YOUNG ADULT: Skate
The blue, porcelain plate shattered as it hit the crème coloured wall. Harlan looked over his shoulder at the broken glass lying on the ground, which had just missed his head by a few inches. A look of shock was plainly written on his face as he averted his eyes up to the skinny blonde standing before him.
"Now get out," His step-mother Ashley hissed as she pointed her long, tan finger at towards the front door. Her chocolate brown eyes were narrowed as she glared at the sixteen year old boy she unfortunately had to call a step-son.
"Already gone," Reaching for the beat up skateboard, Harlan pulled open the large oak door before walking out. There was no doubt about it – his step-mother was a psycho. Not only was she in denial about her age, but she had now started throwing materialistic objects at her new step-son's head. And all of this was over a stupid job. Just because Harlan didn't want to get a job, she had to freak out. It wasn't like she had any room to talk. Ashley was the biggest gold digger he had ever seen. There was no question about her using his father for his money.
Ethan Keese was one of very few wealthy men left in Haven, Kansas. Being a workaholic paid off, because now he could afford anything his little heart desired. And apparently having a lot of money attracted blonde bimbos. But Ethan didn't seem to have a problem with Ashley using him for his money. Ever since his wife, Brianna had been killed in a car crash, Ethan had been alone. And it was as if he just couldn't take being alone any longer. So he married the first girl he could, and it just so happened that it was Ashley Smith.
Pushing his long blonde bangs out of his eyes, Harlan dropped the board to the ground and heard the familiar bang when the wheels hit the ground. Skateboarding was his escape – his reason to live. There was nothing else in this world more important than skateboarding. He lived, and breathed skateboarding.
Jumping up onto the black grip tape covered wood, Harlan let out a quick puff of breath before positioning his left leg on the ground. Pushing himself down the steep driveway, he turned out onto the sidewalk, passing a few joggers as he swerved past.
The skate park was dead, as it usually was at seven in the morning. This wasn't the first time Harlan had been kicked out of the house this early in the morning. Probably around the fourth time – but who's counting?
Skating over toward the long metal rail, Harlan bent his knees and jumped up. Sliding along, he extended his arms out to his side to maintain his balance. When he reached the end, he bent down to grab the side of the board as he jumped up, flying through the air until his wheels connected with the ground that leads into the bowl. As he was skating down the side of the wall his eyes connected with something – well more like someone – that was lying in the middle of the bowl. Right where he was headed.
Panicking, Harlan jumped off his board and landed on the cold hard ground with a thud. Suddenly, a shot of pain came from his wrist. Sitting up, he grabbed onto his wrist, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.
Beside him, his board rolled into the side of the girl lying on the ground. She was curled up into a tight ball, her bright yellow dress with its bold pink and blue patterns, pulled over her knees. Her bright, long curly red hair was pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head.
"What the hell are you doing down here?" Harlan asked through his clenched teeth. He gripped onto his left wrist as he pulled his knees up to his chin, before extending his long legs out in front of him. The girl stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Looking up at him from her position on the ground, she smiled slightly.
"Excuse me?" Her voice was girly, but unlike most girls he knew, it suited her.
"I said, what the hell are you doing down here? I think you just broke my wrist!" He gritted his teeth together, as his wrist throbbed. Looking down at it, there was nothing sticking out which was a good sign. But the pain shooting from his wrist every time he moved it was definitely a bad sign. Harlan had broken enough bones to know what it felt like to have it shatter.
She laughed, sitting up from her curled up ball. "I didn't break anything. It was you on the skateboard, not me."
His eyes narrowed, and he could feel the anger surging through his veins. "You're fucking lying in the middle of a bowl at a skate park!"
The girl crossed her legs yoga style, and rested her folded hands in her lap. She had a small smile on her face as she studied Harlan. "Well?"
"Well what?" He asked, shaking his long blonde bangs out of his eyes, only resulting in having them fall back into place.
"Is it broken?"
"How am I supposed to know?"
She chuckled. "It's your wrist isn't it?"
Harlan rolled his bright blue eyes. This girl was just too weird. Standing up from the ground, he stomped on the end of his skateboard which caused it to flip up into the grasp of his free hand. Placing his throbbing wrist against his stomach, Harlan looked up at the side of the bowl he would have to climb up. Cursing under his breath, he threw the board up onto the ground above him and watched until it rolled out of sight.
"I don't think that is the smartest thing to do," The curly red haired girl stated.
Harlan turned on his heel, looking down at her in disbelief. "Then what do you suppose I do? Fly up there?" He paused. "No wait I got it! I can close my eyes, and when I open them I will have magically been transported. Or how about this – I can use some weird voodoo magic and then –"
His sentence was cut off, as she interrupted him. "Why don't you just wait here and I'll go get someone?"
The girl stood up from the ground, and brushed off the backside of her dress. Only then did Harlan realize how short and delicate she actually was. There couldn't have been one ounce of extra fat anywhere on her body, and her limbs looked as if you were to squeeze too hard, her bones would shatter.
"I don't need anyone," He snarled, turning away from her and continuing to size up the wall in front of him. If he was to just jump, it wouldn't be that hard to get up. All though, using one hand might be a little tough. Though, it couldn't have been any worse than the little incident that happened with the sharp rail, and the camera.
Holding his wrist tight to his stomach, Harlan reached up with his right arm and gripped onto the tiny lip, holding onto it for dear life. Using his feet to push himself up he felt his white DC shoes slipping as he continuously tried to push himself up. Pressing his elbow onto the cement, Harlan felt a hard shove underneath his right foot and before he knew it he was lying on the cold ground above the bowl.
Right after, the red headed girl jumped up with ease and started making her way out of the skate park.
All he could do was stare. Stare after the odd girl, with the weird clothes and wild hair.
When the realization that his wrist was in some serious pain, Harlan jumped up and retrieved his skateboard before hopping on and pushing himself in the fastest direction of the local hospital. The whole ride there, surprisingly the only thing on his mind was the weird girl. Why in the world had she been sleeping in the bowl? Had she had a fight with her parents, or had she just been wasted the night before?
Finally reaching the hospital, he debated whether it would be a good idea to call Ashley back at home. Even though they had gotten into the little brawl only one or so hours ago, she could most likely want to know if her step-son was hurt. Right?
Harlan scoffed to himself as he passed the three payphones that hung up on the off white wall. Like she would care – she would probably be pissed that he was interrupting her daily massage.
Much to his surprise, the waiting room was empty. The last time Harlan had been in this exact waiting room, all of the brown plastic chairs had been occupied with crying kids, and whimpering adults. But now, all were empty except for one which was far off to the side. An older man with grey hair was sitting with his legs crossed, and his head in his palms.
"May I help you?" A cheery voice pulled Harlan out of his daydream. Averting his eyes to the smiling blonde behind the glass, he inched closer to the large mahogany desk.
"Uh, I think I broke my wrist," He stated, holding up his left wrist for her to see. He smirked inwardly as she flinched. Since he had left the skate park, his wrist had enlarged quite a bit, and now had to be the size of his ankle.
He nodded slightly. "Uh yah."
Placing his foot on his skateboard, Harlan moved it from side to side as he watched the girl click away on her keyboard. "Name?"
He placed his crossed arms on top of the small lip in front of the glass. The receptionist had a look of serious concentration, as her eyes scanned the computer screen. She continued reading the names as Harlan placed his right hand on top of his wrist, trying to take some of the pain away.
"Ah ha, found it. You can take a seat over there, and the doctor should be out to see you right away."
The waiting was always the hardest. Having to sit in the quiet little room while you were in some serious pain had to be the worse than the actual breaking of the bone. As the loud ticking from the clock thundered in his ears, Harlan continued to absentmindedly push his skateboard from side to side as he sat in the hard chair. Just when the thought of leaving came to mind, the doctor emerged from behind the white doors.
Standing to his feet, he picked up the skateboard and followed the older man behind the white doors, into a bright hallway that smelt of latex gloves and floor cleaner. Once inside the small room, Harlan jumped up onto the paper covered bed and held out his wrist for the doctor to examine.
After a few 'hmms' and 'mhms' he looked up into Harlan's bright blue eyes and removed his black plastic, rimmed glasses.
"Well, it's definitely broken," He explained, as he started to pull of his latex gloves.
"Great." Harlan sighed, and rolled his eyes upward. This would have never happened if that stupid girl hadn't been passed out in the bowl. And now he had to walk around with a stupid cast for the next six weeks.
Couldn't she have found a bench or something?
Watching Dr. Martin open up a small cupboard door, Harlan swung his legs out, knocking his sneaker covered heels against the bed. Deciding what color cast to get always bothered him. He had never been good at decision making, even ones as easy as choosing a color.
"Well son, I'm sorry to say but we only have one color left," The doctor stated, turning around to face Harlan. A small smile played on his lips as his body blocked the continents that the cupboard held.
He chuckled, and pulled out a roll of hot pink.
"Are you serious? I have to walk around with a hot pink cast for three weeks!"
"Six weeks actually."