Distraction. They're distracting you. It's distracting you. The sound of the skateboard rolling against the concrete is distracting you while you tried to study in a excluded location behind the school.
Now they were yelling and whooping with excitement. You move your books to the side and turn the corner to find a group of guys, ones you knew. The Santos gang.
"Yo!" Each and every one of their attention turns to you, "can you keep it down? I'm trying to study."
"Then go to the library, sweetheart," you knew him. He had been in all your classes since elementary school. Cesar Diaz.
"How about you go to the skate park, sweetheart," you mock.