Summer of 2004

Tyler’s old Nickelodeon Time Blaster showed 11:23 a.m. in green, glowing letters when he finally woke up. No sound of screeching school bus brakes, no Mr. Hildebrandt droning on about pre-algebra. No Megan bursting in, yelling “Tyler, waaake up!” and cannonballing onto his bed.

Just three perfect months stretched out ahead, lazy and endless. He was convinced that nothing felt better than the first morning of summer break, with all its possibilities ahead.

Tyler kicked off the NASA shuttle sheets, sticky from the Houston humidity even with the AC on, and shuffled to the kitchen in his oversized boxers and a faded Tony Hawk T-shirt. His JNCO jeans, the ones with FlameHead embroidered on the back pocket, still hung over his gaming chair where he’d tossed them last night after the last day of school.

Dumping a tiny mountain of Fruity Pebbles into a bowl with a few splashes of milk, he carried it to the living room.

Saturday morning cartoons were on until noon: Pokémon wrapping up, which meant X-Men: Evolution was next. He flopped onto the couch, crunching cereal, half-watching Ash chase another impossible catch.

Mom was already gone for her hospital shift and Dad was probably out in the garage, swearing at the old Chevy’s carburetor again.

A high-pitched beeping noise suddenly cut through the TV.

“No way,” Tyler muttered. The Tamagotchi he'd randomly found in the hallway on the last day of school was hatching. The screen flickered to life: a tiny pixel blob bouncing happily, the baby form ready for care. He mashed buttons to feed it, play the dumb number game, clean up its digital poop, filling up the happiness meter.

“Tyyyler!” Megan poked her head around the corner, saying his name in a sing-song voice she’d perfected in the years of annoying him. “Did it hatch yet??”

“Yeah, just now.”

“Can I have it? You promised I could have it when it hatched!”

He had promised, mostly because the thing beeped every half-hour and he had summer plans that didn’t involve babysitting a digital blob.

Tyler tossed the yellow egg Tamagotchi at her and Megan snagged it mid-air with a squeal of “Hi Gordo, welcome to the world!” before she disappeared down the hall.

His green and black NASH skateboard leaned by the front door, plastered with stickers on the bottom: Nickelodeon slime, It’s Happy Bunny smirking “You Suck and That’s Sad,” and several Astros & Rockets stickers.

Tyler called out, “Headed to the park!” to no one in particular.

He grabbed his board and kicked off down the driveway. The sidewalk radiated heat, and Houston in late May felt like standing next to an oven with the dial cranked all the way to eleven. Humidity wrapped around him like a wet glove, but he didn’t care.

Tyler ollied over a sidewalk crack and cruised toward Bear Creek Park four blocks away.

The crew was already posted up: Josh attempting kickflips on the quarter pipe, his technique aggressive. Eli was sitting on his board in the grass, scrolling through his silver iPod mini and no doubt listening to Green Day and Foo Fighters.

Kyle, meanwhile, was sprawled face-down on the concrete after eating it.

“Yo Kyle, you okay?” Tyler yelled out.

Kyle rolled to his side, grimacing and rubbing his elbow. “Duuude, that rail hates me.”

“Maybe stop trying to impress all the freshman watching,” Josh said, gesturing to a group hovering by the basketball courts, clearly looking on.

“Shut up,” Kyle muttered. They all rotated turns on the ramps for the next hour, trying tricks ripped straight from Thrasher magazine. The morning stretched out like Stretch Armstrong's flexible arms: no teachers, no pop quizzes, just wheels grinding concrete and sweat stinging Tyler’s eyes.

Before long, the distinct jingle of an ice cream truck floated down the street, a sound that made them all freeze.

“Hell yeah!” Josh yelled, bolting for the curb. The rest followed in a pack like hunting dogs.

The truck idled and they approached, eyeing the faded pictures of treats with a blue background plastered on the side. A bored-looking teen with sandy blond hair leaned out the window. “Hey, you dudes want anything?”

Tyler pointed straight to the green Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bar with Leo's blue mask, red gumball eyes already melting at the edges. Eli snagged a Bomb Pop and Kyle went for an ice cream sandwich, Josh the Choco Taco.

The four of them sat on the curb, legs dangling into the gutter, devouring their snacks. For a few minutes, nothing else existed.

Tyler cruised home around three, calves burning and hair matted with sweat under his helmet.

Inside, the house was cool and dim and he headed straight for the computer in the den. He flipped the power switch and waited through the boot-up.

He double-clicked the AOL icon and the modem screeched through its ritual, with beep-boop-bzzzzt, then brrrrrrr be bong be bong whirrrr.

Welcome. You’ve got mail!

AstroGrrrl281 was online, her username displayed first on his Buddies list. Manda had been his crush since last spring, when she’d been put next to him at the science fair with her project comparing standard pet store brine shrimp to Sea Monkeys. His heart practically skipped a beat and he flipped his hair back even though no one could see.

TylerSkates88: hey whats up Manda

Five minutes of staring at the screen, refreshing and wondering if she’d seen it. He temporarily opened a mini pinball game to distract himself.

Then she answered.

AstroGrrrl281: hey! not much, babysitting my little sister. hbu?

TylerSkates88: nice. just got back from the skate park

AstroGrrrl281: cool. u hear about the new album coming out?

TylerSkates88: lol which one

AstroGrrrl281: it's a new band, the killers. but they're SO good just from the single I heard

TylerSkates88: oh yeah?

“Tyler!” Dad’s voice boomed from the garage. “Get off that computer and come mow the lawn!”

“But Dad, I’m busy—”

“Right now, Tyler!”

He wanted to scream.

Instead, he typed: “gtg, talk l8r”

AstroGrrrl281: wait, i wanted to ask you something else... but i'll catch u l8r

Tyler logged off and trudged outside, the afternoon heat hitting him like a wall. What had she wanted to ask?

The yard wasn’t big, but the sun was still brutal and the mower kept stalling in the thicker patches of grass. By the end his arms ached, shirt soaked through with sweat, but he’d managed to cut a pattern of neat rows with the occasional zigzag where he’d gotten distracted thinking about what Manda wanted to ask him.

Dad surveyed the lawn from the garage doorway and gave a nod. Good enough.

Tyler raided the kitchen after and grabbed two packs of Gushers, a neon blue Gatorade, and a handful of Goldfish, then changed his sweaty shirt and collapsed in his beanbag. He loaded up Pokémon Silver on his Game Boy Color, an old classic, and picked up where he’d left off in Dark Cave, attempting to level up Quilava.

The smell of browning ground beef drifted up from downstairs. His room was directly above the kitchen and he could already tell what was coming: Hamburger Helper stroganoff, Mom’s go-to on her hospital shift days.

“Dinner in fifteen!” she called out.

Tyler saved his game and wandered downstairs. Mom was stirring the pan of browning meat while pasta boiled. Megan set the table, the yellow Tamagotchi clipped to her overalls on a sparkly pink carabiner, beeping every few minutes.

“How’s the little blob?” Tyler asked.

“You mean Gordo,” Megan corrected. “I fed him five times, and he’s pooped three times.”

“Wow. They grow up so fast.”

Dad came in from the garage, grease streaking his hands. He scrubbed them at the sink while Mom and Tyler plated dinner. The Poole family sat around the table, passing garlic bread and parmesan, forks scraping plates.

“So,” Dad said. “I’m thinking we hit Blockbuster after dinner. Grab a few movies?”

Megan’s eyes lit up and she banged her spoon excitedly. “Blockbuster! Blockbuster!”

Tyler nodded. “I’m down.”

“Good.” Dad leaned back in his chair. “Oh, and Tyler, before I forget. You’ll be sixteen soon, and it's time to start thinking about getting a summer job. Your mom and I won't be paying for skate gear forever.”

Tyler’s stomach sank. A job? During summer break!?

“We can talk about it later this week,” Mom added, sensing his panic. “But your dad is right hon, you should think about where you might want to work. Nothing too intense, we were thinking a few days a week to start."

Tyler pushed his Hamburger Helper around his plate, appetite suddenly gone. He’d been planning the perfect summer: skating, gaming, swimming, chilling. A job wasn’t part of the plan, not in the slightest.

“Blockbuster it is,” Dad said, oblivious to Tyler’s spiral.

Tyler took another bite, forcing himself to focus on the immediate: Butterfinger BB’s from the checkout counter, renting a game. Maybe logging back on to AIM later to see if Manda was still on.

Outside, the sun dipped low, streaking the Houston sky in orange and pink like melted sherbet. Cicadas buzzed louder in the cooler air as the heat finally broke.

All he wanted to focus on tonight was Blockbuster and snacks, and forget about the impending summer job looming over everything.