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"Who the hell is Madmax?"
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October 29th, 1984 7:00 pm
October 29th, 1984 7:00 pm
"Jay, Jay, you there?" Dustin's voice crackled through the radio, sharp and urgent.
"What's up?" I answered, grabbing the radio off the nightstand.
"What do you mean 'What's up'? Are you not coming to the arcade with us?" he asked, sounding annoyed.
"Oh shit, I forgot," I said, quickly tossing the radio back onto the nightstand as I jumped out of bed. Rummaging through my closet, I grabbed the first things I could find—an old shirt, a pair of jeans, and some shoes.
"Jay, call Mike and see what he's doing. He's not answering on the radio," Dustin's voice came through again.
Of course, Mike wasn't answering. He was probably still moping over El, refusing to admit he was in love with her. After she disappeared, he barely spoke about it, just kept pretending everything was fine.
"Michael Wheeler, do you copy?" I switched to the other channel.
"Yeah, yeah, I copy," Mike's voice was distracted, like he was trying to sound normal.
"What are you doing on this channel?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. He was gonna lie to me, and I wasn't buying it.
"Nothing."
Yeah, like I was gonna believe that.
"Dustin's trying to reach you. Go back to the other channel."
"Okay," Mike muttered, and I heard a beep, signaling he switched channels. I did the same.
I grabbed my hoodie off the hanger and dashed downstairs. I glanced briefly at my parents in the kitchen, talking about god knows what, but I just kept walking. I wasn't in the mood to deal with them.
Outside, I dropped my skateboard onto the pavement and jumped on, cruising down the street toward the arcade. The cool night air hit my face, and the faster I went, the more it felt like I could escape from everything. The wind whooshed past me as I built up speed, the world blurring around me.
I was getting closer to the hill. That downhill was coming up, and I was practically counting down the seconds. Once I hit it, I'd be flying.
The board picked up more speed, and I felt the familiar rush in my chest, the freedom of it. But as I neared the bottom, I started losing control—everything was too fast. I tried to adjust, but the board hit a rock, launching me into the air.
I landed with a hard thud, crashing into a bush in front of a house. I groaned, pushing myself out of the leaves, my hair full of twigs and dirt.
