Results Of Teenage Suburbia

Swimming in the Rain Shane Nicholas 01.24.09

Jake James Sullivan 3521 Ridgefield Ave., Joelfield, CA 9754 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Jake Sullivan, Successful, achievement-driven, (and accomplishing) resultsoriented, adaptable, tactful, boundless, productive, receptive, reflective, shrewd, efficient, skillful, dynamic, resourceful, thrifty, instinctive, industrious, impartial, zealous, vivacious, lovely, brilliant, adorable… ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------“Oh don’t be so modest.” “I’d approach at a more humble angle, but I believe in truth in advertising.” “You’re hilarious. ‘Naturally left-handed?’ You’re putting that on your resume?” “Well, only like ten percent of people are. I assume that gives me some uniqueness points against the righties.” “OK, what about ‘graduated Cum Laude?’ We’re not even Seniors.” “Pre-emptive journalism. I’m not going to send in the application right now.” “And if you don’t graduate cum laude?” “If I don’t, then it wouldn’t make much sense to apply for Harvard, now would it?” “You’re applying for Harvard. Do you even know where Harvard is?” “East Coast.” “Boston. Now where’s Boston?” “East Coast.” “Massachusetts.” “Whatever. I assumed the address would be on the brochure.” “Good luck with that.” “Feeling contemptuous?” “A little. Though your description of yourself as a self-proclaimed ‘sex machine’ made me laugh.”

“It keeps them reading the paper at least. I’m thinking a lot of resume’s get skipped simply from unoriginality. I mean colleges don’t really endorse monotony. I’ll put it on the list of things I need to tweak.” Audrey rolled her eyes, and fell into the chair next to Jake’s. “Do you need any help?” She asked, her eyes scanning down the empty ‘Refer To’ list. Jake looked at her, and then followed her line of sight. “Ah, that. I’m hoping to get that signed when I tour their campus,” he said, saving the document to his desktop. Audrey bit her lip, and pushed a red hair out of her face. “You’re going to get Harvard Professors to vouch for your credibility?” “I’d think that would be the best option since I’ll be there for a while.” “I think that section is meant for teachers and principles or something.” “Yeah, but they’d be biased. If the acceptance letter guy sees that a bunch of his school’s professors think I’m great and want me, I’m bound to get let in. In this World, it’s all about who you know.” Jake said triumphantly, cracking his fingers to the air, Audrey winced slightly, yet smiled despite herself. “I can’t really deny the logic there.” She said, holding a laugh. “Hey, that’s just what I’m thinking,” Jake said, shutting his laptop closed. Taking a quick glance to his wall clock, he pulled his backpack close, threw a groping hand into its depths, and pulled out his cell. “It’s about five, should we call Alex?” Audrey grimaced slightly, sighing loudly. Jake laughed, and tapped in the number. “You really don’t like the guy, do you?” “It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that he creeps me out. Everything is literal with him,” Audrey said, shaking her hair out of her eyes. Jake smiled broadly. “If he takes you too seriously, just tell him you’re screwing with him.” She looked at him oddly, and then the look of reluctant realization took form on her face. “Very clever,” Audrey said through pressed lips, getting out of her chair. She stood up, yawned, and fell onto the bed behind her. Jake grinned, and sat beside her, pulling the receiver up to his ear. “Alex, get over here. It’s five,” Jake yawned into the phone. He snapped it shut, and tossed the phone in the general direction of its charger in hopes that he’d remember to plug it in later. Audrey rolled on her side to face Jake.

“What are we going to do exactly when Alex gets here?” Jake shrugged. “Hang out I guess. Watch a movie, play darts, pretty much just bide time until tonight’s game. Alex didn’t have a ride, so I told him to come over and we’d all go together.” Audrey nodded. “I guess I’ll live. Tonight will be one for the books at least,” she said, smiling a bit. Jake grinned. “Ha, remembering the last game? I’m surprised we didn’t get caught. Actually, I’m surprised people still wanted to play after that.” “Well why not? We all got away,” Audrey laughed, pushing her hair out of her face again. Jake nodded in acknowledgement, though was obviously lost in the memory. Jake remembered the night well enough; it was night, but the Santa Anna winds kept the night warm and the skies clear, allowing the moon to keep everything bright enough to see. It was at the high school, long enough after service hours where any excuse about a lost sweater or iPod would float in the waters just as well as the brick they used to bash the lock off the gates. The game was simple enough. The guy who either drew the short straw or who the group unanimously dislikes the most is granted the title ‘finder.’ The finder is given a flashlight and the task to shine light on everyone he sees. Everyone else just avoids the light, all the while texting each other the current positions of the finder. By the end of the night, if the finder finds less than half the hidden people, they lose, and must spend the night at the school. Despite the risks, the game was widely accepted by Jake’s friends; the only opposition came from the chances of meeting Mr. Crabbit. Mr. Crabbit was the school’s security guard. He was a fat, balding man, whose only defining characteristic was his aspiration to be a real cop. If this means bringing out the hand-cuffs for even the most asinine crimes, then Crabbit would gladly hunt down any gum-chewer or j-walker. Jake and Audrey had seen him tackle a kid for swiping a lunch from the cafeteria line without paying, and they could only imagine what force he’d use on trespassers. Reports to his superiors were hardly ever addressed properly; the responses ranged from ‘then don’t break school code’ to none at all. While this did create a sense of unity between the ‘trouble’ makers of the school simply by shared animosity, the disapproving

nature of the students did little to quell his aggressive-disposition; on the contrary, Crabbit seemed to use their animosity to justify excessive use of force. It was a catch-22 in this sense; he wouldn’t be an ass if the kids gave him respect, and the kids would probably grant him that respect if he wasn’t an ass. Despite this however, Jake had trouble shifting any blame away from Crabbit, considering he shouldn’t have been in the first place. The last time they played their game at the school, old-man Crabbit did find out about them, though not necessarily who, how many, nor what they were doing. The Crabbit was skulking around the school with a flashlight at the same time the finder was out looking for kids as well. Alex, who was on the roof during the game, watched the incidents that played out from above, hardly stifled his amusement. The finder, Jon, still unaware of Crabbit’s presence, went on as he would normally, checking every alley and behind every vending machine, while Crabbit, equally unaware, unintentionally followed Jon, checking near all the same places along the way for balls to bust. Alex, now in control of himself, sent out a message to everyone; not one telling them that the Crabbit was here, no that would have ended the game; simply to watch out for a second flashlight. Receivers of the text just assumed that someone joined in to help Jon out, as he had yet to find anyone. The night went on without a hitch, and eventually the finder reached his half-way mark, ensuring his freedom by the end of the game. All those found then took refuge under the arbor, and talked idly until Alex was found and brought to the holding area, where he nonchalantly asked if anyone had been caught by Crabbit yet. The response was generally predictable; they all brushed him off under the belief he was being facetious, until, appropriately enough, the Crabbit himself came into view. Flashing his light on the arbor long before he was close enough to distinguish a face, the Crabbit let out some illegible threat or warning, then jogged toward them. Alex, who just then realized the Crabbit could make his life hell if he was caught, spun around to dash, and nearly crashed into the side of the arbor before being pushed out of the structure by the mass of kids trying to make their own way to the exit. Jon, who was making his rounds back the arbor with another capture, first only saw his prisoners running across the field to one of the campus’s exits. He raised his hands to mouth to call them back, when the captor he had with them pointed excitedly at

the second flashlight beam that was coming from Crabbit. Jon, who only managed to make out the first syllable before seeing Crabbit, quickly stopped himself, and fumbled to turn off the flashlight, inadvertently shining it in the direction of Mr. Crabbit. “Hey!” was all they made out of Crabbit’s growl before Jon and the other followed the arbor kids’ line of thinking, soon joining them at the campus exit. Audrey, who was behind a tree nearby during the whole exchange, subtly slipped from her hiding spot to join the fleeing crowd. When they all finally decided they were free from Crabbit’s grasp, Audrey announced that she was texting the remaining kids what was going on. However, despite her best intentions, the warning fell on deaf ears, as she forgot to hit send. The group, convinced that all loose ends were then tied up, split up and made their ways to their own houses. Meanwhile, Crabbit, bitter that he had missed such an opportunity to put kids up for judgment, reluctantly left the campus, though locking all the exits in the process. Jake, who was among the kids still hiding, stayed in his place, unaware of the Crabbit incident. He remained hidden for another half an hour before he finally stood up and looked for the finder himself. His efforts fruitless, Jake finally texted around, with only the other hidden kids responding. They all agreed to rendezvous at the arbor, where they all shared similar observations; all the gates were locked, the finder was gone, and so were more than half the kids. Finally, after outbursts of ‘They ditched us!’ ‘Why did they close the gates!’ and ‘Those jerks!’ (and other less-than-pleasantries) subsided, Jake opted to try to get the Crabbit to let them out. The response was unanimous; a question to Jake’s ‘sound’ mind.