bells_will_ring

Gwen’s been careful about letting too many people close since she’s come back to Darrow. Her memories of her time here before had come back fully within the first couple of months, but her memories from home still hadn’t faded: she’d been ostracized, bullied for being an occultist weirdo and the younger sister of the kid who murked The Grabber. She’d been lonely, but unwilling to change that. Ernie had been her closest friend, and more and more she’s pretty sure that’s just because he’d hero-worshipped Finn so much — or maybe that’s just distance making her insecurities easier to rear their insidious fucking heads.

The point is, she’s been careful about letting people close. There are the usual suspects, of course: Neil, Dan, Marcus, Joel, Daniel. They’re all still here. John and Martin are still here. She hasn’t frozen them out. She’d even kinda opened up with Bill a little. But strangers? Even Ruslan she’d started distancing herself from, which feels shitty because she thinks they’re kind of friends. But after losing Ellie, still barely recovered from losing Hilde for all that she’d given Bill shit about it, she’d locked down again.

And now, well. Now she’s trying to change that.

It’d started with these two girls. Gwen had seen them around before — she remembers kind of pitying them in their ripped up jeans and too-large flannels, like maybe their parents couldn’t afford good clothes — but she’d never really talked to them until she saw them reading one of Neil’s books. They weren’t making fun of all the sex and shit in it, they weren’t acting all scandalized that someone had written about the shit he’d written about. They’d been discussing it, like a little emo book club.

Grunge, she’d later learned. That’s their clothing style. It isn’t because they’re poor, it’s completely intentional. Gwen didn’t get it, but she’d put on a cropped graphic tee over a ragged-edged denim skirt, ripped-to-shit black nylons, and pulled a black plaid flannel over top and tied it under her ribs, and she’d felt more like herself than she had in fucking months. Her hair has started growing out, mostly because she hasn’t bothered going anywhere to get it trimmed, and Keisha likes to put styling shit in it that makes it look all tousled. The first time she’d done it, she’d asked Gwen about the scar on her forehead.

“Ax murderer,” she’d replied, and Keisha had narrowed her dark brown eyes at her and then said, “Fuck it. Okay, big baller.”

It’s Mel that’s into skating. She wears knee pads over her ripped jeans and elbow pads, and she ties her flannel around her waist and just fucking goes. It looks so fucking choice that Gwen asks one day to try it.

And, look, Gwen’s done a lot of shit. She’s fought ghosts, she’s solved murders, she’s left her own body, she’s nearly died, and she’s left her reality and come to a completely impossible future reality twice. But skating? Skating feels like flying.

The problem is, she fucking sucks at it. But Mel insists that’s part of the whole process. Gwen has to suck at skating before she can be good at it, before she can be great at it.

So she’s at the skatepark now, using Mel’s board and pads as she works herself up along the halfpipe… and then back down, no fancy trick or anything. Just rolling up, and then rolling down, letting herself get used to the feel. Mel and Keisha have both fucked off to wherever, but it doesn’t feel personal. Gwen’s pretty sure they’re just convincing some random older teen to buy them cigarettes while Gwen isn’t lingering nearby looking like a narc. (She’s not a fucking narc, but anyone shady enough to buy a pair of sixteen year old girls cigarettes probably wouldn’t believe her if she said it, anyway. Gwen’s more concerned that anyone shady enough to buy a pair of sixteen year old girls cigarettes might also do something to those girls, but Mel keeps saying she isn’t worried about it, so Gwen tries not to, either.)

(She knows at least three people who’d kill anyone who tried, so, that helps.)

Her thoughts distract her enough that when she kicks off against the ground, she gets too much momentum too fast.

“Oh, shit,” she says. And then she decides, fuck it. Lean into it. Fucking fly, Gwen Blake. She kicks again, harder, thrusting the board toward the ramp of the halfpipe. She tries to remember what Mel’s taught her. Both feet flat. Don’t lean back. Bend the knees.

She goes up, up, up, reaches…

And then the board leaves her feet and she yelps as she grabs for the lip of the halfpipe. It at least stops her from free-falling back down and landing on her ass. She slides down instead, her shirt riding up and giving her a nice little friction burn before she rolls off her side and rides the rest of the way on her ass. Once she stops, she just lays there, spread-eagle on the composite. She’s not hurt, just mostly embarrassed.

At least nobody was around to see it.

Right?

[ Totally be there to see it! I know ‘skatepark’ is kind of a niche location for an EP so feel free to come up with literally any reason to be there XD day or night for maximum ingress. Welcome to Gwen’s GRUNGE ERA. She’s no longer hiding her forehead scar and dressing a LOT different than she usually does. Open to all! ]