Read Roadkill (LiveWire) for Free Online

forward, thin little face a mask of spite. “You shut up you loser. Miss I can’t even get a decent boyfriend….oh! I’m talking to you bitch.”
    I ignore her, surprised at my own defiance, and luckily the pro skateboard team, led by a sober looking Ashley, erupt onto the ramps in front of us. The grinding roar of wheels, clouds of hot dust, and yells from the crowd indicate we are forgotten.
    “What did you do that for?” Leo hisses, with a quick backwards glance.
    “What?” I am impatient for his information, Anita forgotten.
    “You know…wind her up. Just means she’ll be even more of a bitch later.”
    “Whatever. She might even leave us alone! We’re not at college anymore. Another month and half the kids here will be gone. University, travelling….hey if we’re lucky Anita might even head off to Australia.”              
    He gives me a long disbelieving look, and returns to the screen, “So look, this is the main home page, with the menu tabs at the top, but if you click (okay, okay!) on the sword and moon icon at the bottom it takes you to another page.” Leo looks expectant.
    “Oh my god, these are their blogs. Quick, where’s Rose’s? Jeez these are like diaries.” The commentator is introducing the pro boarding team and the lads (only one girl) are spinning and twisting in gravity defying stunts. I am speed reading, some of the blogs are pretty intimate, all the details, not only of the LiveWire dares, but also stuff about boyfriends/girlfriends.
    “Whoa, too much info!” exclaims Leo, pointing at the top entry for ‘AllyFive’. He is almost blushing.
    “Can’t see Rose. Ouch!” A latecomer hustles past with two lurid pink smoothies and jogs my coffee.
    “Annnnnd here’s Matt Amos. Northern National Champs last year, and off to Canada in September for the Festival. Red Bull sure missed out on this boy!” The commentator is working it, and the mainly all girl crowd are busy trying to catch the eyes of the pros, flashing legs, and skimpy crop tops. Ratz ramps up the volume and the bass beat shakes the rickety wooden stands.
    Distracted for a second I look up in time to see Matt swooping through the air, performing a double somersault and flying up the other side of the ramp. As he finishes with a seemingly endless leap across the obstacles, totally disproving his laughing dismissal of pro status last night, a tiny spark ignites deep in my belly. I hastily force my eyes back down to the blinking screen.
    “Fancy him do you?” It’s Leo, giggling and nudging me.
    “No.”
    “You so do. I saw you eyeing him up at Paul’s party at Easter. He’s cute, you should go for it. Hell I would!” This last is said in a naughty whisper and I crack a smile.
    “She isn’t here,” I say with disappointment, after a prolonged study of the blogs.
    “Don’t give up so easily, look I found Kelly again,” Leo pulls her blog up and I read about an endless round of beach parties, crazy LiveWire dares in the Santa Monica mountains, and her ambitions to be a model or actress. Just a regular all American girl.
    I smile again, in her energy and enthusiasm she sounds a lot like Rose. I can see why they messaged each other. “Wait, if they were messaging and Rose did have an alias can’t you find it?”
    He taps deftly, frowning as a list of names flashes up on screen. “Got it! Look Farlan. Weird name. It links to Rose’s hotmail account.”
    Pain stabs me like an arrow in my heart, and the heat of the day, the roar of the excited crowd, fade to background noise. I am ten years old again and my big sister is filling out an entry form. One of the hundreds. I forget what it was for; gymnastics?
    “Rose is a boring name. You know when they announce you coming out, and everyone looks just at you?”
    I didn’t but I nodded anyway, swinging my legs, and drawing animals on my sketchpad.
    “I want them to remember me,” she chewed the end of her biro, black hair sleek in a high