Chapter One ☆ 2.1k words
CW: Implied domestic violence
As the cherry red convertible sped down route 5, Sirius felt freedom for the first time. It was indefinite, unmarred by a curfew or the distant promise of a beating. Pure unknown.
Sirius had met Lindsey and Sarah last weekend. They weren’t like other girls he knew. Older, mature, confident. They’d dropped out of college and spent most of their time hanging around bands or getting high at parties in Beverly Hills. As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what they were doing when he met them.
At 11pm on Saturday, Sirius climbed out of his second story window, dropped himself onto his father’s neatly mown lawn, and wandered through the streets looking for something to do. His friends were gone for the summer and his parents had snapped his skateboard in two only hours earlier, so this stroll was really an act of desperation. It took ten minutes for him to hear the thumping of bass through a speaker, at which point he headed for the source like a hound on a scent.
It was an extravagant house (as all the houses around there were) with what Sirius assumed was ordinarily an immaculate garden and a gleaming white exterior. Only now it was littered with discarded plastic cups and people puking. Perfect. Sirius approached two girls sitting on the curb, who he now knew were Lindsey and Sarah. They were all long legs and tan skin, the kind of girls you see in magazines. Lindsey was waiting for Brad, her ex-boyfriend, to come pick her up, something Sarah seemed quite indignant at. She gave Brad a stern talking-to when he arrived, all spoken in furious whispers that Sirius couldn’t quite decipher. Then the truck pulled off and Sarah turned to him. “Guess it’s just us two,” she had said with a wink, leading him towards the pulsing rhythm of music and youth.
He woke up on Sarah's couch the next morning, wearing only his boxers beneath a threadbare blanket. His hair reeked of weed and cigarettes, and his head was pounding. Rubbing his eyes he glanced up to see Sarah smirking in the doorway, dressed only in an Eagles shirt and underwear.
“Big night last night?” she laughed.
“Do you like French Toast Crunch?” Sarah asked, shuffling through the pantry.
The pair ate in the back garden on a set of luxurious outdoor furniture. “Where are your parents?” Sirius asked through a mouthful of cereal.
“Europe,” Sarah answered, “but they get back this week so me and Lindsey are skipping town this afternoon. Her cousin has a place in San Diego. You should come.”
Sirius tried not to think about it too long before shutting her down. “I think my parents might actually kill me for that.”
Sarah hummed. “They give you that?” She gestured to his black eye. Sirius turned away, pressing his lips together in an exasperated smile. “They can’t kill you if they don’t know where you are,” she shrugged.
Sirius let the words settle in his mind. They were true. Still, “Reggie needs me at home. My brother,” Sirius clarified, shaking his head as though to detach the temptation.
“How old’s your brother?”
“That’s only a year younger than you, right? You’re not his keeper. Leave him a letter, a phone number, an address. Hell, tell him to come with you. Just do it by this afternoon, alright?”
Midday found Sirius picking the lock on his bedroom window, packing some clothes, CDs, old skate parts and other essentials in a dilapidated backpack. He slipped a note for Reggie under a loose floorboard, then made a break for the gleaming car out front, ducking into the back and watching the exorbitant house grow smaller.
Lindsey was sitting up front, still immersed in a rant about why Brad was an asshole and she never should’ve gone back to him. Sarah and Sirius were barely listening anymore, and had taken to making out in the backseat.
“Can you two stop swapping spit for two goddamn seconds?” Lindsey cried. Sarah pulled back, eyes hooded as she stared at Sirius for exactly two seconds, before pressing her lips back to his. Sirius laughed into the kiss. Distantly he heard Lindsey muttering her complaints.
They were passing through Torrey Hills now, and Sirius set about reading directions to Lindsey while Sarah rolled a joint. She offered it to him and he took a hit before offering it to Lindsey, who declined. “I hope you know that you’re not staying with us,” she called over her shoulder bluntly. Sirius turned to Sarah who shrugged before taking another hit. “There’s no space at my cousin’s place,” Lindsey continued.
Sirius rolled his eyes, snatching the joint. “Whatever. Just drop me at Mission Beach,” he replied. Lindsey scoffed and turned back to the road.
When they finally arrived at the boardwalk, Sirius couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and climbed out of the car, leaning back over the door to give Sarah a parting kiss. They had about two seconds before Lindsey floored it, and Sirius had to jump back to avoid getting his foot crushed.
People seemed to swarm the area, and Sirius found himself dodging bikes and unruly kids as soon as he entered the boardwalk. He maneuvered his way over to the beach wall, standing atop it and looking out on the patchwork blanket of colourful umbrellas and beach towels that covered the sand. It was overwhelming and exhilarating in equal measures.
He’d heard about the Mission beach skate scene from some older boys back in LA who had spent their summer driving up and down the west coast. Yet even from his vantage point, Sirius was yet to see any hoards of skaters. And so he started walking.
On his journey north Sirius had managed to steal a wallet and buy himself a corndog and a can of Coke. He made a mental note to try out the massive roller coaster he’d seen right where Lindsey had dropped him off, too. Everyone around here seemed to be on wheels, whether they belonged to rollerskates, bikes, or skateboards. He felt a twinge of jealousy, thinking of the splintered board that lay in the trash back home.
Sirius knew immediately when he had arrived at his destination. Doused in sun, alive with music and chatter, it seemed to vibrate with electricity. He climbed onto the beach wall, hissing at the hot concrete, and the boy beside him turned to look at him with a goofy grin, his bloodshot eyes meeting Sirius’s. He had straight blonde hair, unkempt and sun-bleached, and sat stout on the wall. “I’m Peter,” he said, extending his fist, which Sirius met in kind.
“Yeah,” he nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, haven’t got a board though,” he said.
“What, do you just slide around on your shoes?” Peter asked, sounding slightly genuine in his concern.
Sirius laughed. “Nah, my board’s just broken.”
“Shit,” Peter said. “Musta done something sick to do that.”
“Ay, Petey!” came a cry from across the way. Sirius followed the voice to a tall, shirtless man, covered in a light sheen of sweat, a World Industries board slung over his shoulder. His hair was curly and unruly, and he wore glasses fastened in the middle by some tape. He was tan, muscular, and altogether intimidating, and Sirius’s gut pinched as he approached. “Who’s this?” he asked Peter.
Peter’s eyes widened slightly, and he turned back to Sirius, looking at him quizzically. “Gimme a sec,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowing. “Sid?” he guessed nervously.
Sirius barked a laugh. “Sirius,” he corrected, offering a fist bump to the handsome stranger.
“James,” the man grinned. “Where you from, Sirius?”
“Northern California, just moved,” he lied easily. Technically Beverly Hills was north of here.
Peter cut in. “Dude, no, he broke his board doing this sick trick!”
James turned to Sirius with wide eyes, dapping him up. “That’s gnarly, bro! Wait, so you don’t have a board anymore?”
“Nope,” he said, not correcting Peter’s colourful take on their conversation.
“Dude I definitely have a spare at my place, we’re headed back now if you wanna grab it.”
Sirius hesitated for a moment, before breaking into a grin.
The three boys hopped in Peter’s car, and James began regaling them with stories from his day: friends he’d seen, tricks he was working on, and this girl he’d been convincing to date him. Sirius also learnt of James and Peter’s history of mischievous escapades, particularly how they had egged the house of an awful chemistry teacher they’d had in the ninth grade.
James and Peter lived in La Jolla, which seemed to be a pretty nice part of town. They were neighbours, in fact, and both of their houses spoke of quiet wealth, overlooking the ocean and consisting of two stories. As soon as they entered James’s place they were met with the scent of meat and spices on the stove. Sirius’s mouth watered.
“Jamie?” a woman called from down the hallway.
“Buenas mama!” James yelled in turn, leading the others towards the kitchen while speaking in rapid Spanish. There they found a beautiful woman who bore a startling resemblance to James, her eyes crinkling in the same way as his as she smiled kindly. “This is Sirius, we met him down at the boardwalk today.”
“Lovely to meet you Sirius, I’m Effie,” the woman greeted.
“Ah, you must be James’s older sister,” Sirius smirked, ever the flirt.
Effie laughed. “Smooth,” she said sarcastically, turning back to the stove. He looked over at James, only to be met with a cocked brow that seemed to ask, really? Sirius grinned, following the other boys to the garage.
James did indeed have a spare board, a Santa Cruz one from a few years back. Sirius tried a couple flatground tricks in the small space. It seemed sturdy and he managed to impress the others, so he was altogether satisfied. “Mind if I borrow it for a few days?” Sirius asked, unsure of what exactly James was offering.
“No worries, dude, you can just keep it,” James said, waving him off.
“Nah, I can’t take this,” Sirius said, eyes widening.
“Not like anyone else is using it,” James shrugged.
Sirius bit his lip in thought. “I’ll give it back when I buy my own one,” he resolved. “Thanks.”
James smiled. “It’s chill, man. Let’s go have dinner, I think mum’s calling us.”
Dinner was brilliant, and Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a hearty meal. Effie had made this beef and rice dish, accompanied by arepas and plantain– Colombian staples, according to her. Sirius also met Fleamont, James’s father, who served as further explanation as to how James became so genetically blessed. Not only was he handsome, but kind, and seemed to take a genuine interest in Sirius.
“So what sparked the move down to San Diego?” Fleamont asked.
Sirius chewed his food slowly, deciding on his answer. “Just wanted to get away, do something interesting over the summer.”
“Sounds like a good reason to me! And how old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Sirius said before he could decide whether to lie or not.
“Are you with your parents?” Effie asked.
“Uh, no. But I’m staying with some family,” Sirius said quickly.
“Oh, who are they? We might know them!” Fleamont replied excitedly.
“Yes, we know all the locals,” Effie affirmed.
“Oh, they’re pretty new to town. Just moved a couple weeks ago, and I think they’re still settling in.”
“Ah, well, let them know that we are always available to show them around,” Fleamont said.
“I’ll let them know,” Sirius smiled in return. James offered for Sirius to crash on the couch when dinner was over, but Sirius declined, wary of overstaying his welcome. Still, Peter insisted he drop him home, and so Sirius told him to leave him at the pier and that he’ll meet his cousin there. Though slightly confused, Peter obliged, leaving him just as he’d found him.
It was dark now, and the boardwalk had cleared out substantially. Sirius sat on the beach wall, watching the remaining skaters move up and down, too tired to join in. Eventually he decided to find some place to rest, wandering towards the beach, unfolding his towel and laying down. He looked up at the night sky hanging over him. Finding his star was second nature by now, and soon he found Regulus’s too. He wondered if the boy knew he was gone yet. If he’d found the letter. If perhaps someday he’d follow.
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