brooke reyes / district 3

The first thing you should know about me is that I probably hate you.

It's nothing personal, but let's be honest. Are you even really that interesting? I've seen you around here before, watching me skate around the block. You wear the same plaid skirt and white blouse everyday, most likely because your parents live on the rich side of the neighborhood. They can afford to send you to private school, with your little uniform and after school programs. You always have glasses falling down the bridge of your nose as you clutch some stupid novel to your chest. What, you think you're fucking special because you read for fun? Nobody gives a fuck!

Especially not me.

Okay, so maybe it is personal.

I just hate everything you stand for. All that privilege you carry on your shoulders makes me want to clench my fist and crash my knuckles across your jaw. All that money I know your parents have, all that cash they don't need that could probably feed the entirety of the lower districts for at least six months just makes me want to close my hands around your throat and squeeze. 

I suppose that's why I'm in anger management. Because I 'need to learn how to control my rage' and I need to 'work on disengaging from triggering encounters' so I can 'better my mood and my attitude'. Whatever. I just go because the court ordered me to. It was either say yes or go straight to the Detention Center. And trust me, you don't wanna go there. I was unlucky enough to spend just one night there and that was enough. The place is like a hell hole where kids go to die, or get lost to the system. Which is a lot like dying anyway, only slower.

You wouldn't last five minutes. 

I did meet this amazing girl at my last meeting, though. Not that I should be telling you, but hey, you're the one that couldn't stop staring so now that you're here, you could at least listen! Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah! This girl. Holy fuck. She's so gorgeous, but also, like, so fucking badass. I didn't catch her name or anything, but get this, okay: she rolled - yeah, you heard me right, rolled her way in. It was so sick; she did this cool jump over the three stairs down into the basement where we gather and then skated right into the organizer. Knocked him right on his ass, but he couldn't even be mad at her because she flashed this beautiful smile and had on the shortest shorts I'd ever seen, so like, obviously he didn't scold her. 

And who can blame him? I wouldn't have either. 

She was stunning, with sun-kissed cheeks and a smile that could knock the win out of anyone who caught a glimpse.

*ahem*

But anyway, what was I talking about?
Oh, right!

I know it's kind of creepy, but I followed her after. Hilariously enough, I had my own skates in my bag, so I quickly excused myself a few minutes before the meeting was over and put them on in the restroom. She was easy enough to spot; you don't see many people skating around in Nine. Which was why I was so intrigued. I never did catch her name, but when she arrived at her destination, I was confused as fuck to say the least. She headed inside this huge abandoned building, at least that's what it looked like from the outside, and until I snuck inside that was what I thought I was walking into. But as I stepped inside and heard the music and the echo of skates on pavement, my mind was blown.

It was an entire group of girls on skates, all messing around and practicing these crazy moves I'd never seen before. One girl pretended to strike at another, twisting her arm up and around the girl's neck. It was playful, all in fun, but clearly a demonstration of what could happen, if she really wanted. But what exactly were they doing, you might ask? Well, I had no fucking clue! So, obviously I stayed and watched. 

Hiding beneath some bleachers, knee deep in old popcorn and littered beer cans, I peered through the stands and took note of everything. The music they played. The anger each and every one of them seemed to harbor. The beauty in the way they gracefully spun around the... court? Arena? I'm not really sure, but it was amazing, let me tell you. Like a group of goddesses just sitting at a wellspring, soaking up the sun in all their womanly glory. 

It was almost a religious experience for me, I'm not even kidding. And I'm sure that sounds stupid, but it was like I had found my people for the first time in eighteen years. For as long as I can remember, my mother has been trying to stuff me in pretty dresses with flowers, in frilly socks and mary-janes. When all I want to wear is ripped jeans and a t-shirt from my favorite band. She wants me to so badly be just like my younger sister. The spitting image of my delicate and feminine mother, so sweet and tender and loving. But her shoving that shit down my throat just drives me fucking insane!!!

It makes me so angry. 

So I go out and do shit I'm not supposed to, get in trouble hanging out with people I shouldn't. It's stupid, I know, but I just want to be the total opposite of what she wants me to be - and I want her to still love me. But I know she doesn't. I know she's too small-minded and traditional to ever be okay with me just being me. 

But those girl's at the rink, they'll understand me. I just know it. So I'm gonna go back this Saturday when my mom and sister are out shopping, and I'm gonna see if they'll let me audition. I've been skating since I was six; there's no way they'll say no to me. 

If they do, I'll kick their fuckin asses because I'm the best skater they'll ever get.

And that's a promise.