Sea of Stars

2/3

* Jess *

The soft hiss of the board's wheels sweeping against the coarse surface of the asphalt plays in my ears as I cruise the street in my signature black Thrasher hoodie. The wood rattles and creaks as I jump into the air, and the sound of metallic grinding is prominent when I make a smooth landing, speeding like a flash of lightning. These sounds are more familiar to me than my own house.

I avoid my house as much as possible, so whenever I can't stay at a friend's house, I skate. It's my best way to escape the horrors at home. Neither of my parents ever seem to notice I'm gone because they are too busy shouting at each other, and they cannot afford a divorce. I would rather sleep on a bench outside in the cold with my skateboard as a pillow than be deprived of sleep, due to screaming and clashing glass. I've lived like this for four years, since the commotion started, so I've gotten very talented at skating. Therefore, whenever I skate with my friends, they call me a "certified legend, bro." I don't tell them what occurs in my home life because they would not understand, as they only comprehend ollies and the term "gnarly." Sometimes I wish my friends were smarter, but these are the only guys that I know how to talk to, since I grew up with only my skateboard as a friend. Don't get me wrong, I love the friends I have, but sometimes I have trouble communicating with them the way I would like.

I turn onto the remote "Old Vine Road," as has been my routine for the past five weeks. I had never taken this road before then because it is rather rough with many potholes in it, making it an unfit location for skating. The night I changed my route, there was construction on the road I usually took. I was attempting to avoid the potholes when I heard a girl's alto voice singing about the stars. I looked around to see that the sound was coming from the cemetery and saw her there. The blonde-haired, freckled girl with thin-rimmed, gold glasses was writing in a notebook and humming to herself. It seemed an odd location for her to be writing a song, yet I found myself amused and sat down at the nearby bench to listen. The lyrics of the song seemed lonely and sad. They were almost hypnotic, so I skated around the street for a while.

Now, I take this route daily and always find the girl deciding the lyrics for her songs. I can tell her vocabulary is huge through her songs, and she seems really smart. I have never seen her at school, so she must go somewhere else, but there aren't many schools in this small town. She is a very strange, arcane girl, unlike the others at school, which is mainly why I find her so mesmerizing. I have not told any of my friends about my midnight trips to the graveyard because I know they would want to join me and make a laughingstock out of her, since she sits in the graveyard every night. I find comfort in seeing this mysterious girl because she seems lost, like me. It seems as though she also has problems and escapes from them at night. I would like to speak to her, but I do not want to ruin what seems like her sacred space. I understand that she may not want a stranger to intrude upon her only leisure time.

However, what if she is lonely? What if she would want someone to befriend her? Maybe that is why she hangs out in a graveyard: because she has lost a loved one and they are the only company she has left. I notice that she always sits next to the same headstone, so there must be a reason.

I skate to the nearby bench and peek around the bushes. The familiar girl is looking at the sky, what seems to be stargazing. "You can do this," I tell myself. I start to make my way toward her. I come close enough to see the words on the tombstone she lies next to read "Indigo: 1976-1992." I step on a stick which snaps, and I freeze. The girl has just noticed me walking toward her, and I do not know what to say. I don't know why I feel awkward about talking to a random girl, but I do not want to ruin any chance I have at building a new friendship. I pretend to walk to another gravestone and sit down. This is the closest I have come to making a new friend, and I am proud of myself.