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Click, click, click went the wheels on Jonas Stalk's skateboard as he rode over the lines in the whitewashed sidewalk. It was a balmy 97-degrees outside as the Californian sun beamed down, 87 in the shade. Jonas effortlessly popped an ollie over a puddle in the middle of his path As the tail of his skateboard snapped down and he took to the air, he briefly caught sight of his reflection in the glistening puddle below. His slender 5'7" frame was distorted by the ripples in the water, making him look like a painting. But he could still see the wavy black hair he always tucked behind his ears. Jonas was skinny, and certainly not to be confused with someone who played football. He had never really been into team sports. Jonas' unusually blue eyes and deeply tanned skin gleamed in the sun as his wheels touched down on the concrete with a thud and he continued on his way.

Jonas thought about skateboarding day and night. When he wasn't skateboarding he pretended his fingers were imaginary legs on an invisible skateboard. He grinded his binder, jeans, or anything he could turn into an obstacle. And When he wasn't doing that, he was daydreaming about about new tricks or new spots he could try the next time he skated. In fact, his parents often joked that Jonas had been born with a skateboard in his hand. This morning, however, he wasn't thinking much about his favorite sport. Instead, he focused on the dreaded task at hand: walking through the doors of his new high school.

It was Jonas' first day of school and he wasn't overly thrilled to begin his new life at Hollywood High as a sophomore.