All Planned Out

Twelve (Charlotte)

We had been at the park for close to an hour, but I only had maybe twenty minutes of footage of her skating, and at least a quarter of that was when she went down into one of the bowls, or I think that is what she called them, and tried to do something that involved her rolling around at the bottom for a while before throwing herself up and into the air. I should probably spend another night watching some more videos of skateboarders that are not her so that I can learn something besides how amazing it is to watch her.

I did know, both from watching her and keeping an ear out while moving through the other groups, that this particular park had - besides the bowls and a few ramps and sets of stairs - volcanoes, pyramids, two half-pipes, multiple quarter pipes (both of which were obvious once I knew that was what they were called), and at least one thing that I think was called a Hubba or a Bubba or something like that. There was also a full, gigantic pipe at the far end of the park that looked to be more for aesthetics than something you should use for skating, but there is a part of me that can imagine someone trying to do a flip inside it and then soon after getting the VIP treatment at a local hospital.

They also only ever said 'rail' when they talked about anything that remotely looked like a handrail. I guess using less syllables is cooler or whatever. What am I saying? Whatever any of these people say is probably cooler than anything I'll ever say ever, ever, ever.

I had been waiting for the stares from people, not so much because I was chasing Montana around with a camera in my hands, but because no matter how normal I look when I see my own reflection, I definitely do not feel like I belong in a place like this and hanging out with a girl like the one sitting next to me and humming while she stares at the tiny screen on the back of her camera.

"Is...is everything okay?"

"Probably."

"Probably?" I wanted to fall into the grass and then roll all the way home. "What...what did I do wrong?"

"What? Oh! Oh, oh god, no. Geez, Charley." She dropped the camera into her lap and looked at me. The chocolate in her eyes almost appeared ready to melt. "It's fine. Everything's fine. I just need to look it all later on a bigger screen. That's all. Really."

"Really?"

"I was just, like, checking it over to make sure you got me in frame and that everything was zoomed good. Stuff like that. It looks good. It's just, uh, tiny. Hard to really focus on something so small."

Does that mean you can't focus on me...

"Okay, okay., that's...that's good then. I was just really worried I screwed up and I didn't want you to be upset that we came out here and you did all that and...and...and..." I was rambling.

"Blackburn! Hey! What's up!?" A girl's voice called from over my shoulder.

"What's the story, Glory?" Montana said without moving her head. "Keeping your head on straight?"

"No more than you are, apparently."

The table shook with some thumps as the owner of the voice climbed over it and fell down onto the bench in between us. It was only once she was sitting with her knees touching ours that I realized we had been joined by the one and only Gloria Marten. She was also in our grade and quite possibly the most stereotypical goth-looking person I had ever met in person.

"Apparently." Montana chuckled as I slid myself over to try to give Gloria space. "You come to skate or just window shop?"

"Skate, but I left my board at Amber's so I'm waiting for her to show up." She said. "Since when do you hang out with this one over here?" I saw her thumb point my way. I wanted to be offended but, well, she was right. Since when did we hang out together?