Military Brats (in progress)

Numero Uno Padre

The sun abruptly woke me up at 8:27 the next morning, which taught me that, unlike Germany,  Spain has constant sunlight. Which is good if you like the beach, and bad if you burn easily. Sadly I hate the beach and burn easier than Dracula in the Sahara Desert. I smell a freshly brewed pot of Cuban coffee as I pull a shirt over my bed head disaster and leave my room, feeling the cold of the tile in my bare feet.

"Morning champ," my dad greets bright eyed, sitting at the kitchen table with the base newspaper in his hands. His hair is almost as messy as mine, almost, and he has on the shirt a have him when I was three that says "worlds best dad."  He likes to wear this shirt as much as possible.

"Finalist," I correct as I go to pour myself a bowl of Lucky Charms and a cafè con lechè. My standard cup is eighty percent coffee, twenty percent milk, and an ungodly amount of sugar. I need to make sure I'm completely buzzed in order to get through the school day. Despite the fact that it's summer, I still need to keep my high or I'll crash. I have a serious problem.

Upon finishing breakfast, I get dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt and head out with my longboard in my hand to go check out the youth center. My board was a gift from the only friend I've ever kept in touch with throughout my countless moves. Victor "Bird" Dixie has been my best friend for upwards of ten years now. Even though he has a normal first name he goes by Bird due to the infatuation he had at a young age with all breeds of air bound animals.

I set out doing a trick here and there, most of which I bail out on, and make it to the front of the graffiti littered youth center. My longboard is left leaning against the red brick wall out front as I walk in taking in the new environment.

The walls are painted a sky blue on the bottom and a cream yellow above. In the far right corner is a music section with 2/5 working guitars and an electric drum set. In the middle of the room are two pool tables and a ping pong table. I do a mental fistpump and think of all the asses I'm going to kick. Right next to the check-in desk by the door is a large tv with what looks like a wii and an Xbox. Not my cup of tea but I'll play a game occasionally. At the back of the room is a door that leads out to the basketball court and the skate park.

Overall this youth center is pretty good. The teen side is even separated from the little kid side by a kitchen and snack bar. After giving the place a quick once over I walk up to the check-in desk and tell the worker that I'm new.

"Oh! In that case welcome to Spain!" She's a middle aged women with a big smile. Nice, but a little too friendly for my taste. "All you need to do is have these forms filled out and you're good to go. You can hang out here today though for now."

I take the forms from her and fold them up, putting them in my back pocket. "Thanks, I'll get these back as soon as I can." I walk over to the first pool table and grab a pool stick.

"You betcha!" I roll my eyes and rack up the solid and stripped balls to get in a game of solo pool. The building is pretty empty considering that it's summer. Only a few stragglers who have already gone on vacation are hanging out to use the WiFi.

I sink the 8-ball, signifying the end of my game and put my pool stick away. The check-in desk lady waves as I walk out and I smile and and return the wave. My board is still leaning against the wall, as expected, and I begin the ride back to our temp-house attempting, and still failing, several tricks.