch. It's like I'm on the cusp of something. I have to push it.


So here I am: the top of the suspension of Valor Bridge. It's been shut down for gang violence, so there's no traffic to disturb. It wasn't easy getting up here, but that wasn't the point.

I reach into my shirt and peel away the badge. It beeps a little in protest before fluttering away in the wind. Now it's just me and the bridge. My biggest trick yet, I guess. Maybe all this has happened for a reason... Mom going on about guardian angels... What if I'm throwing everything away right now? What if I die here?

Everyone tells you the first time you drop into a vert ramp or a bowl: it's the scariest thing of your life standing on the lip. But you've got to give it your all. Throw your whole self into it and it'll give you the best thrill of your life. Pussy out and go home bloody and crying.

I stand back against the service railing so there's a good five feet to the edge and I can't see the massive nothing beyond. I'll have to sprint, run so I can't stop even if I want to. Even though I know about ramps and bowls and I've already decided to do this, I'm still scared as shit.

No time for doubt now. I wouldn't be up here if I didn't think I had a chance of making it. So do it!

Before the next thought can worm its way into my head I push off the railing at a full tilt. Hop to the top of the opposite railing and then--

Jesus Christ, the whole world drops away. It's not even like I'm falling. It's just windy and huge and I'm tilting slowly forward, legs still running. It's taking forever. I imagine I'm getting stuck in the sky, falling forever, going nowhere.

No, here comes the ground. I've been holding my breath, like it's the high dive at the pool or something. I gasp like maybe I can swim through air and I'm only drowning and all I have to do to save myself is fight for the surface.

When did everything get so big? I don't want this! Oh, God, here it comes! What have I done?

[Anthony Kite]

There's nothing. No white light. No pearly gates. No flames. No purgatory. No black even. Just nothing. Nothing going on forever and for nowhere. I'm not even thinking. I know that's weird to say, but it's not like loosing time where you just blink and you're somewhere else. Even though there's no time here, time is passing elsewhere and here there's nothing stretched out to fill the gap.

The first thing I'm aware of is the wind. Far off. It's hurting me. Everywhere the wind touches is pain. I fall into it, sucked into the middle of this blinding white ball and everything tightens but nothing moves because it can't. It's not part of me anymore.

There's--there's red. There's blood. Everywhere. It's just, oh, God, just everywhere. The way it quivers in the wind--there's a skin on it. How long has it been pouring out of me? I think I'm moving, though that's the last thing I want to do right now. The coagulated puddle shifts and there are sucking noises, popping. I'd be disgusted if it didn't hurt so damn much. I'd be sick if that muscle worked.

I feel my spine reform, and as much as that's awesome, it brings with it a whole new set of hurts. The power, the drain on what's left of me, it's so strong I'm reeling. I've got to admit, I'm as excited as I am miserable. I can move my head a little now and through one un-popped eye I can see the street beyond my spatter. Is that my arm over there? Hitting the cement divider must have torn it off. My stomach tries to be sick again and my collapsed sinuses suck air painfully. The socket where it should be is still jagged and bleeding, not regrowing like the rest.

My lizard brain makes my right hand reach out and grab it, drag it back. It's heavier than I expect. But there's something else. In the puddle over there, there's something bright and blinking. It's the MedEvac.

Goddamned lucky.

[Anthony Kite]

Bed rest. It's the best and the worst at the same time. You don't have to do anything, but you can't do anything. I don't know why they made me, since I could have skated back from Bell Medical Center, but for now I'm stuck in the school infirmary with Sister Mary Agatha so I don't go anywhere. They're calling it, "Observation."

And part detention, I suppose. I had to go through this whole thing just to prove my stunt wasn't a suicide attempt. Nope, survival attempt. I guess it's not so uncommon in Paragon?

I'm alive, I feel alive, it feels good to feel alive. But I still get the impression that something's missing.

My arm reattached itself after I got to the hospital. They had to go back and find some of my teeth, though. That was nice of them. At least I know my limits now. Blood grows back, pulverized bones mend, but if I lose it, it's gone.

I hope no one visits me. I look pretty awful, all rainbow colors and scabs and bloody eyes. I'm just waiting out the hours 'till I can go back and sleep in my room. I've got some thinking to do. I have to figure out what went wrong.

[Anthony Kite]

We were at that party at Ashanti’s. Everything was like it had been before. I passed the kitchen and they were cheering as shot glasses clinked to the counter. She appeared on my arm, grinning, and blinked slowly. We danced for a while. Tom had snuck Nelly Furtado onto the stereo--we all knew it was him but I promised to keep his secret.

She was so pretty, green eyeshadow sparkling. She whispered sloppily in my ear as we danced, hooking her thumb under her bra strap to keep it from running away.

I went to get her some water and we crashed on the leather couch. Ashanti strutted by, announcing that she was headed off to “powder her nose,” dragging half the girls off with her. Emilio practically fell in my lap.

“Man, you’re so lucky. You’ve got no clue how good you got it, man.”

“What’re you talking about, dude? You’ve got Carla. Tightest ass in Leucadia“

"Tight is right, man. Uptight. She doesn't want to look like all those Mexican bitches with their baby-daddies.”

“What? And you’re saying Jenny does?”

Emilio giggled. “No, man. Everybody loves Jenny. She’s no slut. But she’d put out for you man, for sure. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.” He stabbed me in the shoulder with a finger, his chunky class ring glinting.

We chilled there for a while appreciating the view of the dance floor. I gave Emilio my water.

"Hey, Emi-baby.” Jenny slid in on the other side of me, competing with the listing boy for real estate.

“Hey, Jenny. I’ll catch you later, man.” He winked at me and we went through the Bomb Squad handshake.

I looked her over. My girl. She hugged my shoulder, smiled, and kissed me on the jaw. I asked her how she was feeling. Fine, she said, though she smelled a little like tequila. I wasn’t quite sober, either, though. I asked her how the powdering went. She giggled dismissively and readjusted her denim skirt over her thighs. I put my arm around her, her skin prickly.

“Are you chilly, baby? I can run to the car and get your sweater.”

She nodded, grinning cheekily. “But I’d better go with you and make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

We walked down the street to where I’d parked the old Toyota.

The dream went fuzzy. All the kisses, the broken bones, the highs and crashes, the terror of never being able to skate again, all of it wrapped into a multimedia explosion that knocked the wind out of me.

The air was damp and salty, the cement firm, and in the distance Nelly Furtado thumped away. My car in the distance was quickly becoming an inferno.

That’s not how it went that night. That’s not what happened at all…



I woke up in a cold sweat to Sister Mary Agatha clucking unhappily. Apparently I’m running a fever of 101 and it’s only rising.

[Anthony Kite]

How could you describe reincarnation? Becoming something else. Becoming more yourself. Abandoned and refound, changed. Maybe greater. But definitely somewhat new. It works out cosmically, I guess. Somewhere a scale is evening. But here, now, in my head, it doesn't make any goddamn sense. All I keep thinking is, "Why me?"

Everything was burning. Like the tingling, only turned up to eleven. It still is, but it's concentrating now. Sister Mary Agatha went to get Doc Syl and they both look worried, my temperature off the chart, my blood boiling and regrowing, my brain frying and refrying. I'm just curled up, staring at the nun's knees, panting, on edge. Doc Syl's on the phone with MAGI. They wouldn't be so worried if I was a mutant, I guess, if I'd shown signs of pyrokinetics or something. But this is anything-goes from what I can catch of the conversation beyond the pounding in my ears.

My torso's on fire and now my limbs are ice. Metaphorically, that is--I guess I have to be specific about that given the context. The burning is swirling, finding a home somewhere near my spine, the cold creeping in right behind it, seizing my organs. I'm trying to keep Doc Syl updated, but it's hard to form words. My temperature's coming down again, back to the magical 101 I've been running off and on for the past two months.

But that burning--it's hard to call it that anymore--it's almost like being stabbed with a hot crowbar. It feels like my arms want to pop off and run away. I consider tearing one off with the other, like it might release the pressure.

Then I feel the tingling again, normally, if you could call it that, but very poignantly, down in my gut. It's like it's sucking the marrow out of my bones with a straw. Pulling from everything, leaving nothing, fueling the monster between my shoulders.

Sister Mary Agatha yelped in surprise, but over my own screaming and the pain, it barely registered. It exploded, whatever it was, and then it was all over. I want to sleep so badly. I'm curious, but the exhaustion, it's too much.

Doc Syl is calling my name. I fight the black spiders from the edge of my vision and try to focus on her. She's asking how I'm doing, how I feel.

I have to think about that. Aside from the tug of sleep and some aching in my back, I feel fine. Relieved, even. Like somehow now and what happened on the bridge are connected--completed.

I think Doc Syl was asking me if I wanted a mirror, but I was already asleep.

[Anthony Kite]

Okay. How do I say this with objectivity and dignity?

Well, might as well out with it.

I've got wings.

Not big, cool, flying ones. Little, pussy, feathered wings. Like those cherubs in paintings or sculpture, but only if that cherub grew up in Sudan. They're all scraggly and blood-stained. And sore.

It hurts to move them, which I can, although I haven't got the hang of the new muscles and things. So they twitch a lot when I try to do things with my hands and it generally sucks. I spent most of today sleeping uncomfortably and cutting holes in all but my favorite shirts. And crying, I'll admit it. I've picked up the phone at least twenty times to call Mom, but I just can't bring myself to do it. She'll blame herself.

I shouldn't have questioned shit. I shouldn't have tested my luck. I shouldn't have jumped.

I shouldn't have survived the Cali roll. I shouldn't have even gotten that far.



The year I got my first skates, that summer, I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I needed to be famous. It wasn't for the fun or to be a good role model. I wanted to do something no one else had done. Like the guy who went over Niagara Falls in a wooden barrel just to say he could.

I was nine. I loved hills. I'd scream down them all afternoon if you'd let me, wiping out in the grass of the tree lawn when I didn't have the balls to go any faster. Mom would go with me, we'd bring a snack, and she'd sip iced tea while I skinned my knees up. She was so proud, I don't know why.

It was getting late one day and I begged for one more run before we went home for dinner. Neither of us saw the car coming and he didn't see me. That was the first time I died.

I woke up in my mom's arms. She was whiter than flour, shaking, hugging me too hard. But after the hospital and a few months I was right as rain. She said I was being looked after, that I would do great things.

I think about asking Mom what happened that day. But then I'm afraid she'll tell me.

[Anthony Kite]

I went to go see MAGI today, finally feeling up to it. A lot of the nasty bits have--well, molted by now, and the feathers are coming in a real light gray with darker ends. They actually look pretty healthy and soft aside from the gooey baby bird thing. But, jeez, I never would have expected them to be so sensitive. Almost like...yeah. Sensitive. So I took the tram and walked the rest of the way there. The wind would have been a bit much.

According to the "reader" types, I'm putting out mild levels of "astral" energy. I'm not so sure what they mean by that. Ghosts and dead gods "githyanki" and stuff? The going theory is that I'm channeling a bit of an astral entity--not exactly the guardian angel Mom hoped for. While they couldn't pick up on it when I first came to Paragon, the link isn't new. It's just stronger now.

So I had to ask the inevitable question: if I keep using my powers, is it going to take over? The good news is probably not. Unless I die again. I probably only get so many of those before--well, no one knows right now. The link is too weak for them to read into the nature of--whatever it is. And, you know? I'm okay with that.

I've got a ton of school to make up. On the up side, I haven't felt sick since the bridge stunt. But it's spooky how thin I've gotten. I mean, I've always been kind of lanky, but now I'm...not gaunt, but like there isn't anything to spare. I suppose I'd look pretty muscular if my frame wasn't so small and wiry. I'm not complaining. In skating, compact is good.

But now that I've had a minute to think and not just be miserable, I've got to wonder what's going to happen to my skating career... So I guess I'm still miserable.

My roommates have been nice enough to keep quiet so far, but I'm going to have to go back to class sooner or later.

[Anthony Kite]

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. What happened to the no girls rule? I promised myself and Mom for a reason. And now I've fucked it up with the one girl I like more than that.

I had to ask her to homecoming. I was compelled. We were all talking about the dance and Ty dares me to secure a date and Sam goes, "Oh, you should totally take Jessiy!" Jessiy? Sure, she's cute and all, but... God, that really stung. It caught me off guard, how much that hurt, that she'd suggest so emphatically that I go with another girl. Eventually I just couldn't take the punishment of everyone going on about the dance. Before I could catch myself, I was reaching for her elbow and took her aside. I mean, sometimes chicks do that: they try to push someone else on you to see how you react.

Maybe I couldn't stand her not knowing even if telling her I liked her would give her the opportunity to shoot me down. And when she inevitably did, I tried to backpedal like it wasn't a big deal, to make it out like since we're friends, we could go as friends since I didn't really know anyone else. But I know I'm crap at covering my ass in these things, and she's not an idiot. But even so, I guess nothing's ruined between us. I just feel like a dumbass and I feel bad for imposing. Big surprise, she already has a guy.

I'm doing it again already: being all pushy. But I really respect Sam. I don't want to take undue advantage of how nice she is. So when I caught myself holding her hand a little too long there, I panicked and pulled back. She got all worried she'd crushed it. No, nothing could come close to what already I did to myself on the bridge... Right...?

Sure, it hurt then having every inch of me liquefied, but I'm fine now. But this thing with Sam--it's only bugging me more and more. What makes her so different from any other friend I've had? What makes her so different from any other girl? It's torture when I should be thankful. I should be grateful for having met her and for every second that we've been friends.

Even still, I'm really psyched about heading out to the park this week. We'll practice all the grinding stances, I think. Maybe I'll show off a bit. Dunno. We'll have to see how the new appendages hold up. That and they seem to shiver when I get nervous--not exactly helpful when I'm trying to keep my cool.

I hate to seem like I'm obsessed with the things. It's just, they're not like any old arm or something. It's more like when you've got a bum knee and everything you do takes into account that limitation. Everyone's giving me all this pressure to learn to fly... Jeez, let me learn to sleep and run and skate with them first.

[Anthony Kite]

It's been a while since the bridge thing and Doc Syl said I've got 'till tomorrow to call my parents about it or she will. Uhg. I know they'll understand eventually, but I just don't want to bring even more crap on them. They really don't deserve it from their only kid.

MAGI was asking if I could think of any familial ties that could explain what's happening to me. Obviously, not that I know of! But then I got to thinking, I really don't know anything about Mom's side of the family at all.

I really take after my dad who's full-blooded Italian, and living in Encinitas, which is hugely white for San Diego county, Mom always encouraged me to embrace my Italian heritage. It would just be easier for me to get by, she said. Every summer she'd religiously slather me with suntan lotion--and I'm already pretty pale all things considered--to the point that I was lighter skinned than most of my surfing buddies. No one assumes I'm Hispanic unless they figure out that "Mrs. Alvarado" is my mom; and if I didn't have buddies like Emilio, my Spanish would be crap.

I guess it's never bugged me, passing for white. No one hassles me. I get the benefit of the doubt a lot, I guess. After all, I'm just as much Italian, so there's nothing wrong with identifying with that. It's not like I have to wear a scarlet letter.

But anyway, Mom's told me next to nothing about before the time she and Dad met at a SCUBA thing in college. Grandma Nene moved from Mexico to retire in Phoenix in 1998. Beyond that, who knows.

I don't want to be suspicious of Mom. She's a good Catholic and has done everything to see I'm happy and safe. And Dad, master of spin, seems fine with leaving the past in the past. Who am I to go digging? If there's something I should know, I'm sure they'd tell me.

[Anthony Kite]

Hey, we won homecoming. Not bad for a Catholic school. It was probably rigged, but whatever. Everyone got really into the festivities and rowdy is always fun.

I'm not sure what I was so worked up over. Maybe it was because the music was loud and I was kinda drunk, but asking Jessiy to the dance was a piece of cake. My nerves melted and we had a lot of fun in the mosh pit, even though it was pretty tame. It's cool to see a girl like her let loose.

Some last minute thrift store crawling turned up a sport coat that was actually in my size, so I did the tie thing and worked the whole indie rocker angle. I'd only ever been to school dances to crash them, so it felt a little strange to be going to one legitimately. I even picked up a rose for Jessiy.

She looked real cute, her hair in an up-do and curled over her shoulders. She ahd a white and red dress--she was probably the most clothed girl there, not that that's a bad thing.

We had a good time goofing around. The DJ didn't suck, but the requests sure did. She had some old Vandals, so I put in for "Anarchy Burger (Hold the Government)" and that was pretty much the high point of the evening, music-wise.

Nigel and Bri won the popularity contest. Apparently they're both transfer students? Oops. I voted for Ty, which was probably a throw-away, but I'm nice like that. It's not like I gave a shit who won anyway. Either way, Jessiy got pretty upset about Bri winning. I tried to calm her down, but she just wanted to go home after that. So I walked her back to her quad and figured I'd go back to the dance. There wasn't anything better to do, and I hoped I might say, "Hi," to Sam since she had looked pretty busy before.

As luck would have it, I ran into her in the lobby, and from then on she kind of--I dunno...latched on to me? Apparently Eddie had gotten real sick so she was just out to support the team and hang with friends. Of course I was more than happy to play wing-man and deflect Ty who was asking pretty much everyone for dances.

It's weird, I never really though of Sam as a jock since she skates, but she's definitely not in the scene. But she did promise to go to an underground show since I got all dressed up and came out to the prep thing. We'll see how that goes. At the very least I'll drag her to Warped next summer to catch a couple of the real punk bands.

Getting over my nerves with Jessiy was probably what made it easier to talk to Sam, even kicking it one-on-one. She really is just like one of the guys. But, damn, does she have nice legs.

Anyway, so we can get there early, we'll be hitting the skate park on, like, five hours of sleep, but whatever. As long as I get some practice in before she shows up. Staying up was well worth it and we'll tear it up tomorrow no worries.

[Anthony Kite]

I flew back home for Thanksgiving. Uhg, airports. I never liked them, all the security checkpoints and official looking shit. Everyone expects me to have drugs or something and all my gear is apparently suspicious. But now I have to do the whole thing with frickin' wings. I was getting used to the weirdness density of Paragon, so now to go home... I think only one other kid at La Costa turned out to have powers, and he was just a super taster or a human calculator or something lame like that.

Mom cried. Not much, but still. I hate that. Dad was stoic, as usual. They understood the bridge thing--Dad said it was only natural--they didn't see the wings as related. Man, I love my parents.

Aunt Nancy and Uncle Luis came, and so did Grandpa and Grandma Kite. Matteo made it, but Uncle Al and Merilee were stuck in New York and didn't want to chance Thanksgiving traffic, and Grandma Nene didn't either, but she shipped us a cornbread cake. Still, I had to tell the "I have super powers" story three more times whenever someone showed up. Pretty much everyone agreed I was one lucky kid and, yeah, it sucked, but it's better than being dead. The whole family being Catholic helps with accepting the guardian angel theory, I guess. I don't think angels are "astral," but I didn't want to spoil the holiday by worrying the whole clan.

Dinner was awesome and it was great to see everyone again. On Friday I got out to the YMCA skatepark. Man, that New England weather was depressing; the sun sure felt nice.

Of course I ran into Rob and Ben. The way they have no lives beside skating, I'm surprised they're not better than me. At least Rob finally went pro. They were pretty freaked out, but Rob at least tried to look cool. Basically he said, "Hey, we're dudes. As long as you can still skate and those things can't cheat for you, it's all good."

And it was until we tried to get some time in the halfpipe. Being rollers, we can't just challenge the skateboarders to HORSE if they want to be dicks about sharing, so it all boils down to posturing. These guys knew us--there was no reason to hassle us for being kids or gay roller skaters like we were noobs or something.

It came down to the wings. I didn't conform to their idea of nonconformity.

For the first time ever, I didn't feel capable of leading the Bomb Squad. I wasn't gonna fight these assholes. Ben had to step in, too, just so we could leave in peace, and that pretty much killed the day. We just went back to my house for leftovers and Guitar Hero.

Yeah, I don't know if returning to the circuit is gonna work. I wasn't so famous that people hope I come back no matter what. Rolling's a dead sport, anyway, gone the way of punk. Now you're just a jock or a nerd or a homeboy or a scene kid, or you're a pussy poser angel fag.

[Anthony Kite]

I was on the plane to LAX the day school let out, Mom super eager to have me home. We packed again and headed out with Aunt Nancy and Luis to Grandma Nene's in Phoenix. We always do Christmas with Grandma and it's the only time I get frowned at for speaking English. Dad's Spanish isn't all that great, but he gives it a shot out of respect. Grandma's like that.

I swear, I lived in the kitchen. There was always something cooking, someone talking about food. It's great. I was in charge of the pozole this year and actually didn't make it inedible, thanks to Nancy helping when Grandma wasn't looking. Okay, maybe I'm selling myself a little short--it's not like watching soup boil is all that hard to do. But props to Nancy, especially for bringing a bottle of mezcal to wash it down.

Things only quieted down on Christmas Eve, after the rosary and ponche and all full of dinner and hot chocolate with chile, and we sit around the tree and wait for midnight. Grandma was still fussing in the kitchen an Mom had been giving me a shoulder rub, getting up for more chocolate. Dad and Uncle Luis were talking sports or something, and as their conversation died, we could hear Mom and Grandma in the kitchen, starting to argue. I don't know who started it, but Grandma was the first we could hear.

"...come to America, that's fine, you decide to stay, that's fine. But the one thing I ask, that you can't do?"

"Mamá, we have been through this. Years ago."

"Yes, and do you see now? You married that gringo and now your own son, he is possessed!"

"Mamá!"

Dad didn't bat an eye, sipped his drink. Grandma carried on, though, now in a language I hadn't heard before, and Mom switched, too. Aunt Nancy got up then, hurrying to the kitchen; it sounded like she was trying to calm them down.

Grandma made a frustrated noise and returned to Spanish: "He is going to Mass tomorrow."

"No, he's not." Mom spoke with a finality I'd here heard from her before--at least not directed at Grandma--and she came back into the living room. "Come, hijo, let's go for a walk." She grabbed my hand and hustled out of the house.

It was a little chilly out, the afternoon warm escaped. We walked a block or so in silence. Eventually Mom started explaining something all rambling and apologetic, like this was all her fault.

"Y'see, sweetie, we're not Hispanic. We're Mexica." She said it like MEH-she-ka, and totally lost me. "...The indigenous people of the Valley of Mexico."

"Oh...kay...?"

"Grandma Nenetl claims she can trace back our ancestry to one of the Emperors of the Aztec Empire--the Spanish-appointed ones, that is. But it's a pure line."

I had to laugh then. "So what the hell are you doing teaching high school sex ed. in SoCal?"

She smiled, too. "I always wanted to be a teacher, and I planned from when I was really little to come to America and get an education I would be proud to bring home. But America needed teachers, too, and I liked it, so I stayed."

"I guess it beats being the princess of a minority group in a Third World country."

"Something like that... But Grandma's convinced that, because of our lineage, the old gods might not be too happy to see that diluted. Even...okay, now don't let on that you know...but she's only grudgingly accepted Luis because Nancy can't have children..."

"What? You're kidding."

Mom nodded. "She had a bad fever after I left for college. Grandma calls it vengeance."

"But I thought Grandma was Catholic..." I checked my watch.

She just shrugged. "Try telling her that." And then she sighed. "I respect my mother, but we're alive and well despite all this, and that's the important thing." She tugged me down to kiss me on the temple.

We walked some more and went back in after that, put baby Jesus in the nativity scene, and went to bed.

[Anthony Kite]

Rob called me the day after Christmas.

"Feliz Navidad, bro."

"Yeah, merry Christmas," I corrected.

"Dude, dude, dude! I got a thing!" Rob's a pretty excitable guy, but he was going ninety miles an hour now.

"What kinda thing?"

"Okay, dude, so you know that wood pushing emo kid Ryan Sheckler? His reality show is in its second season, but he's, dude, he's no Viva La Bam or whatever. But anyway, MTV is all testing the waters for the next generation of the CKY legacy. Dude, they're pulling strings and setting up these invitational demos all over the place, getting kids off the YouTubes and shit to skate and make waves. That's us, dude, that's us!"

"Woah, hold up. You're in on this, Rob?"

"Yeah! Well, you know we did that Freshpark contest last summer? On YouTube? And they supply for the Dew Tour? And Sheckler's the golden boy of the tour and all down with MTV? Well long story short, while you were all laid up from the death roll, Freshpark took a liking to us and it was like, 'My people will call your people,' and I'm in. Philadelphia. March."

"Dude..." I couldn't think of a thing to say. This was fantastic! For Rob.

"So are you coming? You've been skating, right?"

"Wait, are you inviting me?"

"Hell yeah, bro, it's all set. I was all, 'I'm not doing it unless Kite's doing it. He made me. Besides, he's a Hero and shit. It's cool.' They dug it."

"It's a mall demo? Dude, I don't do vert, you know that."

"But you can. Way better than a lot of the kids I know. And 'sides, we're rollers. How many of us are gonna do this thing? We'll own it." He paused, and when I didn't respond right away, he added, "You can still skate, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just with the feathers I can't pull anything over nine-hundred."

I could almost hear him grin. "So do a twister."

"What the hell are you talking--"

"C'mon, it's only a three-sixty."

"And TWO back flips. Look, dude, I can't be stealing all of Yasutoko's moves."

Rob scoffed. "Who says he gets to bogart 'em? 'Sides, you said yourself you're not vert, so he's not competition. No harm no foul."

I took a deep breath and readjusted the MotoRAZR on my ear. "I wanna, Rob, I really do... I just... You remember Thanksgiving..."

"What the hell, bro? I've never seen you not all, 'Let's do this thing!' What's eating you?"

"Eh," I stalled. "Girl shit."

Rob sighed, a little frustrated, a little sympathetic. "Catholic school girls giving you the run-around?" (I scoffed.) "Dude, forget them. That's what porn's for, am I right? Get it out of your system. Live to skate, bro."

"Yeah..."

"Hey dude, bro... Dude, dude..." Rob's thinking mantra. "Dude, can you fly?"

"Uh, yeah, actually. I can."

"Weird. Ya know, kick ass, but weird. Look, look, I'm taking the whole week off school for the demo anyway, I'll fly out to you and we'll nail that twister. Like, if it's the last thing you ever do." He cracked himself up.

What a friend. True leader of the Bomb Squad. I swallowed it. This was my chance back into the spotlight. I couldn't let bruised egos and envy and pride and that crap nail the lid on my career. "Yeah, let's do this."

"That's my bro! Alright! So, you're getting back into Encinitas tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna hit Big Bear on Monday?"

"Hell yeah. I've got to break in my new boots. Ya know, so I can impress the school girls." I was feeling better. Good, even. But my stab a a joke sounded more like bitter sarcasm.

Rob steamrolled on. "Oh yeah, the Burton Ions? Choice, bro. Yeah, so you gonna drive?"

I sighed. "Can't dude. Suspended?" I reminded him.

"Oh, riiight... Sorry, bro... Well can we take your car anyway? Alexis ran into a pole with mine last weekend." There was some yelling in the background, presumably one of his two older sisters, Alexis.

"Sure, dude."

"Sweeeeet. Hey, I gotta run. The family's going out to that Korean place for lunch."

"Cool, can you pick up a box of garlic chicken wings for Alejandra while you're there?" Our housekeeper was stopping by that day to water the plants. It was the least we could do for bothering during the holiday.

"Yeah, no prob. Catch ya later, bro."

"See ya."



EDIT: I'm a rockstar who gets tricks mixed up. Research was right, memory was wrong. It's fixed now. Please be gentle.