Chad

"I'll see you at the skate park, Ron." I said into my phone and hung up.

When I looked up, I saw Chris staring at me with chocolate covering his grin. There were traces of chocolate on his cheeks and even on his ear.

He wiped his mouth with his hands – which were also greased in chocolate and asked, "Can I hide in your voom?" He glanced back as if there was an alien behind him.

I scanned my room for anything dangerous – maybe a test paper in which I failed or something.

Nope. All clear.

"Sure, just don't touch my stuff with those hands – or with anything for that matter." He nodded excitedly and crawled under my bed.

"Um, Chad, what is this?" He asked from under.

Oh no. Please tell me didn't see that.

"I told you to not touch anything, Chris," I grumbled as I shoved my phone in my pocket and picked up my skateboard. Slamming the door shut, I went down.

"Bye, mom! I'm skating."

I paused before going out of the house.

"Oh, and Chris is definitely not in under my bed in my room. Don't bust him too much." I winked and skated off to Ron's house.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Hey, Ron," I said as I skated towards him, taking his bro-fist.

"You think you can beat Brad this time?"

"Maybe. I've got to admit, he's been practicing hard for the past few weeks – at least that's what he texted me."

Ron chuckled, "Now what – are you going to bow down to Brad as if –"

"I dare you to complete that sentence, Ron."

"Uh, no I'm good."

"Good."

Pro tip: when you can't think of any insults, stick to a mean face and a deathly threat. Of course, that only works if you're Chad Parker.

We skated to the park where I could finally do some moves without a baby on my back.

"Ollie over that rock and flip onto the slope." Ron challenged.

"With pleasure," I smirked and jumped over the rock on my skateboard. Now, how on earth am I going to even jump on the ramp?

I shrugged, giving it a shot – knowing that I would fall.

You guessed it – I fell.

On my head.

With my skateboard slamming on my knees.

My tip to you: Don't go jumping on ramps if you can't handle it.

Ron started laughing because he probably didn't know my head actually started bleeding and that my knee caps were red.

The wound was stinging my skin and my head was pounding hard.

Ron grew serious when he saw me wince in pain. He came close to get a better look at my head.

"Oh my –" he uttered a string of pleasant words while tearing a piece of the hem of his shirt as he tied it around my head.

"You didn't have to prove that your head is cracked, Chad. I already know that."

"Damn it. My head hurts when I speak." I mumbled, clutching the piece of cloth around my head.

"And you're telling me that?" He asked, to which I blankly stared at him.

He sighed and asked, "How do I get you to the hospital, now? Your losing blood and that cloth won't help much."

I tried to shrug my shoulders, but it came out more like I was dancing with pain.

"Shoulders! I can carry half of your weight on my shoulders and you can place your legs on my skateboard!" He said, sounding excited.

Oh no. Just imagine two teenage guys on one skate board – one of them is close to dying.

We were the only ones in the skate park and I didn't see anyone we could ask for a lift.

I tried getting up and stood weakly before Ron. I rolled up my pants to see if my knee caps went through any damage.

When on earth did my skin color change to red.

It's confirmed, everyone: I'm officially an alien. And a red one.

At the hospital

I blinked open my eyes to see Chris, mom, Ron, and Brad.

Brad?

I jerked up from the bed.

"I'm the ghost of Chad Parker!" I yelled, but collapsed back into th bed, because if the impact.

I always wanted to do that.

Dizziness took over me and I closed my eyes, blacking out.

^a few hours later.^
"Chad, are you alive?" I head Brad's voice.

"I'll always be alive to torture you, Brad," I said, slowly sitting up straight.

My head hurts so much. I hope it doesn't damage my comeback system or my pun system. Anything but those.

"Howareyoufeeling, redhead?" Brad asked.

I almost choked on my spit.

"I'm good. What happened to you?" I asked raising an eyebrow but dropping it as soon as I did because my head hurts a lot.

"Nothing. I thought I won't have anybody to insult." He shrugged.

"You can always go insult a mirror." Yes! My sass system was not damaged.

"Your brain is damaged, Chad. I think you should give talking a rest." I don't know if that was an insult or his concern.

"Besides, you should know that you can't spell stupid without 'u'. " He said.

"Well, there is an 'I' in stupid too!" I said, my voice getting louder.

I winced as soon as I said that and clutched my head.

Brad just stared at me. He blinked twice.

Darn, my speaking skills are seriously damaged.

"So, it looks like you can't come for the skating competition, huh?" Brad said

"Yeah, you'd probably win this time," I said.

"I'm not going if I don't have a good competition." He sighed.

I tried moving my knee to see if I broke any bone there.

"You're not allowed to move," Brad grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Sadly, he is right. Every muscle I move makes me wish I didn't have them.

"The doc said you need rest." He said, going out of the room.

I tried to wonder why on earth Brad – of all people – came to see me.

But my head hurts every time I think of anything, so I just closed my eyes.