Mainstreet
By Al Zervos
Intro
They call me shadow walker. I’m just playing, that would be gay. I mean really gay. I’m talking extremes. Anyways I live in Lakewood Ranch, Florida. If you’ve been or live in Lakewood Ranch you probably know about Mainstreet. If you don’t then you probably A. Have no life B. Live in a hole C. Don’t live in LWR or D. all of the above. I’m just gonna tell you from now that this book isn’t no diary of a wimpy kid. Go see for yourself, flip through a few pages. This book is about a twelve year old, made by a twelve year old. This is what we think and about some of the stuff we do, and if you were wanting a book about middle school like diary of a wimpy kid, then I advise you take this book back or not to read it. This is book may be a little offensive and have a little bit of swearing. Ok I lied, a lot of swearing. But hey that’s what twelve year olds are like.
Mainstreet is a place for just about almost everything, like nights, fights, dates, movies, banks, pranks, skanks, shopping, eating, drinking, music, money, jobs, and just chillin with your friends. At Mainstreet on every first Friday of each month there’s music at main. Everybody goes to music on main. And when I mean everybody, I mean everybody. You know Jocks, preps, bitches, brown nosers, losers, popular people, weirdoes, clowns, drunks, gangs, molesters, and normal people. On first Fridays they close up the rode within Mainstreet, so parking’s usually filled up. Luckily for me I can walk out of my backyard and be there within 5 minutes.
I’m a six grader in middle school; I’m 5ft 10 and weigh 135 lbs. I have brown hair and hazel eyes. I have a pretty muscular physique. I was born in London Ontario, Canada but moved to Florida when I was three. Both of my paternal grandparents are from Greece. I hang out with the class clowns and the trouble makers. I, myself are a little bit of both. I’m very intelligent though with an IQ of 136. Most of my friends are dumb shits but, I have a handful of smart friends. My best friends are Devin Marsden, George Gonzalez, Ethan Wolfson, and Alan Joel. Anyways, I’m just gonna let you start reading the book. Oh and by the way most of these events have happened.
Part 2
Mainstreet
Ch 9
“Dude I can’t believe you spit on him,” George said as we stepped off the bus. “Well he’s a gay douche bag,” I responded. “Here let’s hide our backpacks there,” I threw mine in a bush. George did the same. Mainstreet was just up ahead. Behind our backpacks was a wall to another neighborhood. George grabbed the edge with his hands and kicked up. I followed. We already herd the music from here. He started climbing really fast. “Dude, spider-bean slow down!” I said trying to keep up. We got far though. When we got to the end of the wall I jumped down. I saw him leap behind a bigger wall.
I jumped up and grabbed the edge. I pushed myself up and saw him below. I jumped below. There were a bunch of shells on the ground with a fence and a lake behind them. There were also some piles of bricks and tiles. An old bench too. “So we’ve got an hour to kill. What do you wanna do?” I asked. “Wait you use to take tae-kwon-do right?” “Black belt bitch,” George said proudly. “Ok try to axe kick the bench,” I dared him as we approached it. “Ok.” He replied. George crossed his left leg over his right then lifted it up and snapped it down. The first and second bar of the bench broke like twigs. Impressive. “Nice!” I exclaimed as we high fived. “Your turn,” George said. Easy, just focus all of your energy into your right leg. I closed my eyes and made and unnecessary karate yell.
I raised my leg high and brought my heel down on the bench. If I didn’t tell you already I wear a size 13 shoe. The third and fourth broke in half. “Yeah!” I jumped and did a dance. That’s right bitches. “Hey George help me throw it over the fence,” I said as I grabbed one end. “Ok,” He responded as he grabbed the other. We lifted it up and threw it over. “Yeah! We’re fucked!” We started singing. “Why won’t you answer me? The silence is slowly killing me oh yeah!” My phone rang. It was Layla. I waited. “Who is it?” George asked. “Layla,” I responded. “Why don’t you answer it? Don’t you have a huge crush on her?” George asked. “Yeah but trust me it’s all part of the plan,” I lied. Truth is I didn’t know what to say to her and I just wanted to do what comes along. “Or,” George teased. “Your balls haven’t dropped yet and your trying to avoid her. Or you really enjoy having a pussy,” He was right, except for the part about the genitals. “Dude, that’s a lie!” I defended. I bent down and grabbed a stick.
He did the same. “Sword fighting, really? That’s so lame,” George said. “Psh. Yeah so lame,” I replied. “Wanna sword fight?” George asked excitedly. “Yeah, so much!” I shouted. “En garde!” I tried to hit his arm but he parried and hit my rib. “Agh!” I cried. “Dude are you ok?” George asked concerned. I swiped him in the knee. “Haha!” I laughed. “So that’s how you wanna go?” George asked. We clashed sticks and after twenty minutes we got tired and bruised. “Wanna just hit our sticks together?” George panted. “Yeah,” I wheezed bent over.
