111°

July 27th

June 27th, what a day. A few weeks into of summer. The heat rolls over the lush hills, slowly frying the grass into a dull beige. Summer hit a record high heat in my area that year, 111°. Perspiration, strangers rushing down the streets to avoid the blistering sidewalks. A highly noticeable lack of clothing, and an abundance of mile high ice-cream cones. June 27th started similarly to any other day of this summer, but little did I know this day would bring something new.

I hustled my way down Venice beach, weaving through crowds of people. The streets were lined with musicians, and artists. An epiphany of dads comforting crying infants, and mothers trying to cool themselves off while their children run around aimlessly. I felt like a professional dancer, making my way through the Hot dog stands and street vendors, as I tried very eloquently not to trip. My name is Ellory, Im 15 years old, 10th grade. Raised in Colorado, but recently moved to Venice, my dad says it was for work but I have developed a theory that it was secretly for the legalization of marajuana. Currently I am running down the boardwalk in Venice beach, with my board dangling on my arm, making my way to the skate park.

Slippery Sand scattered the sidewalks, considering I was so close to the beach. I started to pick up pace, until suddenly I felt the floor give out. Thud. Fuck, I thought, I could feel the stinging pains on my knees and elbows. The crowd that was so abundant before, had cleared its way due to my tragedy. Picking myself up, i trudged over to a curb to examine my wounds. Small scrapes down my hands and knees, nothing to worry about. I looked for the bottle of water inside my backpack, which used to be gloriously cold and perfect for this day, now sadly lukewarm from the blinding sun. Grabbing the disappointing excuse for a refreshing drink, I twisted off the cap and poured it all over my wounds.

"Hi" I heard a voice say, coming from what seems like behind me.

"Huh??" I asked shocked, looking back. I turned my body and accidentally splashed most of my water. Damnit.

"You Look rather injured, are you okay??" She asked. This girl had dark brown hair, and ginger eyebrows, obviously not coordinating. Her lipstick was a pale brown, but what really stood out was her bright yellow eyeshadow. "Noah, pleased to meet you." Her smile was glowing, soft and sweet, until this day she has the most genuine smile I've ever seen.

"Hello, yes I'm okay, but you scared me so badly you knocked the water out of my hand." I cracked a small laugh, she looked genuinely concerned. "Don't worry, it's fine. Im Ellory by the way" I examined her clothes, quite different from mine. Head to toe in main brand clothing, it fit her really well. She seemed very sweet, but you could tell by her bruised up legs she was definitely as clumsy as me. I introduced myself. I was wearing black shorts, worn down high tops , and an oversized flannel, I felt like I was giving off a good impression of who I am.

Noah was 17 years old, picture perfect facial features. She sat next to me and we talked for a while, offering me a cola out of her oversized backpack. She lived in her van, with her best friend Juliette, who she offered to introduce me too. Noah was going on about her life, and how she dropped out of highschool junior year so she could move out from her parents. Unlike her I still lived with my parents, both kind, yet negligent of my existence. Since I moved around a lot, i had stayed enrolled in online classes. Time was moving quickly, little did I notice. Hour upon hour, the minutes seemed like seconds flying by. The day wasted away, just me and her, sitting on the curb.

I felt a buzzing in my pocket, opening my phone to reveal 12 unread messages, all from Brendon, my childhood best friend. I called him, knowing for sure he would pick up, which he did. Brendon was a dorky type, on the outside he was pretty stereotypically handsome. Tan skin, gorgeous blue eyes with thick eyebrows and long eyelashes, silky slicked back brown hair, with artificial Carmel highlights. Towering over me at 6'4, somewhat looking like an awkward giant. He's a sweet boy, usually polite, but he slips up with the wrong words, at the wrong times.

"where the fuck are you" he yelled. It suddenly crossed my mind that I had to be at his house an hour ago, the 30 minute skate seemed impossible. The weather dulled down into a warm dry temperature, and the sunset was buzzing with mosquitoes.

"I'm sorry i lost track of time" I told him. You could hear his prolonged sigh from the phone. I was hyped to get to tell him all about my new friend, and how perfect she was.

"Unacceptable behavior" he squeaked in the phone.

"I'm sorry I'll start making my way over now, I'm at Venice" Another extended sigh, and the beeping from him hanging up the phone. "Hey Noah, it was nice meeting you, but I was supposed to be at my friends over an hour ago"

"I can drive you there if you want" she offered. Her voice was deep but soft, comforting. I tried to decline her offer, but she insisted. Heading off to her van we kept our conversation going, this time bringing up friends. My friend group basically consisted of Brendon. Though he was surrounded by an auora of popularity, we still stuck together. Since the third grade we were like peas In a pod, difficult to be separated. I've been asked many times why I don't want a relationship with Brendon. Thinking about us in a relationship seems very strange to me, considering for so many years I've thought of him as a brother.

"This is it" Noah remarked. Pointing to a beat up Volkswagen van, "Juliette did all the artsy stuff, like the painting and decorating, she's working atthe moment but you can meet her next time" Next time. She wanted there to be a next time. A joyous spark rose in my chest, rather happy I had been accepted by someone so amazing. The van was delicately painted, each little brush stroke was perfectly placed. Beat up and dented, yet so unique and beautiful. The inside was painted with chalkboard paint, there was Also a black velvet wheel and black velvet seats. You could tell it was handmade just by looking at it, but it was so nicely done.