Rebel Girl

Rebel Girl

Content Warning: This work has themes of illness, grief, loss, and domestic dispute. If any of these things are triggering to you, please, please read the tag at the very end of the story. It goes into more detail about what this story covers. Some spoilers, but it's better to be informed.

Author's Note: This is my first real attempt at a full work that wasn't a short story. This is a coming of age story about self discovery and the love between a small town conservative Christian girl and a rebel skater girl. All characters are 18+ high school seniors. Just a warning, and to save people some time, this story is purely romance and not an erotic romance. If you're looking for wank material I'm sorry to say this piece is severely lacking. Also, this piece is entirely fictional, any place names or events that resemble real life are purely by coincidence. That being said, I really hope you enjoy it!

Intro.

My name is Ellie Blackman. What I'm about to tell you isn't a fairytale or a Disney romance where the girl rides off into the sunset with her Prince Charming. It's messy. It's complicated. It's not a lighthearted story where everyone lives happily ever after.

This story is different. It's about a girl who left an imprint on my heart so deep it could never be erased by time. She was wild and fearless and free. She was everything I wished I could be.

If you're still here, it can only mean that you are ready to hear the tale of how a girl forever changed the course of my life and opened my eyes to a world I never thought possible.

Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Part 1.

I remember the exact day I met her. It was Friday, September 7, 2007. I was a senior at Lake Vista High School in Dallas, Texas. The sky was overcast. Clouds blocked out the faint sun and a light drizzle colored the windows. I was sitting near the front of the packed 942 school bus on my way home after a long day of classes.

My parents had moved here from Marathon after my Dad, an oil worker, received a higher paid role as a safety compliance officer at the Pioneer Natural Resources headquarters. This had completely upended my life and left me separated from my best and only friend Maggie Thompson. Despite throwing several tantrums and one priceless family vase- that ended with a belting I'll never forget- I found myself shipped off to the 'big city'. Having lived in a town of less than five hundred and homeschooled my entire life, attending a school filled with over two thousand hormone filled teens seemed like quite a daunting endeavor.

I was an outcast right from the start. My family was the ultra-conservative, attend church every Sunday, pray away the gay, kind of family. To top things off, I was dorky, never wore makeup, still had my braces despite being eighteen, and had a curfew and no phone. Oh, and my entire wardrobe was filled with the most modest of clothing. God forbid I wear anything other than a knee length skirt and a cardigan. Needless to say, I had no friends.

Having loaded up all the students, our bus driver, Melissa or Melinda- whatever her name was, a stout lady in her mid forties with pipes that would make a drill sergeant proud, closed the doors and started the bus. The wheels had just begun to turn when there came a pounding at the door. Bang! Bang! Bang!

Uttering a few choice curse words under her breath, our bus driver stopped the bus and threw open the doors. "Don't bang on them doors missy! You keep it up and it'll be a detention."

A golden haired girl with dyed red streaks and dark eyeliner hopped onto the bus. "Sorry Ms. Mills, I wasn't sure you'd hear me." She said, chewing the gum in her mouth slowly.

Ms. Mills pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deeply. "Just get to your seat Kylie."

Kylie nodded and turned to head down the aisle, carrying a weathered skateboard. I stared at her openly.

She wore a beanie, black jacket, white top, and ripped black bell bottom jeans. She had a black choker around her neck and little skull earrings that dangled from her ears. She was exactly the type of girl my parents and Reverend White had warned me about. A troublemaker.

She caught me staring and her eyes narrowed. I glanced away immediately, averting my gaze. I looked out the window hoping she'd pass me by. The last thing I needed was to be associated with a rebel. From the corner of my eye I saw she had come to a stop by my seat. I looked up.

"Move." she said, looking at my bag and giving a jerk of her head.

I grabbed my backpack, put it on the floor by my feet, and scooted by the window.

Kylie sat down next to me, propping a leg up against the back of the seat in front, and taking out her iPod. She slid her skateboard under the seat before giving me a onceover. Seemingly unimpressed by my modest attire, her eyes briefly lingered on the silver cross that hung about my neck. She blew her bangs upwards and groaned. "Great. Stuck with Little Miss Sunday School."

My cheeks flushed and I stiffened in the seat. "You didn't have to sit here."

She made a show of looking around the packed bus. "Yea? And where else would I sit."

"I don't know, maybe on your broomstick?" I said, my teeth clenched.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Looking amused and a little impressed, she gave a small chuckle. "Dang, church girl's got some fire."

I hid a small smile and turned back to the rain-streaked window.

Putting her earbuds in, Kylie unzipped her bag and pulled out a battered looking notebook. She flipped it open and began to draw, her pencil making swift confident strokes across the paper. She stuck her tongue out to the side in concentration as she drew. Unable to help myself, I snuck a peek at her work. Her drawing was a detailed sketch of herself riding the back of a winged beast spitting fire across the sky. She clearly had talent.

"It's nice." I said.

She gave a noncommittal grunt and shrugged, not looking up from her drawing. "I like dragons."

"It's a wyvern." I said eagerly, leaning over to study her sketch more closely.

"What?"

"A dragon has four legs and a wyvern has two."

She stared at me, clearly annoyed.

Me and my big mouth. "It's just, my best friend loved to draw them too and she'd go on and on about the differences between-"

"Yeah? Is she a nosy bitch too?"

My voice caught in my throat and I looked down at my feet, hugging myself. "No." I said quietly. "She... she's really nice."

She noticed the sudden change in my voice and looked up. Her expression softened. "Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean... I just don't like people looking at my drawings. She doesn't go here?"

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. The silence was thick. I glanced back out the window fighting the lump in my throat. I felt a small tap on my shoulder and looked over. She was holding out one of her earbuds.

"Wanna listen?"

"I-" I hesitated, unsure what to say.

"What's the matter, church girl? Only listen to gospel music?" she asked, her lip curling up in a half smile.

Slowly, I took the earbud and placed it in my ear. I felt it before I heard it. The opening chords were so full of energy, so filled with an unapologetic drive to be free. The beats came in fast, fierce, and dripping with defiance. I had never heard anything like it before. To a girl who had grown up in a small conservative town and only really listened to Christian rock and the occasional mainstream pop song, the music came as a cultural shock. When the electric guitar came in, coupled with the singer's raspy voice, it felt like my eyes were opened for the first time. To me it wasn't just a song. It was... freedom.

I glanced at Kylie. She was grinning. She could tell I understood. This was the moment that would change my life forever.

"Yeah?" she said, her eyes glinting. I bit my lip and smiled back, my head bouncing to the beats.

"What is it?" I asked in wonder.

"Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill." she said, her skull earrings swinging from side to side as she closed her eyes, head banging the solo, her fingers shredding an imaginary electric guitar.

The songs she listened to were a mix of heavy metal, rock, and punk. Aerosmith, Beastie Boys, Bikini Kill, Joan Jett, and Lynyrd Skynyrd just to name a few. Not that I recognized any of them at the time. All I knew was, it was the greatest thing I'd ever heard. We shared her iPod until the bus pulled up to her stop. Kylie lived in a neighborhood where duplexes lined the street, their front yards framed by rusted chain-link fences. The paint on the porches was peeling, and a few old cars sat in the driveways.

"This is me." she said, grabbing the skateboard beneath her seat and putting her notebook back in her bag. I handed her earbud back. She pocketed her iPod and gave me a sly smile. "You're alright church girl."

"Ellie. Ellie Blackman."

"Kylie Bennet." she said, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "See ya around, Ellie."

She carried her board in the crook of her right arm and squeezed through the crowded aisle. As soon as she had gotten off the bus, she hopped on her board, coasting down the sidewalk.

The bus started moving again and we soon passed Kylie. I watched her until we had reached the intersection and turned the corner, where she disappeared from view. Though the clouds still remained and the drizzle continued to fall, it felt as though everything had become just a little brighter.

Part 2.

When I got back to my house it was almost 5 and my mother was chopping onions in the kitchen preparing a chicken casserole for dinner. She looked up as I entered, putting the knife down and wiping her hands on a towel. "How was school honey?" she asked casually. She had been asking me this everyday since school started. Probably concerned that I wasn't adjusting.

"It was good. I met someone."

"Oh?" she asked nonchalantly, trying not to sound too curious. "A friend?"

"I think so." I said, dropping my backpack next to the couch.

"That's good," said my mother, a relieved smile slowly spreading across her face. She came around the counter and placed her arm around me. "I knew you'd find someone."

"Thanks Mom." I said feeling a bit awkward.

"Is your friend a girl or a boy?" She asked with a bit of a grin.

"A girl, Mom..."

"Maybe you could invite her over sometime for a playdate?" She said eagerly.

"Mom... I'm not twelve. Besides, I wouldn't want to scare her off." Not that I thought that my home life would ever scare off someone like Kylie. Bore her maybe. If anything it'd be the other way around. I briefly imagined the horrified look on my mother's face if she knew what Kylie really looked like. I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing.

"By the way, your Aunt Daphne called. She's coming to visit this weekend."

"Yes!!"

I brightened at the sound of that. I always loved having Aunt Daphne around, although my dad certainly didn't approve. She was a free spirit. She was unmarried and had never settled down- preferring to travel and explore the world. And worst of all, at least in my dad's eyes, she didn't attend church. "She's turned her back on God" or "She's filling Ellie's head with dangerous ideas" were just some of the things my father would say to my mother when he thought I was out of earshot. I, on the other hand, loved to hear her stories. Having seen so much of the world, she had so much to tell. Her experiences marching for women's rights, anti-war rallies, and her protests against corporate drilling were all fascinating to me. I would sit there, starry-eyed, as she filled me with tales of her daring escapades. One of my favorite of hers was the time she had chained herself to a beloved redwood to stop logging companies from cutting it down.

"That tree had been standing there for over a thousand years, Ellie. Can you imagine? It was there before Columbus even set foot in America and they wanted to chop it down for a few planks." She had said, shaking her head.

I was only seven when she told me that story.

"I must've been up there for almost a week living off of granola bars. They cut down a few of the trees around us to try and scare us and they blocked a lot of our supplies from reaching us. Even the local cops showed up."

I had sat at her feet, wide eyed, engrossed in the story. "Were you scared, Aunt Daphne?"

"Oh, absolutely! But sometimes Ellie, you gotta stand up for what you believe in, even if it frightens you."

"And then what happened?" I had asked eagerly.

"Eventually the media got ahold of the story. Then the lawyers showed. After that, the logging company gave up. It wasn't worth all the bad press and the court fees. Just goes to show that you just gotta stick with your guns Ellie."

She was a breath of fresh air in the house I had grown up in. Someone I looked up to. Someone who wasn't afraid to be herself. Someone who allowed me to not feel suffocated by the constraints placed on me.

I grabbed my backpack and headed up to my room, excited. When Aunt Daphne came over, I wanted to show her all the songs that Kylie had shared with me. I knew she'd find them a hoot. I hopped on the family computer and began searching for all the songs I had heard.

That night was business as usual. My dad led us through grace and during dinner, my mom anxiously mentioned the news of Aunt Daphne's visit. My dad's lips tightened at this, and though he didn't say anything it was clear how he felt about my mom's sister. Not that his distaste for my aunt was a secret. The news that I had finally made a friend however, seemed to lighten the tension.

"Is this friend a girl?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes, Dad. She's a girl." I said, exasperated.

He gave me a stern look but decided to let it slide. Apparently, his concern that I wasn't fitting in overrode his need to correct my tone- just this once. His relief that I wasn't secretly seeing a boy also seemed to play a role.

"I'm glad you made a friend, Ellie. However, it's important to remember that while friends can lift you up they can just as easily drag you down. The company you keep is crucial to ensuring you stay on the right path." He said, gazing at me intently. I wondered if he was talking about Aunt Daphne's coming visit.

"Yes sir." I said, trying to put some sincerity into my tone.

He nodded again, looking appeased.

Afterwards we held our usual Friday night Bible study, but my mind was elsewhere. My thoughts had drifted to raspy voices, the whine of electric guitars, and the banging of metal drums.

Part 3.

Aunt Daphne's arrival was marked by the sound of an old Volkswagen bus puttering along on the street outside- sounding like an engine on its last legs. She hopped out of the sliding doors and waved at the bus before walking up our driveway.

I raced down the stairs to greet her at the front door. My father gave a disgruntled snort at my enthusiasm but he didn't say anything. Before the doorbell even rang, I flung open the door.

"Ellie-bellie!" she called, throwing out her arms. I wrapped her up in a bone crushing hug. She was wearing a flowing patchwork skirt and her hair was done up in a red bandanna. She smelled amazing- faintly of lavender and incense- or as my father would call it, "hippie smell".

"My, you've gotten tall," she said, holding me at arm's length. We were now around the same height.

My mom came to the door as well, smiling. "It's good to see you again Daph."

I stepped aside so they could embrace.

"You too, Jenny."

My father cleared his throat from the sofa. He had not gotten up.

"Daphne." He said, giving her a curt nod.

"Jim." She replied with a smile. She was used to his coolness. Unlike me though, she had never been intimidated by it. "I see you're still chipper as always."

I hid a grin as I tried to imagine my father ever being chipper. Even my mother had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide a small smile.

My father, on the other hand, was not amused.

"So, what is it you do for work these days?" he asked pointedly. He seemed determined to prove what "real responsibility" looked like. "Still running around with those hoodlums all day or have you found something a little more grounded?"

My mother stood off to the side wringing her hands nervously, eyeing the two of them. Aunt Daphne seemed unphased and met his gaze unflinchingly. "I give talks on sustainable activism and grassroots organizing. Sometimes I teach a workshop on environmental justice. Oil's a big topic."

My mother swallowed nervously and looked at my father.

His jaw tightened. "Must be nice not having to worry about stability or raising a family."

The tension was thick but Aunt Daphne merely smiled sweetly, "Must be. But for now, I mainly focus on not worrying about regret."

My mother cleared her throat and offered to help Aunt Daphne with her bags and I quickly followed suit. But inside I was buzzing. Like someone had finally opened a window and let in some fresh air.

Part 4.

Aunt Daphne laughed as she listened to the songs Kylie had shown me. We sat in front of the home computer watching YouTube music videos. She nodded along to the music, closing her eyes, and letting the beats flow around her. I watched her reaction eagerly.

"Ah, this takes me back." She said as Freebird came to a close. "You know your mother and I once snuck out to see Lynyrd Skynyrd in Dallas back in the day."

"No... my mom?" I said in disbelief. Aunt Daphne, I could believe, but my mother? She was such a goody two shoes. I couldn't imagine her ever stepping a toe out of line, let alone sneaking out to attend a rock concert.

"Oh yeah. Don't let that timid housewife act fool you. Back in our day, your mother was quite a rascal." Aunt Daphne grinned. "We were at a youth retreat near where they happened to be playing. We snuck out of the motel, traded our church clothes for leather jackets, and hitched a ride with some older girls with fake IDs."

She leaned back in her chair and smiled wistfully. "When your grandpa found out, we had the hiding of our lives. It was worth it though."

"Wow..." I breathed out. My respect for my mom had grown.

Aunt Daphne sighed. "But Jenny found your father and they settled down." She paused then continued with a wry smile. "Jim's a good man, but my God, he's stiff as a board. I've met drill sergeants more relaxed than him."

Rebel Girl started to play and Aunt Daphne smiled. "Now this is a jam." She took a piece of paper, grabbed a pen from a cupholder, and jotted down the name of the song as well as a few others she liked.

I watched her, ecstatic that Aunt Daphne had liked the songs as well.

"And who did you say showed you these songs?"

I told her all about Kylie, describing her in detail, her punk attitude and her dyed hair- right down to the skull earrings and skateboard.

Her smile widened as she listened.

When I told her of how Kylie had stopped the bus Aunt Daphne threw her head back and let out another laugh. "She sounds like a real pistol. Kind of reminds me of myself at that age. I think I would've liked her."

The song ended.

Aunt Daphne glanced over at me. I sat there with a dopey expression on my face. "You know, this song reminds me of you."

"Me?" I said, shocked. I was a rule follower, through and through.

"Yup." She reached over to pinch my cheek affectionately. "You might not realize it now but you've got fire in you kiddo. You've got your mother's spunk. You're a rebel too; you just need someone like Kylie to bring it out of you, like your mother had me."

I felt warm inside at her words.

Saturday came and went too fast. On Sunday, the VW bus came trundling up the street once more. I was sad to see her go.

Before she left, she gave me a tight hug and one last piece of advice.

"If anyone ever tells you to pick between being sweet and being strong... don't. Be both."

She hopped on the bus and waved us goodbye.

Part 5.

Monday morning, I sat in my usual seat on the bus. I hoped Kylie would sit next to me again. When we pulled up to her stop, I watched nervously as she climbed up the steps. I gave her a small timid wave. She nodded at me and made her way over to my seat.

"Sup."

"Hey." I replied, as she sat down, swinging her backpack off her shoulder and pushing it and her skateboard under the seat.

The doors slid shut and the bus began to move with a hiss.

"How was your weekend?" I asked tentatively.

She shrugged. "It was alright."

Apparently she was not big on small talk, which was fine with me. We settled into a comfortable silence. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pack of gum, offering me a piece. I took it, popping the orange stick in my mouth and chewing. Kylie took out her notebook again and began sketching. I pretended to be looking out the window but I continued to watch her from the corner of my eye. As the bus rattled along, people talked and laughed, and one kid even threw a crumpled paper across the bus that landed near Kylie but she didn't look up. She was off in her own little world.

When we neared the school, she silently put away her notebook and picked up her backpack. We got off the bus.

"See ya later."

"See you."

We split up in the surging tide of students and headed to our classes.

World History with Mr. Gustav seemed to drag on forever as he droned on and on about World War I and its impact on different countries. Statistics was no better. We covered conditional probabilities and Bayes Theorem until it was finally lunch. When I reached the cafeteria, I looked for Kylie hoping she had the same lunch but she was nowhere to be found. I sighed and, as usual, proceeded to sit at a table by myself to eat.

When the lunch bell rang, I headed to my locker to drop off my lunch bag and grab my binder for Biology. As I closed my locker I heard a familiar sneer from behind me.

"Oh my God. Is that the same sweater you wore last week? Or do you just have multiple copies of the same outfit in your closet?"

I blushed and looked behind me. Lexi Stein, Lake Vista's resident diva, and her posse of sycophants stood there, eyeing me with smirks on their faces. If Regina had the Plastics then Lexi had the Glossies. A bit trashier, a bit cheaper, and every bit as fake. I turned back to close my locker with trembling hands, hoping that if I just ignored them they'd disappear. It never worked.

Grace Miller, Lexi's ever loyal lapdog, laughed. "Look at her shoes. I think my Grandma's been missing a pair. I guess now we know where they went."

Lexi's smirk widened maliciously as her followers laughed. I felt the heat rising in my face- the tears welling in my eyes. I turned to leave, head down, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

"What's the matter Sister Ellie? Did you pray the fashion away too?" She called after me. Her friends guffawed harder.

"Yeah. I guess it worked." A familiar voice came floating down the hall. I looked up to see Kylie approaching us. "That's why you're all still here."

My eyes widened and I watched her in awe as she strode leisurely up the hallway, her jacket slung over her shoulder, as though she hadn't a care in the world. She looked so confident in herself-so sure. She came to a stop directly in front of Lexi, whose eyes narrowed. Her posse had stopped laughing.

Kylie looked Lexi's outfit up and down deliberately, disdainfully. Her eyes traveled up from her platform flip-flops and red low rise plaid mini-skirt to her pink tightly cropped polo. "Which fit was this one? Barbie: The Slut Edition?"

Following all the commotion, a crowd had begun to form and a few oohs were heard up and down the hallway. Disbelief colored Lexi's face as she glared at Kylie, taking in her punk rock look. "Ugh, no one asked you Hot Topic. What are y'all supposed to be? Church Girl and the Anti-Christ?"

"Yes. We're holding a vigil for your fashion sense after school today if you want to join us."

I could scarcely believe the words that had come from my own mouth. People stared in shock at me like they'd just seen a pig fly. Before that day, I had rarely spoken much to anyone and kept mainly to myself. Now here I was trading barbs with the queen bee. It may not have been the snappiest of retorts but I guess the shock of it coming from the quiet and dorky weird girl, coupled with the thrill of seeing Lexi taken down a peg or two, made a few people laugh. Lexi looked shocked at my audacity but Kylie just grinned and slapped fives with me.

"Zingg. Church girl 1, Barbie Slut 0." She said with a laugh, nodding with approval. Then she turned and flipped Lexi the double bird. "Catch ya later, bitches. We got places to go, vigils to hold." Then, still laughing, she put her arm around my shoulders and led me down the hall, leaving Lexi's enraged face and her posse behind. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursed through my veins, but on my face was a wide grin. I'd done it. I'd finally stood up to Lexi Stein.

Kylie walked with me to my Biology class.

"See you on the bus." She said as we came to a stop outside the door. I grinned and nodded, watching as she turned and gave me a small wave as she walked off.

Part 6.

We met up again on the bus, sitting at our usual spot near the front. She turned and gave me an impressed look.

"You know, you're not what I expected." She said appraisingly. "Man, what I'd give to see her face again," she chortled, making an exaggerated face of disgust and scrunching up her face in a perfect imitation of Lexi. We both collapsed in a fit of giggles.

We spent the rest of the bus ride talking animatedly about the Glossies, sharing our mutual distaste of math and history, and chatting about whatever came to mind. Apparently, the incident with Lexi had really opened Kylie up. I myself was giddy with excitement. Not just because I had finally stood up for myself but also because it felt I had finally made a true friend. Someone who would always have my back. When we arrived at her stop, it felt like it had taken no time at all.

Kylie jerked her head at me. "Come on. I gotta show you something."

My eyes widened and I looked out the window. "But, I don't have a ride back."

"Come on." She repeated. "It can't be that far from your house. Besides, I'll walk with you. Trust me, you'll want to see this."

Grabbing my bag, I followed her off the bus.

We stood on the sidewalk, next to the rusted chain link fence, as the bus drove off down the street.

"This way." She said with another jerk of her head. We made our way down the street for a few blocks until a skatepark came into view. The sound of wheels against concrete filled the air as we approached. Kylie grinned at me.

"This is where we hang after school." She said heading over to a table.

"We?"

At the table was a girl with chin-length blonde hair wearing a helmet and rollerskates. Next to her, a guy with curly brown hair was slouched over, a skateboard lying wheels-up on the bench next to him. They both looked up and greeted Kylie before turning to look at me curiously.

"This is Ellie, the girl I told you about last weekend." Said Kylie pointing a thumb at me. She glanced over at me. "That's Cindy and that's Dustin." She said pointing at each of them in turn.

Cindy smiled at me and gave me a small wave. Dustin grinned and reached over to dap me up. I returned it awkwardly.

"Right on," drawled Dustin, sitting back down lazily. "You ride?"

I shook my head.

Kylie grinned and put her arm around me again.

"This girl told Lexi Stain that we'd hold a vigil for her fashion sense."

Cindy's eyes widened, looking impressed and Dustin nodded appreciatively. I blushed and felt just the smallest tingle of pride growing in my chest. Kylie was laughing. "Man, you guys should've seen her face. She repeated her whole imitation of Lexi's face- with some added embellishments for good measure. We all had a riot at her antics and we each spent the next few minutes giving our own impressions of each of the Glossies.

When the laughter had died down, Kylie and Dustin grabbed their boards and headed to the ramps. Cindy and I sat at the lip to watch them, our feet dangling over the edge. They were both skilled but Kylie was a natural. The wind blew her hair back to behind her, rippling in a red and gold wave. She wove around the other skaters with ease, effortlessly doing flips and kicks with her board. She had a hungry smile on her face. How I wished I could be like her. She clearly lived her life to the fullest. Cindy smiled as she followed my gaze.

"Beautiful, isn't she."

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle. She truly was. She was prettier than any of the Glossies by far. Her face was flushed and tinged pink with exertion. Her hair caught the light of the setting sun, the red and gold strands glinting as she streaked around the concrete bowl. Her eyes were large and almond shaped- filled with mischief and daring. It was something that the Glossies- with their perfect makeup and fake sneers- could never hope to replicate.

Kylie caught me looking at her and she made her way towards me. She pulled her board to a graceful stop at the top of the lip and hopped off.

"That was amazing." I said clapping.

She snorted, but her cheeks turned a little pink- clearly pleased at my cheering. "It was nothing."

She pointed at Cindy. "Don't let those innocent baby blue eyes fool you. Cindy's a demon on those roller skates."

I looked at Cindy who gave me a sly grin. "I may know a thing or two."

Dustin pulled up beside us. "Cindy about to show us all up again?" He asked, his eyes gleaming in excitement.

Kylie nodded. "Go on. Show her."

Cindy stood up, brushed off her shorts, and tightened the straps of her helmet. Then she kicked off, gliding effortlessly into the bowl. She did a spin jump, twirling as she did so, before grinding on the lip of the bowl. Then Cindy came down, picking up speed, she narrowed her eyes in concentration and as she went up the side she did a cartwheel landing elegantly on her skates before going backwards to return to us. The other skaters had stopped what they were doing to watch her- some whooping their support. I watched in amazement as she slid to a stop in front of us, bowing deeply.

I clapped enthusiastically. "That was incredible!"

Dustin let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Show-off," he teased.

Cindy pretended to brush some dirt off her shoulder. "Eh, just another Monday." She said, sitting back down with a grin.

Kylie kicked her board towards me. "You want to try, Ellie?"

I looked nervously at the steep ramp. "I don't know..."

"Not in the bowl." She said, laughing at my expression. "We can start with some basic movements."

Cindy unbuckled her helmet and handed me her knee pads which I accepted gratefully.

It was a bit nerve-racking at first and I'd be a liar if I didn't say I fell a few times. But with some encouragement from the three of them, I slowly got the hang of the board, and soon I was flying around the park. As the wind whipped through my hair, I felt like I was flying. With a newfound determination I headed towards the lip of the bowl. Their eyes widened when they saw what I was going for, but their warnings fell on deaf ears. As I went down the side I felt the most exhilarating feeling rushing through my veins. I sped down the side, the board wobbled under me and I lost my balance, falling to the ground.

"Ellie!" The three of them ran down to check on me.

I looked up at them a bit dazed but still exhilarated, the adrenaline pumping through me. It was a thrill I was not soon to forget and I grinned up at Kylie who was looking down at me with concern in her eyes.

"That was amazing!" I said ecstatically.

They let out sighs of relief when they saw I was alright.

Kylie rolled her eyes in amusement leaning down to look me over. I had a few scrapes and bruises but other than that I felt fine. More than fine. I felt alive.

"One step at a time." She said.

I shook my head. "Can I try again?"

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

I nodded.

She snorted. "You are nuts, church girl." She said, but a bit of respect colored her tone, and she offered an arm and helped me to my feet.

Dustin and Cindy came running up. "Are you okay?"

Kylie laughed. "She wants to go again."

Cindy looked worried but Dustin clapped me on the back.

"Hell yeah."

It took me two more tries, but when I finally got it, their cheers made it all worth it. Something changed in me that day. In the past when I was faced with adversity my instinct had always been to run the opposite direction. But now, I was finally ready to face it head on. I was sure it had something to do with Kylie. When we finally left the skate park, I felt whole, like I had finally found somewhere I belonged. With them at my back I felt like I could take on anything. The world no longer seemed like such a huge and scary place.

Part 7.

Over the coming weeks we grew to be thick as thieves- hanging out at the skatepark, playing games at the arcade store, sharing shakes at the ShortStop. I learned a lot about them.

Dustin, like Kylie, loved to sketch, constantly drawing on anything he had with him at the moment. He was an absolute whiz with spray paint. Nothing he owned was safe from paint. His baseball cap, his skateboard, his sneakers. He only ever drew one thing though. Fire. His board was tagged black with the most wicked flames. As were his backpack and sneakers.

Cindy was the quiet one of the group. She liked to sit on the sidelines, smiling and listening as we talked. She had a quiet and calm personality, and she never sought to be the center of attention. She always chose her words with care and thought. Mention anything about manga however, her eyes would light up immediately and she would launch into a spiel about the latest shojo on the shelves.

Kylie was... Kylie. There was no other way to put it. She was daring and wild--if there was a rooftop to jump from, she'd be the first one to do it. No gap was too wide, no risk too great. She constantly lived on the edge. She hated one thing above all else. Posers. If she thought you were fake, she'd let you know it to your face. It was no wonder she and the Glossies never got along. With her looks and natural charisma, she could've been the most popular girl at Lake Vista, getting mani pedis with the Glossies and talking about boys and outfits. Instead, she chose to spend her days shredding her board at the park, doing kickflips and ollies with the best of them. And we loved her for it. She was always the life of the party, the glue that held us together.

The days turned to weeks and the weeks into months. Before I had met Kylie, Cindy, and Dustin, my days at Lake Vista had been bleak. Each day a blur, a grey smear on a blank canvas of nothingness. When I had met Kylie on that fateful day it was like she had torn down my walls and splashed a brilliant red and gold streak against the grey and breathed new life into the bland. My introduction to the skatepark and meeting Cindy and Dustin had added to that streak until the canvas shone bright with color.

Part 8.

As October faded into November, the leaves turned dry and brittle, blanketing the skatepark in a layer of burgundy that crunched beneath our boards. The air turned cool and crisp and the leaves made skittering sounds as the wind dragged them along the concrete.

My birthday neared but I didn't tell my friends. I didn't want them to make a fuss or to think I was high maintenance and I was fine with just a small celebration with my parents. The day of, I got off with Kylie at our usual stop but this time we didn't head to the skatepark. Instead she led me past the park down a dirt path hidden by overgrown bush. We came to a large storm drain-large enough to walk in. Cindy and Dustin were already inside waiting for us.

I looked at Kylie questioningly. But she only smiled and pushed me forward gently. When I stepped inside, Cindy grinned and produced a small cake from behind her back. The pink frosting was a bit smudged and the cake was tilted to one side, but to me, it was perfect.

I looked up at the three of them standing there, smiling at me.

"How did you know?"

Cindy winked at me. "Perks of being an office aide. It wasn't that hard to look up."

Dustin plopped a single candle in the middle and lit it with his lighter.

"Make a wish." Urged Cindy.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, thinking for a moment. Then I blew it out.

They cheered and Cindy cut the cake in four.

"Oh no. I forgot the plates and forks." She said looking worried.

I grinned and took a slice with my hands and ate it, smearing frosting over my fingers. The others laughed and quickly followed suit. The cake was delicious. Sweet, moist, and filled with love. I enjoyed every bite with relish, licking my fingers clean when I was done. Dustin wiped his hands on the back of his jeans and walked further into the tunnel. He picked up something hidden, tucked behind his backpack.

He came back holding a weathered skateboard. The deck was painted pitch black and yellow and orange flames licked the undersides. It was beautiful. He handed it to me.

I took it with reverence. "Wow." I breathed. "Is this your next skateboard?" I asked curiously.

Kylie laughed. "It's yours Ellie. I saw it at a garage sale and we each chipped in to get it. Dustin painted it himself."

Dustin leaned against the side of the storm drain with his hands in his pockets- looking immensely pleased with himself.

A lump formed in my throat as I looked at them and back to the board. I ran my fingers along the rough texture of the board, feeling the surface.

"Do you like it?" pressed Kylie. They each watched me.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded silently, touched by the gift.

"Thanks." I finally choked out. "I-I love it."

"We should try it out at the park," said Dustin, pushing off from the wall. He looked excited at the prospect of seeing how the board looked in action.

I nodded eagerly. I couldn't wait to test it.

"Wait," said Kylie. "First, the initiation."

She took a step back and the others crowded around me. Solemnly, she held up her hand in a fist. "I solemnly swear to shred, to snack, and to never snitch."

I copied her gesture and repeated the words with sincerity.

"May your board never break, may your wheels never loosen."

"May my board never break, may my wheels never loosen."

She took the skateboard from me and lightly tapped me on each shoulder. "With the power vested in me by no one, I declare you one of us. Welcome to the Den."

They hugged me in an awkward group hug. Then Kylie led me to a section of the wall further in. On it were each of their signatures. Kylie's was a skull, Cindy's was surrounded by pink hearts, and Dustin's of course had his signature flames. I took the spray can she handed me and wrote my name awkwardly in a messy scrawl. My spray control was not great. At the end I added a silver cross.

And with that I was part of the Den.

Part 9.

As the weeks went by, I finally worked up the courage to introduce Kylie to my parents. I invited her to church on Sunday. Everything went wrong right from the start. True to her form Kylie showed up on our doorstep looking as she always did. In her hoodie, skull earrings dangling from her ears, ripped jeans, and dark eyeliner. Her trademark golden red-streaked hair blowing in the cool breeze. My father, of course, took an instant dislike to her.

His lips were pursed as his eyes slowly looked her top to bottom, from her beanie down to her red high-tops. Then his gaze flicked to me in anger? Accusation? Betrayal? It was hard to tell. He seemed to be asking me "Really? This is the friend you chose?" with his eyes.

I quickly stepped to her side and introduced her.

"Dad, this is Kylie, the friend from school I told you about? I asked her to join us for church today."

Kylie, to her credit, was taking it seriously. She seemed desperate to make a good impression on my parents. She stuck out her hand politely.

"Hi, Mr. Blackman!" She said cheerfully.

My father's eyes narrowed and he stared at the proffered hand like it was a snake or something dirty.

Kylie's smile faltered a bit, her usual confidence seemed diminished. My mother stepped in and gave her a warm smile, taking her hand.

"It's very nice to meet you Kylie." She put her arm around Kylie and walked with her to our minivan. "Ellie's told us so much about you. Thank you so much for taking care of our girl." She swiveled her head to glare at my father, as if warning him to behave.

He turned to look at me, but I turned away in a huff. If he was going to act like a child, then so be it, I certainly wouldn't be the one to comfort him. My father stiffly made his way to sit in the driver's seat, my mother beside him on the passenger side. Kylie and I piled into the back.

The ride to the church was awkward. No one spoke much. Kylie nervously fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie.

We pulled into the Baptist church and made our way inside heading towards the pews near the back. As we sidled past people seated on the bench, they stared at Kylie's skull earrings, her eyeliner, and the rips in her jeans. I held her hand instinctively, gripping it to let her know she was not alone. She smiled at me weakly. We sat down with me between her and my parents. She hunched down in her seat trying to make herself smaller.

The pastor began speaking, his sermon was a long one about acceptance and kindness to neighbors, something I found ironic considering all the judgemental stares directed towards Kylie. As the pastor droned on, Kylie's attention began to wander and taking a Sharpie from her pocket she began to doodle absent-mindedly on her high-tops. My father noticed, his jaw tightening a vein in his temple pulsing dangerously.

I wanted to sink into the floor.

When the service was over, I practically dragged Kylie to the exit. She didn't complain. She kept her head down and followed me.

The ride back was somehow even more awkward than the ride there. When we got home, Kylie mumbled a polite thank you at the door. My mother gave her a kind smile and a little wave, but my father's silence was thunderous.

The second she was out of earshot my father exploded.

"What were you thinking inviting that... that.. girl?" he roared. "I've never felt more humiliated in my life. You are to never see her again!"

My mother looked like she was going to step in but before she could speak, something deep within me snapped. Maybe it was the way Kylie had seemed at church -so small, so fragile, so unlike her usual tough self. Maybe it was the fact she had tried so hard for me. For the first time I could remember, I stood up to my father.

"No." I said quietly.

My mom let out a small gasp. My father's eyes bulged. "What did you say?" His voice was low now, dangerous.

My heart hammered in my chest but once again, I stood my ground.

"No." I repeated. I stared back unflinchingly at my father.

"Go. To. Your. Room. Grounded indefinitely." He hissed.

I turned on my heel, stuck my nose in the air, and stalked off to my room, slamming the door behind me.

Outside, I could hear my mother and father arguing in raised voices. My father was blaming my going astray on Aunt Daphne and my mother was having none of it. A door slammed. Then silence.

I stretched out on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

My mother knocked on my door later that day to bring me lunch and later dinner. Each time she sat on the edge of my bed where I lay and rubbed my shoulder sympathetically before closing the door quietly as she left.

At midnight I awoke to the sound of a pebble hitting my window. Groggily, I slipped out of bed and slid the window open to find Kylie in my backyard. She was searching the ground for another pebble when noticed me. She waved. I grinned and waved back. She held up her board and tapped it then jerked her head indicating for me to join her. I grabbed the board from under my bed and dropped it down to her. Then I climbed carefully out of my window onto the old sycamore tree that pressed against the wall of our house.

When I had shimmied down the trunk, we grabbed our boards and snuck silently over the fence and down the street. As soon as we were out of earshot we hopped on our boards.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we hurtled down the street, the wind whipping through our hair, asphalt crunching under the wheels of our boards. Kylie didn't answer.

We came to a stop at a hiking trail that disappeared into the dark trees.

Crickets chirped all around us and off in the distance we could hear the hooting of an owl. I shivered.

"Are we going in there?"

Kylie nodded. She pulled out a flashlight. She flicked it on and walked down the trail. After a moment's hesitation, I quickly ran to catch up. I supposed I owed her that much. She had after all accompanied me to church.

After a few minutes of walking, Kylie left the trail. We followed a creek until we came to a small clearing where the creek widened into a pond. Kylie sat at the pond's edge leaning back to rest on her hands. I sat down next to her and pulled my knees under my chin, hugging them.

"Sorry, I got you grounded." She said sheepishly.

I shook my head. "Not your fault."

She picked up a smooth pebble and skipped it across the pond expertly. "You think it would've gone better if I'd worn a dress or something?"

I pictured her in a white sundress with her skull earrings and dark eyeliner and couldn't help but laugh. "Honestly, I think that would've been more terrifying." I chucked a pebble at the pond and it sank after the first bounce.

She shoved me playfully and I toppled over giggling.

"You want to go for a swim?"

I glanced at her. "Now? It's cold out and neither of us have swimsuits."

She was already stripping off her clothes. Blushing, I quickly averted my gaze.

"Are you crazy? It's freezing!"

She laughed and tossed the last of her clothes beside me in a heap. Then she waded into the pond, slipping beneath the surface, and then popping back up to look at me.

"You coming?" She called.

"Uh... no I'm good." I said, looking at her now that she was mostly underwater.

She waded back towards me and strode up the bank. Her hair was damp and clung to her face and body. The moonlight shone on her, illuminating her as she emerged from the pond, ripples spreading out from her. I tried not to stare but it was like my eyes had a mind of their own. This time, I couldn't look away. Water streamed down her body in small rivulets and my eyes slowly traveled down her face, her neck, to the soft swell of her breasts. My gaze went down to her navel and lower. Blushing, my cheeks on fire, I forced myself to look her in the face. She was grinning widely, standing in front of me unashamed of her nakedness.

"You're not a chicken are you?" She asked, bending her arms at her waist and flapping them. "Bawk, bawk."

I stood up, goaded. I wasn't a chicken. Not anymore at least. I quickly kicked off my shoes and socks, before shedding my clothes. I carefully folded them and placed them in a neat pile. Satisfied that I was going to join her, Kylie slipped back into the water. She watched me, unabashedly staring at me as I undressed.

As I waded into the pond, Kylie playfully splashed water on me. I yelped as the cool water washed over me. I splashed her back.

"Come on, try and catch me." She teased me, swimming away. Grinning, I dove into the water after her. She darted away. We swam side by side for a while, the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the pond. I couldn't help but notice how easy it was to be with her in this moment--like nothing else mattered.

We didn't swim for too long. The water was really cold and we got out shivering. I reached for my clothes but Kylie snatched them away.

"Hey, give it back." I said, taking a half-hearted swipe at her.

"Let's swap." She said laughing. "I want to see what it's like to be Ellie Blackman for a moment." She quickly put on my clothes, pulling my white dress over her head. "How do I look?"

I stared at her, standing there in my dress. The dress clung to her body in all the wrong places- or perhaps all the right ones. She looked beautiful and ridiculous all at once, her hair clinging to her face, her earrings glinting in the moonlight. "You look like a cursed doll." I said laughing.

She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. "Oooo I'm Grandma Ellie." She said in a spooky voice.

We both collapsed in a fit of giggles. She pointed at her clothes. "Come on. Try on mine."

Feeling a bit foolish I pulled on her ripped jeans and hoodie. They smelled like her, faintly of strawberries.

"How do I look?" I asked, turning slowly, my arms wide.

"Whoa. You look hot." She said, staring at me.

My cheeks turned pink and I looked away. "Shut up." I muttered, certain she was pulling my leg.

"No, I'm serious." She stepped closer to me. She reached up and turned my face to look at her, her fingers soft against my cheek. My heart hammered painfully in my chest. Then she leaned in and kissed me. Our lips brushed against each other's unsure, awkward. I froze, wide-eyed. I had never thought of kissing another girl before. This was certainly not how I had imagined my first kiss. Yet with Kylie everything felt so natural... so right. I relaxed. Our lips melted together. Heat spread within me and I closed my eyes.

Finally we pulled apart. We looked at each other shyly, not daring to speak for a moment. I felt a jolt of shame almost as soon as it ended. This was wrong. I could hear my father's voice inside me. Sin. Unnatural. Wrong.

"I'm sorry." I blurted out, not really sure what I was apologizing for. For liking it? For not pulling away?

Kylie's smile faltered and she looked away. Suddenly she began to shiver, coughing- a sharp, rattling cough that shook her whole frame. I reached out a hand.

Concerned, I reached out for her. "Are you alright?"

She stepped back still avoiding my gaze. "I'm fine." After a moment it was over.

"We should probably head back." she muttered finally. We grabbed our boards and headed back up the trail. When we reached an intersection, our paths split. We parted ways without so much as a goodbye.

When I finally clambered back through the window, I was exhausted and cold. I changed out of her clothes and lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Had I turned my back on God? Was I betraying my family? My father? I shook myself, turning over and wrapping the blankets more tightly around me. We were just playing. It wasn't serious. It didn't mean anything.

But no matter what I told myself, what rationalizations I cooked up. I couldn't deny that, at that moment, I had enjoyed it.

Part 10.

The next Monday, I sat on the bus again at our usual spot, eagerly waiting for her in anticipation. I shifted over to make space for her, as usual. But when we reached Kylie's stop, she walked past my seat and avoided my gaze. She sat by herself, sketching quietly, her strokes were fast and angry. I looked at her in hurt and confusion. Was it something I had said or done? Was she angry at me? I racked my brain for answers and found none. When we pulled into the parking lot, she grabbed her bag and was off the bus before I could say a word.

A knot formed in my stomach and I couldn't concentrate on my classes. When the bell finally rang to end of class I searched desperately for Kylie in the halls. I finally found her walking in the hall, slouched over. I grabbed her elbow.

"Kylie wait-"

She turned and flinched at my touch.

She looked at me then. My eyes widened. Her eyes were tired and rimmed with red. There was no anger, only hurt.

She jerked her arm out of my grasp. "I'm late for class." She muttered.

"Kylie, please," my voice cracked. "Talk to me."

"You just don't get it do you." She spoke softly, no anger, just sadness. "You said sorry, Ellie. Like it was mistake."

I opened my mouth, unsure of how to respond, I closed it.

She shook her head. "I get it. You didn't mean it. It's fine."

But it wasn't fine.

She shifted her backpack over her shoulder then turned again and strode off. She didn't look back.

My grounding meant I had to go home directly from school. I was unable to visit Kylie and the others at the skatepark anymore. It meant that not only had I been cut off from Kylie, but Cindy and Dustin as well. As the days passed, it was clear Kylie hadn't forgiven me. The brilliant canvas that had previously shone with color, slowly faded to grey once more. My walls came up once again and I receded once more into my shell.

I didn't know what to do.

Everyday I came home and went straight to my room. When I came down for dinner I only picked at my food and refused to talk. My mother would ask me, worry in her eyes, how school was and I would respond the same every time.

Fine.

I didn't want to make her worry.

But, I didn't have the strength to fake a smile.

Part 11

In early January, my grounding finally ended.

Out of concern for me, my mother had managed to convince my father to let me off the hook in the hopes it would brighten my spirits.

It didn't.

What was the point? I had broken the only connections I had made. I continued to sit inside my room refusing to come out.

My mother couldn't stand it any longer. She came to my room one day and demanded to know what was wrong.

Leaving out my midnight rendezvous, I broke down and told her how I had hurt Kylie deeply and I didn't know how to get her back. She hugged me then.

Just be true to yourself and tell her how you feel.

I stared at my mother. Did she know something? How did she know? Was I that easy to read? But what she said resonated with me. I knew what I had to do. Filled with determination and a new sense of purpose, I grabbed my skateboard and practically flew down the street to Kylie's house. I would set things straight with her, no matter what.

Kylie never talked much about her home life. When I asked her about it she was always vague and I was mostly met with a shrug or a noncommittal grunt. I'd learned from Cindy that Kylie's dad was an alcoholic who had been let go from his last job and now stayed at home on disability. The way Kylie spent her days at the skatepark always refusing to go home until everyone else had gone, even sometimes staying there by herself to skateboard led me to suspect there was more that she wasn't telling me, but I never pressed her. If she wanted to tell me she'd let me know in her own time.

As I approached her duplex that Saturday, my suspicions were finally confirmed. When I reached her front yard I could hear raised voices arguing in their living room. I couldn't hear that clearly but this is what I got out of it.

"-- can't pay your goddamn bills any longer!" slurred a deep voice in anger.

"Maybe if you got off your ass and quit drinking for once-"

Crack.

I froze at that sound.

The door burst open and Kylie came flying out. Her face had an angry red mark across it and she had tears in her eyes. It was like she hadn't even seen me. She threw her board down and hopped on it racing down the street.

"Kylie wait-" I called desperately.

She either didn't hear me or ignored me. She kept going. Her wheel hit a loose piece of gravel and came loose. She fell hard against the asphalt, skidding, her board slid to a stop by the curb.

I ran to her.

She had sat up but she was a mess of tears.

"Kylie." I said as I reached for her.

She shoved my hand away. "Go away Ellie."

But I didn't.

Instead, I wrapped my arms around her. "I'm here Kylie."

She struggled in my arms but then she slowly calmed down. Her sobbing subsided and she relaxed in my embrace. We stayed like that for a bit.

"I did mean it." I said. Finally admitting to her what I had been denying myself all this time. "I did mean it." I repeated. She nodded slowly.

Then she fell into a fit of coughing. I rubbed her back soothingly.

And just like that. I was forgiven. Kylie was never one for elaborate apologies. She just needed to know you were real and that was that.

I rejoined the others at the skatepark after school once more. Cindy and Dustin were both ecstatic to see that my house arrest was over. I skated with a vengeance, determined to make up for lost time.

Kylie, however, no longer rode as often as she once did. Her coughing seemed to have worsened and sometimes she just sat on the sidelines, cheering us on as we rode. Once, on the rare occasion that she did ride, she fell from her board, wincing. We rushed to her but she got to her feet, waving us off. She didn't want help. A pill bottle had slipped out of her pockets but she quickly hid it before she thought anyone had noticed. But I noticed.

She hobbled stiffly to the edge of the bowl and climbed out by herself. Kylie never asked nor wanted help from anyone. She just sat there wheezing slightly. Dustin went to grab her board while Cindy and I went to check on her.

Annoyed, she waved us off again. She was fine, she claimed. Cindy and I looked at each other in worry.

Part 12.

One night, I awoke once more to another pebble tapping against my window. I slid it open to find Kylie waving at me, a small smile on her face. Once again, I shimmied down the tree to meet her. She had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

"What's up?" I asked after we'd hugged.

"Couldn't sleep," she said simply. "I wanted to show you something."

She grabbed her board once more and we flew down the street. She had to stop every few minutes to take a breather, sometimes leaning against a tree, sometimes sitting on the curb. After the first time, I took the duffel bag from her. She gave it up without complaint. But when she was on her skateboard, she was the old Kylie once more. She was free. I loved to watch her as she rode, her hair whipping about the wind, a giant smile on her face.

By the time we arrived at an abandoned parking garage it was almost midnight. It was situated on top of a hill overlooking the city. We skated past the gate and up the ramp. Kylie struggled up the ramps, but I helped her, and for once, she let me.

"Push me, Ellie," she said, stretching her arms out wide.

Obligingly, I held her waist and raced her up the ramp. She let out an Indian war cry and I joined in, our voices echoing in the emptiness of the garage.

When we had reached the top, she took the duffel bag from me. She took out a thin blanket and spread it on the ground. She pulled out a few snacks and drinks and we lay down. We talked and talked, reminiscing about past adventures, skating, the Glossies, Cindy and Dustin, whatever we could think of.

We looked out at the Dallas skyline in silence.

Kylie was first to break the silence.

"What do you want to be Ellie?" she asked, lying down on the blanket and staring at the starry sky.

I laid down next to her and stared up at the stars as well. "I-I don't know." I confessed. I had never thought that far. But Kylie didn't seem that concerned.

"I want to see the world, Ellie. I want to travel everywhere and skate in parks around the world. I want to visit the Pyramids, the Louvre, the Taj Mahal."

I looked at her. She seemed once again in her own little world. She was so beautiful like this. Kylie's face was so open.

"I want to fly. I want to soar through the sky like a bird. I want to be free."

I loved to hear her talk.

"You'll do all those things Kylie. And we'll be with you every step of the way." I said sincerely.

"You promise?" She asked tremulously.

I studied her. Her eyes were wet. She didn't look like the brave Kylie I knew. For once, she looked like a scared little girl. Vulnerable.

I sat up and held her hand. "Of course, Kylie. I'm with you wherever you go."

She sat up as well and stuck out her pinkie. "Promise?"

I wrapped mine around hers. "Promise." I said confidently.

She leaned in and kissed me. However, it felt different from the first time. This one felt afraid, and delivered with an urgency I didn't quite understand. She gently pushed me back against the blankets. Our lips brushed against each other. This time I met her with eagerness and her lips pressed against mine hard. Her tongue parted my mouth and we kissed deeply, passionately.

Her hand slid under my shirt and under my bra, caressing my breasts. I pulled her against me tighter. I could feel a heat spreading inside me like fire. I wanted her more than anything else. My mind was clouded.

But then as her hand slid underneath my pants, I felt my father's disapproving face again. The cross around my neck seemed to glow hot in protest.

I broke off the kiss gasping. "Wait Kylie-"

But she ignored me and pressed her lips against mine more tightly, her hand sliding lower.

I broke off the kiss once more and pushed her gently away from me.

She looked at me, hurt in her eyes.

"Kylie, its-its moving a little fast for me. Can you give me a little more time?" I pleaded with her, for understanding. I needed her to know I wasn't turning her down. I just needed to think things through, to clear my mind.

She studied me then nodded slowly.

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something then closed it slowly.

She smiled sadly. "I understand, Ellie. I shouldn't have pressured you."

I hugged her tightly and she hugged me back. There was nothing that couldn't be solved with just a little more time.

"Let's head back," she said quietly.

We rolled up the blanket and placed it in the duffel bag. Then we headed back.

The journey back was easier than the journey there. Most of it was downhill and Kylie didn't need to stop as often.

When we reached an intersection where our paths diverged, we stopped to say our goodbyes. We embraced.

"I'll see you later." I said.

"Goodbye, Ellie," she said. She paused as if there was more but then she looked back down.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" I asked worriedly.

She shook her head, smiling sweetly. "No Ellie. I could never be mad at you."

She held my hand, squeezing it one last time, before turning to go. I watched her leave, feeling a sense of unease that I couldn't yet place.

Part 13.

That night, I wrestled with my conscience. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Finally, I gave up and climbed out of bed, kneeling at the window and looking out at the starry sky framed by the old sycamore tree. For the first time in over a year, I prayed.

I prayed for guidance, for strength, for all manner of things to help me make sense of the feelings inside of me threatening to break free. There was no answer. Only silence.

I placed my fingers around the silver cross that hung around my neck.

"What should I do?" I whispered into the silence. Aunt Daphne's voice sounded in my head. If anyone ever tells you to pick between being sweet and being strong... don't. Be both. Then my mother's words rang loud and clear in my mind. Just be true to yourself and tell her how you feel. I had my answer. I knew what to do.

I would tell her.

First thing tomorrow.

I loved her.

I went to sleep finally at peace with my thoughts.

The next day, I waited for Kylie again at our usual spot, but when we pulled up to her stop, she was nowhere to be seen. A slight feeling of unease formed inside me. Was she angry again? No. I quashed the feeling. I'd tell her after school. If she didn't want to listen I'd make her listen.

By midday, Kylie had still not shown and I was beginning to worry.

After school, I rode the bus and got off at Kylie's stop. I worked up my courage and approached the weathered door of Kylie's house with its peeling brown paint. I knocked on the door.

The door opened, Kylie's frail looking mother stood in the doorway. Her eyes were rimmed red and she looked exhausted.

I didn't pay any attention to that. I had only one thought on my mind. Tell Kylie.

"Hi, Mrs. Bennet, can I please talk to Kylie? It's urgent." I said.

She covered her mouth, a tear ran down her cheek, and she shook her head. "Kylie's gone."

"Gone?" I asked. "Gone where? Is she at the skatepark?"

She shook her head. "No dear, she's gone. She passed away last night."

I stared at her not comprehending the words coming out of her mouth. "Passed away?" What in the world was she talking about? I had spoken to Kylie less than a day ago. I was starting to get annoyed.

"Kylie?" I called into the house. "I need to talk to you."

There was no answer.

Impatiently, I pushed past Mrs. Bennet and entered the house.

"Wait-" She called after me, but I had no intention of waiting for her.

I raced up the stairs to Kylie's room. I felt a tightness constricting my chest that I couldn't explain. Where was Kylie? I pushed open the door. Below I could hear Mrs. Bennet calling after me, running up the stairs.

Kylie's room was small, tidy, and bathed in pink. A few stuffed animals sat on the pillows on her bed. It was not at all what I had expected from a punk skater girl. I looked around. Her room was empty. I felt panic settling in. Where was Kylie?

Kylie's mother appeared in the doorway, slightly breathless.

"She's gone sweetheart." She repeated, brokenly.

No. No. No. She was lying.

"Who is that?" slurred a voice from downstairs.

"No one." called Mrs. Bennet shakily.

I looked around and saw a note folded neatly on Kylie's desk. Written in Kylie's handwriting, in blue ink, it read simply, To Ellie. With trembling hands I reached out to take it.

There was an empty bottle of pills next to it.

I opened it and as I read, tears fell freely from my face onto the page, smudging the ink.

Dear Ellie,

I'm sorry it had to be like this. I'm sorry I never told you, or Cindy, or Dustin about any of this. I didn't want you guys to see me as weak or like some fucking charity case. I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis a long time ago. A few months ago the doctors said that it's terminal. With my dad on disability and constantly drinking we don't have the money to cover my treatments. The pains been getting worse. I'm sorry I came on to you so hard tonight but time was running out. I wanted to end on a high.

I hope you understand. I needed to go out my way, on my own terms. I hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive me someday.

Ellie, I loved you ever since that day you stood up to Lexi Stain. I wish I had told you that face to face but I never worked up the courage. I leave you my sketchbook. To Dustin, I know he's been wanting my board for the longest time so tell him to treat it well. To Cindy I leave my iPod.

You guys must think I'm the world's biggest hypocrite.

I'm sorry. I love you all. You guys are my real family. I love you, Ellie, My Rebel Girl.

No. It was a trick. A prank. A lie.

"She was in so much pain," cried Mrs. Bennet, her voice breaking. "We-we didn't have the money..." Her voice trailed off. She seemed to be pleading with me for what? For forgiveness? For understanding?

In that moment, I felt none of those things. Only hate.

I hated her for being weak, for failing to protect Kylie. I hated her drunk deadbeat of a husband for not providing for Kylie when she needed it the most. But most of all, I hated myself. For being too late. For not putting the pieces together. For not telling her I loved her before it was too late.

I wiped the tears from my face in anger.

Mrs. Bennet looked at me and gestured helplessly at the bed. "I-I bundled up her things."

I looked at where she was pointing. Kylie's skateboard, sketchbook, and iPod were all wrapped in a neat bundle. I took it wordlessly.

I didn't trust myself to speak. I was worried if I stayed any longer I might do something I really regretted. I wanted to shake her by her frail shoulders and demand to know why she hadn't protected Kylie.

Deep down, I knew it wasn't her fault. Not all of it at least. But that forgiveness was something for future Ellie to worry about. Present Ellie? Present Ellie needed to hit something. Hard.

I grabbed the bundle and the letter and hurried out of the house.

Part 14.

I burst into my house and ran for my room. I slammed the door, locking it behind me before falling on my bed, bawling. My pillow was soon covered in tears, spit, and snot but I didn't care. I took out the letter and read it again, my tears falling again upon the letter. I pulled out the sketchbook. I dried my tears carefully, not wanting to smudge any of her precious sketches. There was the wyvern. A few sketches of her flying through the air on a bird. I flipped the page and stopped. There was a sketch of me sitting on the bus. It was from that first day she had purposely sat apart from me. Even then, she had been sketching me. I broke once more, my hand touching the page reverently.

I heard a knocking on my door. The knob jiggled.

"Ellie. It's your father. Open the door." He commanded.

"GO AWAY!!" I screamed at the door. I screamed until I was hoarse. I was filled with so much pain so much heartbreak and rage.

His voice came softer then. "Ellie. Please open this door."

Finally, I calmed down enough to walk over and unlock the door. I slumped back down on my bed, utterly broken.

My father sidled in. He stood awkwardly in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

"We heard about Kylie. The school called us." He said quietly.

I shook the letter at him, tears running down my cheeks, anger rising in me once more. I needed someone to blame. Someone other than myself.

"You must be damn pleased with yourself. I guess I'll never see her again, just like you fucking wanted." I yelled at him. I had never cursed in my life. It felt good. Some release. Somewhere to vent the feelings that threatened to turn me upside down.

I expected my father to blow his fuse, to sternly order me to lower my voice, to tell me to watch my mouth. He did none of those things. Instead he continued to stand there awkwardly looking down at the floor. It angered me. Where was his righteous anger when I needed it. I needed someone to scold me, to punish me for the guilt I felt raging inside of me.

"SAY SOMETHING!" I screamed at him, my voice raw with emotion. My voice broke and I shook with uncontrollable sobs. I swayed.

He came over and caught me before I could fall.

"I'm sorry, Ellie." He held me in his arms. I wanted to shove him away, to yell at him some more, but I was exhausted.

"I-I was wrong."

I was too stunned to speak. In my surprise, I momentarily forgot my pain. I stared at him in shock. Never had I ever heard my father say he was wrong about anything. Ever.

He seated me next to him on the bed and he looked at the wall. His eyes were watery and he stared straight ahead. I waited with bated breath for him to speak.

Eventually he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I think I was too hard on you and also... also your Aunt Daphne."

This was not where I expected this conversation to go.

"I always talk about the compassion of Christ and acceptance of others, yet I've found lately that I rarely practice what I preach." He continued stiffly. "I saw Kylie as some sort of devil, brought here to lead you astray, when I should've realized she was just a broken soul who needed healing."

It was dead silent. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.

My father continued. "I've come to realize that that day I grounded you, it was my pride speaking not my connection to Christ. I was embarrassed by how people stared at us at church that day. I was angered by how you talked back to me."

He fell silent once more. This was a side to my oil working father I had never seen before. He had always been cold, stern, aloof. I didn't know how to react.

Finally he looked at me, his voice gruff. "Can you forgive me Ellie?"

I knew how hard those words were for him to say. To place himself there. To ask for my forgiveness.

I clung to him and sobbed into his flannel shirt. "Yes."

He held me then.

Finally, my sobs died down, the front of his shirt was soaked. I worked up my nerves to ask him the question that had been bouncing around in my head all day. The one that frightened me and that I had buried deep inside of me.

"I loved her Dad. And she- she loved me. Do you- do you think God was punishing me? Us?" I looked at him. Scared. Terrified of his answer.

He was silent for a long moment and his grip around me tightened protectively. Finally he let out a sigh and he relaxed. "No, honey," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't think he would punish anyone for that."

Finally, I felt the tension leave my own body and I lay my head against his chest, rising and falling with his breathing.

Part 15.

In the days following Kylie's passing, the students stared at me and spoke in hushed whispers as I walked past them. I ignored them. Gone were the days when I cared what other people thought of me. I'd already given Cindy and Dustin, the iPod and the skateboard. We had met at the Den and together we had read the note again. We'd cried. They were the only people from school whose opinion I valued. The only ones who understood what Kylie had truly meant. The school was to hold a memorial service in Kylie's honor on Friday. Flyers were posted in the hallways and classrooms. I didn't have high hopes.

On the night of, my parents and I headed to school. They were dressed in black formal wear, I instead chose to wear Kylie's hoodie and jeans from that night when we had swapped clothing. I had also decided to bring my skateboard. My parents didn't stop me. Parents and students filed into the gymnasium, sitting on the bleachers. I sat with my parents near the top.

Principal Stewart adjusted the mic and the room gradually fell silent. He cleared his throat.

"Kylie Bennet was a bright light at Lake Vista High. Though her time with us was short, we will always treasure her smile, her energy, and the impact she had on students and teachers alike..." He continued with more of the same. Had he copied this speech from an online site, perhaps with a template for students who passed away during the school year? For some inexplicable reason I felt a huge desire to laugh or scream. I couldn't tell which.

When he began to invite teachers up to give their own speeches and even a girl who sat next to Kylie in one of her classes, I had had enough. I stood up.

"I need some air. I'll see you back at home." I told my parents.

My mother looked worried and opened her mouth as if to call me back, but my father placed a hand on her arm.

"Let her be."

I left the gymnasium clutching my skateboard- the students on their phones, all the parents with their fake empathy- and walked down the hallway. Outside I heard faint laughter and saw a group of girls standing by the lockers. Lexi was in the middle.

"I heard she was a fucking dyke too and her father was some deadbeat drunk. Probably molested her or something." Came Lexi's snide voice. One of the girls saw me and her eyes widened, she pointed but didn't have time to say a word. I dropped my board. The blood pounded in my ears and I made a beeline directly for Lexi. Grabbing her by the lapels of her jacket I slammed her, hard, against the lockers.

Lexi let out a yelp, her eyes darting around frantically. "Hey, let go of me, freak!" She looked desperately around for help but her friends seemed stunlocked.

My eyes were wild and rage surged through me like never before.

"If I ever, EVER, hear you say Kylie's name again out of your pathetic mouth, in fact if anyone even tells me that you or your friends mentioned her again, I will take a pair of scissors and cut that trashy excuse for hair from your head."

There was no trace of bluff in my eyes, and I could tell she knew I was dead serious.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

I shoved her against the locker again and left her looking dazed. I picked my skateboard off the ground and stalked off, the adrenaline pumping in my veins. I couldn't believe I had ever let that girl scare me. I hoped that somewhere out there, Kylie was watching with a big smile on her face.

Part 16.

I rode my board, blinking the hot tears from my eyes. There was somewhere I needed to be.

Half an hour later I was finally there. I ran to the wall in the Den where Kylie's name was sprayed in black paint and hugged it. My legs gave out and I sat down hard on the concrete. I drew my knees under my chin and hugged myself, tears streaming down my face.

"Don't leave me, Kylie. I need you. You promised." my voice broke and I wept freely. I rocked myself, my body racked with sobs. I don't know how long I stayed there for. I felt a hand on either side of my shoulder. I looked up to find Cindy and Dustin standing behind me, their eyes red from crying as well.

"We figured you would come here as well," said Cindy softly. "The service was terrible."

Dustin kicked a rock angrily. It skittered across the floor of the drain. "Fucking posers."

I stood up and we embraced for a long moment- a shaky group hug. Dustin picked up a boombox and placed it against the wall. I looked at it in surprise, wiping the tears away from my eyes.

"What's that for?"

"I brought it from home." He said. "We wanted to give Kylie a proper sendoff. One she deserved, from the people who actually knew her."

Cindy nodded and held up the iPod that Kylie had left her. On the tiny screen a playlist title read: Final Ride.

"When You're Gone" - Avril Lavigne

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" - Green Day

"Dream On" - Aerosmith

"Rebel Girl" - Bikini Kill

"Bad Reputation" - Joan Jett

"Sabotage" - Beastie Boys

"Free Bird" - Lynyrd Skynyrd

"It was the playlist Kylie was listening to when she... when she..." her voice broke and she swallowed. Dustin wrapped his arm around her.

"We figured we'd play it here."

I nodded.

Cindy placed a small candle on the ground. Dustin took out his lighter, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to light the candle. The flame flickered softly and filled the space with a warm glow. He hooked the iPod to the boombox with a small aux cable. As Avril Lavigne's song began to play, I choked back a sob. Cindy's hand found her way inside mine and she gave me a reassuring squeeze. We listened in silence, the boombox filling the storm drain, the music swelling and echoing off the curved walls. When Rebel Girl began to play, we all couldn't help but smile remembering the good times at the skatepark, the arcade.

Finally came Freebird. Dustin pulled out the lighter again, this time holding it above his head. The flame flickered wildly in the breeze, a stubborn little spark refusing to go out. When the song ended Dustin closed the lighter.

"Fly high, free bird." He whispered. A small breeze came in at that moment, extinguishing the candle in a puff of smoke. We stared at each other, wide eyed, hardly daring to speak.

Epilogue. Present Day

It's been eighteen years since the incident. When Kylie had passed away all those years ago, she had taken a large part of me with her. Some days, it still aches -- a quiet, hollow place in my heart I know will never fully heal. But she also left me with something. A fire. A freedom. It was over a decade before I finally met David Lars, my loving husband of seven years. I now had something that gave me hope, something to allow me to perhaps heal my broken heart in time. She stood next to me, her small hand grasping mine, looking up at me with large eyes, filled with wonder. She wore a beanie, ripped jeans, and a pink hoodie. Around her neck was a small silver cross. In her other hand, she clutched a small skateboard.

"Are we going to see Auntie Kylie today?" she asked.

I looked down at my beautiful six year old daughter with a small sad smile. "Yes, sweetie." Together we walked down the beaten overgrown dirt path to a large storm drain. Together we stood in front of where Kylie's name was sprayed in fading black paint above a skull. Directly underneath it in yellow paint was a new name. Sky. There was a small yellow sun beside her name.

Sky placed a small daisy she had picked at the foot of the wall. We stayed there in silence for a moment. Then she tugged on my hand.

"Can we ride now?"

I smiled at her, a tear running down my cheek. But it was a happy tear, one filled with hope. "Yes, honey. Let's ride."

The End.

Additional Note: Thank you guys for reading my story. I know it was a bit rough. This story was inspired by one of my favorite novels growing up, "The Bridge to Terabithia" and Kylie was based in part on Avril Lavigne's persona, my childhood celebrity crush, during her punk rock era.

In addition, this story was originally to be titled "Faith and Fire" but in the process of writing this I discovered the song "Rebel Girl" and absolutely fell in love with it. As I wrote this I mostly listened to that song on repeat while writing Ellie's rebellious moments. Originally, this song was meant to represent Kylie, but I'd like to think that by the end it became Ellie's own anthem.

Before posting this, I struggled very hard on which genre to place this in as there were so many nuances to this story that made me question its placement. I'm sorry if this was placed in the wrong category. Please don't yell at me. I hope you enjoyed this work as it has definitely been the hardest one I've written so far, both technically and emotionally.

Content Warning:

In this story it is heavily implied that one of the characters lives with a physically abusive parent who struggles with alcoholism and is slapped once offscreen. In addition one of the characters suffers from a terminal illness and eventually takes her own life in a drug overdose. If you find any of this to be triggering please, PLEASE, do not read. Nothing is worth reading at the expense of mental health.