Here we go again! :) New year, new story? I think yes! This story is going to be extremely fun for me to write. I get to make a lot of things up, but I get to use a ton of real stuff as well. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with the nice long chapters that everybody likes. Anyways, I'd best not keep you from reading the actual story any longer, so here you are!
~Britt
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I slapped the tail of my skateboard with my right foot, sliding my other foot to the nose of my board to bring it into an Ollie. My long, straight brown hair whipped my face as I sailed through the warm, summer air. I clamped my black knit beanie tighter on my head so that it wouldn't blow away.
Coming back to the ground with a thud, I rolled to a stop next to my battered, old, army green backpack which was adorned with various pins ranging from 'Totally Rad' to 'If Life Gives You Lemons, Throw Them At Someone,' to 'You've Got a Friend in Me.'
I picked up my skateboard and set it against the weathered, old bench, which I'm pretty sure has been there since the beginning of time.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my dry mouth as I scavenged for my water bottle inside my bag. I finally found the dented, metal container, and hastily unscrewed the top. I tipped it up towards the sky, drinking the cool, refreshing water in big gulps, some of it escaping my lips and dribbling down my chin. Once I was quenched, I screwed the cap back on and threw it back into my backpack.
"Nice skating today, Miss." said an aging, old man wearing a black, tailored suit. He walked over to me and held out a little card with tiny black print on it. I eyed it curiously, one eyebrow raised.
"Who are you, and why are you at a skate park dressed in a monkey suit?" I asked with disdain, eyeing his balding, grey hair and spiffy, black-framed glasses. He shrugged off my offensive comment about his choice of dress, as if everything would make sense in a moment.
"My name," he paused for affect, "is Herald Benson Jr. and I work as a talent scout. How'd you like to become famous?" he said coolly, offering the card again. I took it and checked it over, a look of anxiety suddenly overtaking my face.
"I can't." I sighed, noting the starting price listed on the small card. Herald Benson Jr. scowled.
"And why not? All you would have to do is pay a small fee of one thousand dollars to get you started." he huffed, as if the world was made of money and I could easily just pull some off of a tree.
"Don't have the money, or the time, for that matter," I explained, zipping up my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder.
"I'm sure we could work something out with your parents, Miss," the man drawled. I set my skateboard back down on the pavement and made to leave, but Herald Benson Jr. grabbed my arm tightly with his spindly, old fingers.
"Listen, dude, I'm not interested!" I yelled, wrenching my arm from his grip and pushing off with my left foot. "And I've only got one parent!" I yelled over my shoulder.
"You've got talent girl! You could make millions!" he shouted as I rolled away. "You'll regret this!"
I snorted with laughter. 'How cliche was that? Of course I'd regret it. What teenager in their right mind doesn't want to be famous? I just happen to have priorities. What would my mother do with out me?' I thought as I made my way home, skating along the old, cracked sidewalk.
I was so deep in thought, that I didn't notice the gaping crack in the sidewalk. My front wheels caught on the edge and I was lurched forward, off of my board, and into the arms of a stranger.
