Pretty Fly for a White Guy

--- Call to Adventure ----

I tightened my Supreme shoulder bag around myself and took a deep breath as I hopped on the skateboard for the thousandth time. Ok. On. Great start. I flexed slightly as I caught sight of myself reflected in the glass of the windows to the tennis club nearby. I grinned. The thousands of dollars I'd invested at Stowaway, the pop up skate store next to my usual sneaker store on Cuba street was totally worth it. I looked awesome. No one had steez like me. Totally worth queuing up overnight, despite what my friends had said. We'd had a whole stupid argument about why exactly my $200 white t shirt was way fucking cooler than the 5 for $100 everyone else seemed to get at AS Colour and honestly their dumbass opinions were totally off base because I looked way fucking slicker than they ever would and...

Ok, so checking myself out when I was struggling with the skateboard at the best of times was kind of dumb, and I swore as I realised the board was going faster than my body. I caught myself before I totally KO'd, awkwardly stumbling off and-

I heard laughter and whipped around. Ah, shitfuck. It was late, and this wasn't a skate park, just a field near my house so I'd thought I was safe. I caught the eye of some guy, who was sitting on the fence peering at me from under his cap, smoking with a can of Kingfisher in his hand.

"Do an ollie!" He shouted at me. I rolled my eyes and grumbled to myself. I'd fucking show him. I mean. One day. I grabbed my board and went to move myself along. Maybe I could practise in my driveway... only then the lads might see and since I'd already boasted I could actually, you know, skate, it would be pretty fucking embarrassing if they caught me. I glanced over my shoulder as I heard a board, and before I knew it, this short little asshole making fun of me was standing in front of me. I glared at him.

"Buzz off." He laughed.

"Want a beer?" He offered, gesturing back to the six pack he'd abandoned by the fence. I shook my head and clasped my board closer to my chest. He glanced at it. "Sick board." He nodded. I grunted. "Shame you don't know how to use it."

"Fuck off." I muttered, feeling myself grow panicky. I ducked my head and tried to storm away faster, but he was keeping up with me, lazily watching me as he skated alongside me. "I said fuck OFF." I moved to shove him, but he jumped off his board dexterously and avoided me.

"Woah." His eyes widened. "Sorry dude. Only joking."

"You wanna go?" I glared at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"No?" He said. "Uh, I was gonna offer you a beer and teach you how to use that thousand dollar baby." He shrugged and started to skate away. "But that's cool, man. Sorry." I paused as he drifted back to the fence and watched him as he pointedly hopped on the railing. Asshole. I hugged my board tighter and headed home.

--- --- ---

I peeked around the corner carefully the next day and scanned the football field and the tennis club, and seeing no one I sighed with relief. Ok. I could do this. I'd watched the youtube tutorials. I hopped on my board and found for the first time I was actually making headway- like moving forward for more than a couple of metres without feeling that shaky sense of imbalance I usually did. I grinned and popped my headphones in and put on Wale. I was trying to get into hip hop. That's what all my friends listened to. I hadn't even realised my music taste was so fucking embarrassing until I'd been in charge of the aux at a party a few months ago and I was still geting shit for my apparently terrible 'white boy' pop.

"Alt rock!" I'd argued drunkenly.

"Weezer is DAD music!" Kerry laughed at me. "God I bet you secretly listen to Smash Mouth!"

"What's wrong with Smash Mouth?"

"Ugh what's right with it?" I felt myself blush remembering. But actually I totally could get down to some real music right now. I'm trying with cool hip hop, but it just never makes me smile in the same way. And there was nothing THAT wrong with The Offspring right? Not at fucking all. I paused Wale. It's not like there's a flashing sign above your head when you have headphones in, anyway. If there was I'd probably try harder to like the right stuff but.... No one had to...

"Hey skater boi!" Oh no. I reluctantly looked up to see that guy from last night. He'd ditched the cap and had an absolute mess of curls hiding his tanned face. Fucking god dammit. I HAD to learn to skate by the weekend. We were planning a day out by the zoo in Newtown and I was gonna look pretty fucking stupid after all my boasting. I winced. Maybe I could sprain my ankle, save myself the shame. I frowned at him and tried to puff myself up. I'm definitely physically intimidating. I work out, and I take a lot of protein... I even managed to get my hands on some Test Mutant, which Oli said would shrink my dick, but I'd told him I had spare anyway. Which I don't because I'm BANG on average no matter where I measure from... but who even needs a big dick? You know, most women can't even cum from penetration. Uh. I've heard. Truth is... For all the sex I've told people I have... I uh... sort of don't get it. Honestly? Girls kinda scare me. I usually fuck it up way before I get them home, which actually, is probably good... because, actually, if I'm totally honest- I think girls and my dick aren't that into each other. Maybe I'm asexual. I get all nervous and horny but put a girl in front of me and the little guy does absolutely sweet fuck all. Just another thing I've had to perfect the art of lying about.

I swallowed as I looked at him.

"Could you leave me alone?" Ugh. I sounded whiny. I cleared my throat and stood a little taller and went to say something a bit more threatening but he stopped and looked at me thoughtfully.

"I'd love to, but it's genuinely breaking my heart that your board is going to waste." He said. "Come on, let me teach you how to skate, big guy." I bristled. Big guy. No way he didn't mean that in a super condescending way. But- well. He could skate. And I definitely couldn't. I twisted my lips and he read my mind. "I'm no Tony Hawk but I have a few tricks." He grinned and held out his hand good naturedly. "Archie." He said. Huh. Cute name. I felt my cheeks grow pink. Cute NAME? What was I on? I shook his hand awkwardly.

"Felix." I cleared my throat. "AKA skater boi. Though as you've noticed, it's not my strong suit." Archie laughed.

"Oh there IS a sense of humour under all that Stussy." He grinned. "Which is half your problem. You have to fall off to get good and I'd hate for you to scuff those kicks." I sighed and looked down at myself. He was probably right. Part of not wanting to fall off was definitely sort of not wanting to tear up my clothes. That's a catch-22, though, because I wanted to look cool when I skated and I couldn't look cool in lame clothes, but I couldn't get good while I was wearing them... "Here." He kicked off his shoes. "Must be about the same size." I shook my head.

"Oh, no..." Because a) that's gay as fuck, and b) I could already see his feet were at least two sizes bigger than mine. I pursed my lips. "Ok wait." I guess I already looked like a loser. May as well be a loser who can skate properly. "I live round the corner. I could get changed and..."

"Ka pai!" He grinned. "I'll wait for you." I nodded and took my board and quickly dashed home. I changed into an old t-shirt and jeans and grabbed some Vans that were falling apart and after a minute of hesitation, headed back to him. Stupid idea, I thought to myself. Why do you even need this guy? I was pretty sure I'd get the hang of it eventually. But I was out of places to practice if he was hogging the fields- like what was I gonna do, cruise around the neighbourhood getting in everyone's way? Head to an actual skate park and have like a million eyes on me watching me fail? It was the best option I had right now.

I watched him by the tennis club fences for a second on my return. Damn. He was crazy good. He looked awesome, moving like he was liquid, and no matter where or what he did, his feet hit the board everytime, like he was magnetically driven towards it. The sun was going down and the light was almost making him glow. He had such a soft easiness about him. I sighed. That would totally be me one day. And I'd even be able to do it in nice clothes.

"Hey hypebeast!" He called to me as he spotted me and I raised my hand half heartedly. He looked me over as he stopped next to me and started laughing. "You HAVE to wear Supreme?" I rolled my eyes and showed him the back of my t-shirt.

"COFFEE Supreme." I explained. "I work there."

"Oh sweet, barista?"

"Mmmm." I grunted. "Training and stuff." He grinned.

"Oh no way!" He sat down and pulled a couple of beers out of his hoodie and launched one at me. "I'm in for training next week! Think they were like 'well we can't fucking fire you because we'd lose our kaupapa wananga'- I guess being Māori comes with some benefits sometimes... Will it be you?"

"Probably." I looked at him thoughtfully. "You a barista too then?"

"No, no!" He grinned. "I make the worst coffee in Wellington!" He laughed. "I can never do the ..." He gestured with his hands, like he was pouring milk, and I could already see what his problem was if he held a milk jug like that. I smiled. "I work at Neo." He told me.-

"Oh, okay, sweet." I looked dubiously at the beer in my hands as he cracked his open. "Thought we were... uh.... Skating?" Archie laughed.

"You need to loosen the fuck up first." He said. "Never seen anyone so tense." He drew his shoulders up by his ears and pretended to flex his almost non-existent muscles, puffing out his cheeks. I laughed.

"That what I look like?" Archie grinned at me.

"Well, until you catch your reflection. Then it's more..." He straightened his back and duck pouted at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Someones been watching me way too closely." I grunted. Archie stretched out and smiled.

"Well, you don't work out for no one to watch you, do you?" I felt my face go bright red and opened my beer quickly. He cackled as he saw my face. "Although probably hoping it was a hot chick huh?" He teased me ruthlessly. "But instead you get a little twink who's owning you on a board." I gulped down some beer and frowned at him.

"Twink..." I said slowly. "That's like uh..." Archie rolled his eyes and gestured at himself in mock pride. Hmm. Twink was a gay thing right? I couldn't tell if he was like... actually... or if he was just teasing me. I swallowed. Either way, he was probably my only hope of not looking like a turd next weekend. Archie smiled at me, sensing my discomfort, and sipped on the beer.

"So first." He said firmly. "We loosen up. Then imma get you used to the board. You gotta really love your board." He said. "Right now your board is some ataahua babe you don't have the nerve to talk to at a party, but you're gonna pull some moves on her tonight and when you go home she's gonna feel all empty and hopes that you guys can take it to the next level..." I laughed.

"Uh-huh? Does this end with me fucking my skateboard?" Archie looked lovingly at his own board, which was kind of beat up and had some artwork I didn't recognise on the deck.

"Oh it's so much more than fucking." He said. "It's a deeply invested romantic thing." He patted his board. "We're saving each other for marriage." I giggled. Kingfisher has the highest alcohol per can you can get, everyone knows that, and it's dirt cheap, and two and a half sips were already fucking me up after a long day.

"Am I invited to the wedding?" I asked. Archie shook his head.

"No posers policy, sorry." He sighed. "But maybe if we can get you up to speed. Alright, drink up, hypebeast." I rolled my eyes and we nattered away about work- how Covid was affecting our industry and what we did for fun. I let him talk. He was better than me at holding down a conversation and I'm still working out how not to betray how deeply uncool I am deep down.

See, after highschool, where I was kind of chubby and into musicals and basically shat on by my entire year, I'd decided to shed, like, everything that made me me. The first thing was to lose the weight, which actually came off kinda easy once I'd ditched five sodas a day and comfort eating. I embraced comfort work outs instead. Every time someone gave me a funny look or made a mean joke that was another hour at the gym, thinking I'd fucking show them. The second thing was ditching every hobby I'd ever had. They were doing me no favours, I don't know why I'd ever been into them actually. All through high school I was keenly aware I was a nerd, and I liked girly stuff. So no more girly stuff. I turned my nose down and the books I used to read, and the plays I used to go to, and replaced any 'extracurriculars' with a strict schedule of drinking beer and going to gigs I couldn't stand. Maybe one day I'd like six-60, if I just kept at it. The third thing was to drop out of the performing arts school I'd auditioned for and go and get a normal degree. I spent the last two years half arseing a major in English Literature, because it was the easiest thing I could do to make my Dad happy. I actually thought a BSci would be better, but the truth is there was no way I could hack it. English Lit was something I was good at, and it was just on that line between acceptable and unacceptable. I figured it was a major step up from Toi Whakaari at any rate.

I got a job for Coffee Supreme because I'd been working as a barista through my last years of high school and got pretty good, actually. So now I spent most of my time working for the roastery and shredding then bulking at the gym. I'd made some friends through work, who I moved in with last summer, and life was a never ending series of parties with cool people, and new designer drops, and pretending I was good at rock climbing and fishing, and all the things that were second nature to my new friends. It turned out I liked a lot of it- adventure sports are actually awesome when you're not like 50kg overweight, and when I made a weird awkward embarrassing reference from media I was SO not meaning to tell people I was into- a lot of my new friends seemed to find it sort of funny in a not way too mean way. They always joked I was a secret nerd, trapped in the body of a dumb jock. Little did they know. In high school I once stayed up all night reading Twilight. On my OE I travelled to New York just to see Wicked on Broadway, and until the last couple of years my REAL hobbies were singstar and campy D&D sessions online... eh. That Felix was dead. THAT Felix was always sad and had no friends. Felix 2.0 was doing fine. Rest in peace old Felix. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Archie got me up, and back on the board, and he held my hand for ages while I learnt how to balance properly. Eventually he started pushing me to move faster, by myself, and after falling off the first time I realised it wasn't so bad, and I let myself fall off a hundred more times. By the time the sun was down I was... passable. I couldn't do any tricks but I could go in a straight line, and then even in a circle. I had skinned knees and skinned knuckles and probably a host of bruises, but I kind of liked that. It made me look tougher. Archie grinned at me.

"Amazing progress!" He high-fived me. I laughed. A high-five. God he was an idiot. "Same time tomorrow?" I shrugged. I had nothing better to do. I mean, I had an assignment but I was actually really good at English. My friends all thought it was a miracle I wasn't failing my degree with the lack of study I did, but I'd very intentionally chosen papers I wouldn't have to think too hard for. English was easy. I'd read the whole syllabus in High School and I liked debating it in my tutorials- even though I seemed to be wrong about things, like, a lot... I dunno- I guess I didn't mind the feeling of like 'Woah, I never saw it that way!'. It felt like my brain was exploding. In a good way. I think my tutors all liked that about me, maybe. So even with a barely started assignment due in two days I knew I'd scrape by. I definitely needed the practice here more.

"I'll bring the beer." I suggested. Archie nodded and sat back on the fence.

"On that note." He grinned and pulled two more out of his hoodie. I rolled my eyes and sat down with him again. "Smoke?" He offered. I wrinkled my nose.

"Anyone ever tell you those are bad for you?" Archie widened his eyes.

"They are?!!" He looked at them in mock disgust. "Dammit! Well I better smoke them all really fast." He said. I rolled my eyes.

"You know, chicks hate cigarettes." I said. Archie clutched at his chest.

"Say it ain't so!" He wailed. "Oh God, now I'll NEVER fuck a woman!" He raised his eyebrows at me. "No drowning in pussy for poor little Archie, not like you eh Fee?!" I hit his shoulder gently.

"Apparently it makes your cum taste shit." I said. Archie choked on his beer.

"Now how would you know that, e hoa?" He widened his eyes and I laughed.

"Oh fuck off." I said.

"Does pineapple juice cancel it out?" He asked me faux seriously. "You're obviously the expert." I rolled my eyes.

"Fuck offff." I whined. Archie laughed.

"Well, I'll do some experiments." He said. "Let you know."

"Please don't." He grinned and we went back to drinking beer and talking about nothing in particular.

----

By the weekend, after some surprisingly awesome few nights hanging with him drinking shit beer and sometimes learning to skate I was competent enough I decided my ankle wouldn't be sprained for our weekend plans, and I was so relieved I invited Archie to join us. He winced and turned his head to the side.

"Are your mates like ummm..." He looked thoughtfully into the distance, thinking about his words carefully. "Are they the hypebeast jock type like you?"

"What?!" I laughed. "I mean... I guess, but fuck off Archie." He shrugged.

"Probably not my kind of thing." He said apologetically.

"What? They're my FRIENDS, weirdo, what are you worried about?" Archie pursed his lips.

"I'm worried that they make dumb jokes and call me a faggot behind my back." He shrugged.

"What?!" I laughed. Although. Point taken. Over a week I'd worked out Archie was, even if he never said it out loud, probably gay. Not like he checked me out, or made it weird or anything, he just... Huh. I dunno. He had something about him. I've always been good at picking out gay guys, don't ask me how. I didn't ask him. I didn't need to. Why would I care? Archie was one of the funniest people I'd hung out with in ages. Buuuutttt.... I'm not convinced my friends would feel the same way... And even if he wasn't, and even though he drank like a six pack a night and smoked a million cigarettes, the more I thought about it the more I could see he maybe wasn't gonna fit in. He's just not a lad. Actually, he'd probably hate my friends. They're loud, and we can be kind of unwelcoming, and we all act like fucking apes around each other. No room for sitting on a fence smoking and talking to each other. I blushed. He'd probably hate ME if he hadn't met me like this. Archie shrugged.

"Thanks though." He said. "I'll see ya Monday."

"Huh?" I sort of assumed, now that I could skate, I'd move to an actual skate park to get better, not hang around the Miramar rugby fields.

"Coffee training." Archie reminded me. "I'm your 9 o'clock."

"Oh true!" I smiled. "Sweet." We fist bumped each other and I trudged home. I was glad I was gonna see him again. I would have missed hanging out with him. He was just so easy to talk to, and he was so fucking good on his skateboard- I knew I'd never be as good as he was. Sometimes I'd just pause and watch him, admiring the way he looked as he... admiring the way he MOVED I mean. Like on the board. Like you know. Like he was really good. That's what I mean.