As I sat on my bed, my ankle still kind of hurt, but it kind of
just washed away because he was there. I didn't care that the ice
 pack was leaving a huge wet spot on the sheets or the fact that it
 would be impossible to walk for a few days. Then he looked up at me
 from his trance in fixing up my ankle. 
	"Well, I think we'll be able to save your leg. You'll live. Just
don't try to do gymnastics or anything in rollerblades anymore, K?"
"OK. Thanks again for helping me down here. I would've sprained
my other ankle trying to get down here by myself!" I rambled on.
"Well," he continued, still trying to sound professional, "just sleep
good tonight. And no sleepwalking! I mean it!", he grinned. I couldn't
help it. When he smiled, I just had to smile too. "So, I'll see you
tomorrow if I live through the night?" He stumbled on his words.
"Well, we kind of have a performance tomorrow at 10. Maybe I'll see
you after that, cause we have to leave around 7." "Hey, no prob, I'll
go! Where is it?" I was really anxious to see them perform again. I
had a feeling they got really  great sound when they were hooked up
to mics, but not as good as just playing normal. 
	"Umm, over at that bar, oh what's the name! Oh yeah,
 Justin's. Out in front at 10 until 11 I think. I guess we might be able
 to fit you in the van." My face lit up, "I'm there dude!" I said in my
 best Butthead voice.  "Well, I gotta go. Hafta get rest!" he mumbled.
 "OK, tomorrow!" "Yeah, bye. Feel better!" Then I remembered my
 ankle."Oh I forgot! OK bye!" He let himself out.
	I could hear him upstairs, messin around with my little bro. I
couldn't help but think back about how well things had gone in the
past few days. They were great, everybody here, especially him.......

	I was just a normal kid, almost 13, a total music addict,
 argues with my parents, you know, normal. One day in the beginning
 of June, me, my parents, and my little brother and sister were eating
dinner. Then, I got the worst, or best, news of my life. We were
moving. My dad was getting transferred. But, luckily, he got a few
choices of where to move.
	 "Tulsa! Dad, we can move to Tulsa!?" I begged. "Well,"
 he struggled, "it's a little far away don't you think?" "No way!
 PLEASE can we move to Tulsa!" "Well, I guess so. We'll have to-"
 "Great!" I cut him off and ran down to my room. I was soo hoping to
 go back to Tulsa. My best friend moved there a few years ago. I
 went down to visit her the year before and that place was the
 coolest. But then she moved and I never got her new address. So I
 hoped maybe I could find it. And, I got this really cool album there
 that I couldn't find anywhere else. 
	That night while I was trying to fall asleep, I imagined what
 it would be like there. Of course, I would be the new kid again, but I
had a feeling this was going to be different. School would have to be
better there, because this school was so boring and the teachers
 were ancient. I couldn't wait! 

	About a month later, we were loading everything off the
moving trucks and into the new house. It had two stories and a
basement, so I chose the basement because it was HUGE and I
 could do practically anything I wanted to it except write on the walls
 with lipstick and nail polish, that's what I did to my last room! The
basement was COMPLETELY unfinished, all it was cement walls and
strings attached to lightbulbs for lights. Not even doors! Perfect! I
chose the corner that didn't have a window in it and decided that's
where my bed was. The walls were covered in dirt and so was the
floor, but I'd fix that. My grandmother had just given me a raggedy
old mop so I could get everything off the walls. 
	A few days later, I was taking a break from fixing up my
 room, so I went outside to shoot some hoops because we had a
 b-ball hoop on the garage. I heard this loud skidding noise and it
 scared me, so I jumped and my shot totally missed the net, and it
 went over the house. So I ran around to the backyard. But, when I
 was going back to the front yard, I heard voices. When I got back,
 three boys, about 10, 13 and 15, were trying to play basketball in MY
 front yard with one of my brother's basketballs, on rollerblades! They
 were stumbling around, fighting for the ball, and laughing so hard I
 was surprised they were able to stay up. They looked so funny I
 almost started laughing. 
	Then, the youngest one saw me and yelled "Wanna play? I
mean, is it OK if we play?" I noticed he looked almost exactly like my
little bro. Then, the other two looked at me. The middle one, who
looked like he was about my age, blushed. The oldest one
automatically started apologizing. "Oh, we're sorry. One of the balls
rolled into the street and we were going to put it up but-" he didn't
get a chance to finish. "No, it's OK. Actually, it's kinda hard to play
by yourself. I'm glad you showed up. I don't really know anybody
yet. I mean, we just moved in last week." "Great! Let's go then!" said
the littlest again, getting into the competition. "I can beat a girl
anyday! Bring it on!" he said, dribbling the ball around the driveway.
"First, I have to know your names! We can't play until I know the
names of the first people I beat here.” ” Ladies first!" the middle one
blurted out. He seemed interesting. He had hardly said a word, while
the other two, especially the little one, had been blabbering on. "Fine
then. Samantha, but my friends call me Sam." "OK Sam," the middle
one said, "I'm Taylor, I guess". "I guess?" I asked. "Well, that's what
everybody calls me". "Isaac, er Ike". "And what about the little
 one..." I glanced around the yard but couldn't see him. Then
 suddenly from behind me "Zaaaac" he burped out. I jumped like a
 mile high. "You little-" I screamed and chased him around the yard,
 with the other two trailing behind.

	We never really got to play a whole game of b-ball. After we
got into the big chase, we pretty much just roamed the town. They
showed me the best stores, food shops, hangout places, the works.
Then I asked them where they went to school. "OK!" Zac said as he
raced down the block. Ike & Taylor had taken their blades off after
the first few hours, but Zac kept his on, even though every five
minutes he started complaining that his feet were about to fall off. "Is
he always this hyper?" I asked. "Well, unless he's real tired or in a
bad mood." Ike explained. “But yeah, he was born hyperactive."
Taylor had said like five words all night. It was about 9 now and I
knew he couldn't be tired. I looked over at him and he was just
staring at the ground. Ike nudged me so I looked at him & he
mouthed 'talk!' So I jumped in. 
	"Taylor, so you guys are a band?" He glanced up at me,
 then gave Ike an 'why'd you do that?!?' look and looked back down
 and said "Well, kind of. We get gigs now and then all over. Just a
 few weeks ago we had a little performance at a fair in Kansas. We
 pretty much play whenever we get the chance." "Can I see you guys
 play? You sound like you're real good." Then, suddenly, something
 clicked. "Did you guys ever release an album?" I questioned,
 knowing I was onto something. "Yeah" Ike said. "I think it was only
 released here. It was called Boomerang. Why?" Suddenly I
 felt almost as hyper as Zac. "Omigod! I just noticed this! I have it! I
 came down to visit my friend last year & I bought it! I haven't stopped
 listening to it since then! Kewl!" "Oh, really!" Tay seemed twice as
 alive as I'd seen him all day. "That's so neat! Well, we could give you
 a little sample of our new album, MMMBop, if you wanted."
 "Sure!" I said.