Twister scored a goal after goal. A jerk of the hockey stick, and the puck went into the empty goal. After this puck went the next, and the next, and the next. Twister didn't count them. He didn't even look; he only heard the clang and kept on mechanically skating around and scoring goals.

The time of Otto's absence was now measured in weeks. Otto was constantly either working, or training with the school hockey team, who chose him to play for them in a major competition in another state, so plans always got ruined. Things had already been hard because of the secret nature of their relationship, and now they were...

"Lame." Twister muttered, dropping his hockey stick, and wandered home.

The early summer was lame and didn't seem to get better soon. He went upstairs, locked in his room, took his phone and headphones and fell onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling — that could be the sky; he was all alone — could be holding hands with Otto; he was lying there, feeling down and exhausted — could be tearing waves and ramps. But everything lost its taste, when the precious auburn red hair got out of sight. Twister could not even listen to at least one song up to the end. He was constantly changing them with irritation: come on, something had to help him right now!

Finally, he gave up and put his music on shuffle, letting surf rock mix with punk, hip-hop, and indie. His intrusive thoughts wouldn't let the songs pass anyway. Sure enough, he was upset. Terribly upset! Why couldn't Otto spend with him at least an hour or so? Why did they meet each other only during the gang hangouts, which became seldom as well, and Twister's visits to the Shack (but then Otto would shoot off because of another order or delivery)? Yes, Otto had previously told that he would be really busy, but...

Why was it so hard?

Twister closed his eyes and hugged himself — who else could do that now. He looked back at his usual weekdays in the last couple of months:

The school hallway, the noise, the people, people around, people in front of and behind him, people everywhere — they go and wander, they run and hustle, they chitchat — and there's a familiar hand that drags him away. The two hide in the dark under the stairs; desperate, their fingers entwine, cling, squeeze, so tight, so tight... the touch makes the hearts pound and the legs shake, their lips meet, frantic, quick, quick, so nobody would see. Before they know it, they have to run from each other, to find themselves amidst the people in the noisy hallway, to walk, to run, to talk...

"Hi, Reggie! You up for the lunch?"

"So, how is your test, Sammy?"

"Eddie's got a new face paint again! That's crazy."

"Hey, Conro- I mean, good afternoon, Mr. Blank."

And stuff like that. But one day, a new line was added by Otto to those usual talks.

"I'm training late today, so don't wait for me."

The truth was that Twister could not stop waiting. He missed him so bad that it hurt. Suddenly, the music stopped playing, and the phone vibrated: Sam was calling.

"Yeah?" Twist replied drowsily.

"Hi, Twist, are you going to Madtown today?"

"Is Otto going?"

"No, I've already called him."

Twister kept silent for a while, then answered, "I'm not going."

And he hung. Again, he lay there, spread-eagling on his bed, but just in a few minutes somebody knocked. When he opened the door, there was Sam.

"Sam, I told you!" Twister snapped.

But Sam replied friendly, "Come on, you really need to catch some air!"

He handed Twister a skateboard and gave a kindly smile, looking expectantly at him. Twister sighed heavily in response; hesitating, he accepted the board and left the house with Sam. Sam felt glad because, otherwise, he wouldn't have anybody to hang out with, for Reggie was always somewhere else with her female friends and Otto was... not there. However, his gladness couldn't last long: while he was grinding the rails, skating the bowl and even getting much air on the half-pipe, Twister sadly trailed behind him, not even trying to compete.

Eventually, when Twister stopped in the middle of the pipe and near fell off his board, Sam came down to him, saying, "What's up, Twist? I can tell something's wrong with you!"

"Oh, nothing serious," Twister sighed, but his mournful look said the opposite. He stepped off the ramp and skated slowly towards little stairs; Sam followed him. Together they sat down on the steps and kept silent for a while; Twister wasn't even looking at Sam. A bit hesitating, the latter went for a question.

"Is it somehow related to Otto?"

Hearing his name, Twister shivered inwardly; in that instant, he felt as if his heart were gripped by a phantom hand. He put a great effort to nod his head, without a word.

Sam gently put his hand on his shoulder and asked more, "Would you like to see him, or you'd rather not?"

Twister gulped, silent. He had no idea what to say. He wanted to see Otto, madly wanted, but apart from the others. Even if Sam looked so perceptive, Twister wasn't quite sure if he could reveal him the secret of his relationship with Otto. He also wasn't sure if Otto needed him that bad, because, driven by his ambition, he just left Twister all alone and would only phone him in the evenings to chat about his upcoming trip and to complain how tired of his work he was. It seemed like Twister needed to forget about Otto for a while and just do his thing.

Anyway... anyway, Twister said, "I feel like grabbing some pizza with grapes. Let's head over the Shack?"

"You have a great taste in food!" Sam said with approval, and they skated off, chasing each other.

However, Otto wasn't at the Shack on their arrival; no matter how hard Twister would peer into people at the tables, he could not spot his boyfriend. Tito brought the guys their desired pizza; watching them devouring it, he couldn't but comment on this.

"It seems like you cuzzes are so exhausted you can't even sense the taste of food."

"What are you talking about, Tito?!" they both cried in unison, lifting their heads off the plate.

Sam added, "It's exactly the divine taste that made us order this pizza."

Stunned, Tito stared at them but didn't say anything.

A bit later there came Ray; he noted with satisfaction, "See, Tito, the guys like my special recipe!"

"That's because they haven't tried my pizza with coconut custard yet!" Tito countered, then turned to Sam and Twister, "By the way, you want to taste?"

The boys shook their heads vigorously in response, and Raymundo slapped Tito on the back with a laugh; the latter glared at him and folded his arms.

Having chewed the last piece, Twister turned his gaze towards Ray and called him shyly, "Raymundo... I have a favor to ask."

Raymundo gave him an expectant look, as he leaned against the bar.

"Go ahead, Twister."

"Could you... could you arrange a day off for Otto? I never… I mean, we never see him!"

"But you guys meet every day when you come here," Ray said incredulously.

"Yes, but..." Twister stuttered. He didn't know how to contradict him. There joined Sam.

"In contrast to how it used to be, we spend disastrously short time together. Otto is constantly either working, or training. We're worried that we may lose contact with our best friend."

Twister silently thanked him for these words — he would not phrase it so well. Raymundo started to think, and a little hope sprang within Twister. But Ray's answer disappointed him.

"There's no need to worry about Otto — he doesn't forget you. He's just all over the competition and focuses his energy on it. Well, you know him. Yes, I could as well just give him the money for the trip when he asked, but I want him to earn it by honest work, to know the worth of money. And I'm glad that my son understands me and is working hard for his dream."

"Speaking of the devil," Tito noted. Twister and Sam turned their heads at the same time and saw Otto swiftly skating to them. Swiftly as well, he stopped, sprang up to the bar and threw the cash on it. Raymundo began counting the money, while Otto, panting, greeted his friends.

"Hi, Sammy. Hi, Twist."

"Hi..." Twister replied sadly. Otto met Twister's gaze; his face seemed to have showed some kind of understanding. He was just about to say something, but there came Raymundo.

"Great! Now I need your help in the kitchen."

"I'm coming!" Otto responded readily and followed Ray without even a backward glance.

Twister slapped himself on the forehead and told Sam, "Sorry, gotta go."

"But Twister!" Sam tried to protest; however, Twister had already got on his board, then skated off. Sam sighed with a sad face and laid his head on the bar.

Seeing this, Tito showed his compassion, "Looks like there is a storm in Twister's heart he keeps silent about."

"I guess so..." Sam replied wistfully. He sat straight again and went on, "You know, Tito, I'm now getting the feeling that everybody's got something going on in their life, and I'm in the dark on this. As if our gang were not so close the way it used to be, and the guys hid something from me, didn't trust me and each other..."

Sam fell silent for a few seconds. Then he asked in a quiet voice, "Tell me, is there any Ancient Hawaiian saying that would fix things by miracle?"

Tito gave him a kindly smile.

"My young friend," he started, "The Ancient Hawaiians had indeed a lot of wise sayings, but they didn't describe all the hardships of life in metaphorical language. And, unfortunately, just a saying itself won't help."

Hearing that, Sam got even more upset — that wasn't the kind of answer he expected. A thought crossed his mind that even Tito, the self-designed philosopher, was no longer what he used to be.

In that instant, Tito added, "Though I could still remind you of one simple fact."

"What fact?" Sam gave him an expectant look.

"After the storm, there is always the calm. And the weather is bound to get better."

Tito gave Sam a conspiratorial wink, and the latter, thinking about what had been said, smiled.

"Thanks, Tito," he said in a more optimistic manner. "I hope it is really so."

Twister was woken up by a phone call. Half-awake and half-asleep, he looked at the screen, saw the name, and it took his breath away for a second; in that instant, his drowsiness was gone.

"Yes, Otto?" he said.

"Twist, you won't believe me!" Otto began in a brisk manner. "My training is canceled for today, and I'm suddenly free after my work and- and- I mean, do you have any plans for tonight?"

"No plans!" Twister reported.

"How about going to the movie you wanted to watch?"

"You're kidding!" Twister cried. He didn't really care about some damn movie anymore; the most important thing was that, at last, he could be alone with Otto, for the first time in this screwed up June.

"Then I'll meet you at the cinema at four o'clock, don't worry about the tickets!" Otto rattled off; then he lowered his voice to add, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Twister replied quietly as well, so that only Otto could hear him.

The call ended, and Twister lay back with a huge smile on his face, rewinding this short conversation in his mind and dreaming of the evening. He even squeezed his pillow in a fit of excitement. However, at the same time, an apprehension crept into his mind that the plans could get ruined again. No, no, no, not that! May everything be alright! He shook his head to clear his mind and got off the bed for the purpose of taking a shower— though it was early in the morning, he felt that he could not fall asleep again.

That was a real long time to wait – Twister was twisting himself up in knots all afternoon. He got dressed and ready too fast, in spite of choosing between his best T-shirts and sneakers; after that, he had nothing to do. Twister went out when it was only three o'clock; he hoped to kill the time by skating around. Impatient, he was skating across the nearby backstreets for a whole hour, constantly watching how many minutes he had yet to wait. At four o'clock sharp, to the nearest second, he had already been at the cinema, sitting on the bench, his arms around his skateboard. He kept on glancing at his watch almost every minute.

At four and two minutes he thought, "It doesn't mean anything, Otto will be here."

At five minutes, "He's rushing there!"

At ten minutes, "Keep calm! To my family, it isn't even being late."

At quarter past four: "Otto isn't really accurate, but he's very fast. He'll come running in the blink of an eye!"

At four and twenty, Twister became really anxious, because the movie was about to start in ten minutes. Otto still wasn't seen anywhere, no matter how hard Twister would peer into passers-by. Right in front of him, a couple ran to the ticket window with a ringing laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw those two hold their hands behind their backs. He got upset.

"What's the matter, Ottoman..."

He shook his head. Then he suddenly slapped himself on the forehead. He realized that he could have called Otto long ago. Silently scolding himself, Twister dialed his number and waited for a response.

Meanwhile at the Shack, a black Motorola flip phone was ringing off the hook. But it was never meant to be heard because it was buried deep down in the bag that lay in the kitchen, and the owner was at the moment hurrying from one table to another to collect dirty dishes, as he tried to withstand the avalanche of new orders and never-ending complaints. Tito and Ray hardly managed the bar; they both looked crazy — try working in this mode all day long!

"Where's my ketchup?!" a bald-headed man yelled, as he angrily pounded his fist on the table, while Otto was passing by.

"Wait, please!" Otto answered, hardly holding the tray with lots of dishes in his hands.

Somebody on the right began insistently tugging at his sleeve; irritated, Otto turned to see that there was an old man, who wore round glasses and had a long beard.

Angry, the old man grumbled, "You forgot that I asked you not to put crackers in my salad and you put there a whole bunch of those darn crackers! Don't you see that I can't even chew them well?"

Just don't eat them, you shoobie!

The reply near escaped Otto's lips, but he controlled himself, ignored the complaint and went on his way. He wanted to go faster, but either people in the queue, or customers, who were constantly coming and leaving, blocked his way at every turn. Suddenly, something little yet heavy smashed right into Otto; the next second, the only thing he could hear was deafening clatter around him.

"Aw, I'm sorry!" the girl exclaimed, as she got up from the floor with her skateboard.

Seeing what she had done, she dashed away. Buried under broken dishes, Otto hardly managed to get up, bursting with rage and irritation. Seeing what happened, worried, Ray hurried to his son to help him.

"I. Can. Not. Bear it." Otto said through gritted teeth, emphasizing every word.

He and Ray collected the dishes, broken and unbroken, and took it to the kitchen. There Ray looked at the clock and realized...

"It's five o'clock already! Sorry for this, Otto, you can go now. You'll get your money for overtime, don't worry."

"What do you mean five o'clock?!" Otto yelled, clutching his head.

From the outside was heard Tito's desperate yell, "Raymuuuundooo, help!"

"I'm coming, Tito!" Ray yelled in response and ran away, slamming the door.

Right away, Otto grabbed his bag, taking his phone out, as he went; seeing the number of missed calls, he rushed headlong to the back entrance, from which he skated off as fast as he could. He seemed to have gained his peak speed while dashing to the cinema, but he didn't care about it, as all he cared about was Twister. Just like Otto thought, Twister was not there. He clenched his fists and skated away, overwhelmed by fear and anger at himself and the circumstances. Twist must have already gone home, so Otto decided to go there, too.

Twister was not hard to find — he was sitting right on the asphalt at his fence, his headphones on and his phone in the hands. Otto slowed down in the middle of the cul-de-sac, making much noise; hearing this, Twister took off his headphones right away, but he barely moved, as if being bound. Otto jumped off the board and rushed to him. Right after getting at Twister, he hugged him, not hesitating for a second, but his embrace was unreciprocated.

Realizing that, Otto unfolded his arms and asked in a cautious voice, "Twist, is everything okay?"

Twister faced away, pretending not to see him.

"Heeey..." Otto said slowly, as he attempted to take Twister by the hand, but Twister snatched his hand away and moved over.

In that instant, Otto felt as if his heart dropped down. That was so… painful, unfamiliar.

"Listen..." Otto tried to appeal to Twister.

"I'm listening," he replied surly.

"Today the Shack was flooded by all those shoobies, Ray, Tito, and I went almost crazy of their rumbling, I didn't hear my phone because of that and also because it was lying in the kitchen, and I was outside, and I couldn't look at the clock 'cause I was extremely busy with all those stupid orders and complaints... and I really, really wanted to come..."

"That's a great story. Only, I've heard it too many times. Any other excuses?" Twister sniffed and stood up, obviously going to leave.

Otto snapped. "What do you mean?! I'm not lying, Twist, I swear! Ask Raymundo then, if you don't trust me!"

"I have no doubt in your honesty!" Twister raised his voice. "And that's not the point anyway!"

He quickly turned and walked away without a specific direction — he just did not want to be here.

Otto ran after him with a loud question, "Then what is?!"

Twister kept silent, adamantly walking into nowhere.

So Otto blocked his way and completely lost his temper, yelling, "Hey, Twist, what the hell?! How am I supposed to know what exactly I did wrong, when you're not telling me?"

Twister shuddered from these words and looked up at Otto. He was about to say something but fumbled for right words; all this while, Otto was glaring at him, his arms crossed. Finally, Twister decided to pour his heart.

"Otto, I just can't stand it! You're always off working, or training, and because of that we never see each other, though I know that in case you couldn't miss your training, you could've at least snuck out of the Shack, if you really wanted to! All we talked about this month was your competition, your job, your trip, your training... I mean, yes, we've always talked about it, but- but- it wasn't like that! Back then, it was fine! And, man, I hate that feeling, I... miss you."

The last words were almost silently mouthed; after that, Twister faced away.

"Why are you being like this?" he added quietly as if into the void. Otto kept silent, pondering over these words.

Then he started, "Do you know why I'm constantly working?"

Without waiting for a response, he continued, "I wanted to make quick work of it. I asked Ray and Noelani for money, but they refused to give me it for nothing, so I thought I would earn the money as soon as possible to spend the rest of my time with you. But, as always, things didn't go as planned because of all those shoobies, and I didn't know how to refuse to help Ray, as I was the one who volunteered for working overtime."

"Otto..." Twister stared at him, defeated. Then his tone suddenly became reproaching. "Man, why didn't you just tell me?!"

A faint smile on his face, Otto shook his head.

"Don't even ask. I don't know either."

He came closer to Twister and put out his hand towards him.

"So, will you forgive me?"

Twister met Otto's eyes and smiled, reaching out his hand as well.

"Woogity, woogity, woogity!" they chorused while making their handshake. Then they entwined their fingers and held their hands tightly. In a fit of passion, Otto reached for Twister's lips but all of a sudden realized.

"We're right in front of the windows of your house!"

Twister anxiously looked back and said, "Oh, right!"

So they stepped away, closer to the Rockets' house, where they hid in the shade of a tree. There they locked each other in embrace, tight yet tender, and threw themselves into a kiss, so long-awaited and passionate; every single little move and touch showed their before-suppressed longing for each other.

Caressing Otto's hair, Twister whispered, "You know, Otto... you were right. Maybe we really need to tell Reggie and Sam."

"Are you sure?!" Otto asked, barely disguising his surprise, and lifted his head off Twister's shoulder. "But you wanted to keep it a secret..."

Twister shook his head.

"Just because of that secret I had to be sad and lonely for almost a month! And now- right now, let's go and confess! Even if it costs us our lives..."

Saying this, Twister shivered: he was actually torn by fear and uncertainty.

"Dude, you sound like we're criminals!" Otto chuckled, but after thinking a bit, he added seriously, "Though our love is a real crime in almost all countries... man, how do we tell them?"

"Just relax, guys."

Twister and Otto sprang back from each other and turned their heads towards where the voice came from. There was Reggie, standing at the open window of her room and looking at them from the top.

Twister stared at her, his jaw dropped, and Otto asked in a confused manner, "Reg, you... watched us?"

Reggie rolled her eyes.

"I had to! You were practically yelling!"

The guys were stunned, standing there without any idea of what to tell her, so Reggie had to take control of the situation.

"Wait, I'll come down."

She disappeared from the window and came down just in a matter of seconds. Having come up to Otto and Twister, she cleared her throat and asked, "Am I right thinking you're seeing each other?"

Silent, Otto and Twister nodded, and Reg said, "To be honest, I didn't know for sure, but I'm not surprised either."

"How come?!" Twister cried, as he gave her a shocked look.

"Twist, you should've seen your face every time you're looking at Otto," Reggie grinned at him.

Twister got bashful, and Otto laughed at him. "And you were the one who strived for keeping it a secret!"

"And you, my little brother," Reggie turned to him, "are no good with disguise either, letting slip things like 'my beloved bro'."

"Really?!"

Now it was Twister's turn to laugh, and so bursting with laughter he was, that Otto had to stop him by saying, "Come on! Weren't you the first to nickname me like that?"

Twister had to take a back seat: that was the absolute truth.

Otto asked Reggie, "So, do you accept us?"

"What else can I do?" Reggie made a helpless gesture, smiling. "You're still my dear brother, and Twister is one of my best friends. There's nothing wrong with your relationship. You've always been inseparable, so nothing has changed much for me. But many things have become clear."

Otto beamed.

"Sis, you're the best!"

He looked at Twister and took his hand, correcting himself, "The best after Twister, of course."

"Oh, please!" Reggie replied, chuckling, and nudged her brother; he and Twister laughed in response. Then she said, "Now run along and explain it to Sammy, no matter how — he seems to have been really upset about your non-verbals."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" Twister and Otto said together, then ran away. Reggie watched them go, then, pleased with herself, went back home.

Hearing insistent knocking and incessant ringing, Sam went downstairs and came to the door, puzzled: who would need him that bad? At the door, he saw Otto and Twister with toothed smiles plastered on their faces.

"Sammy, we gotta have a serious talk with you," Otto said.

Sam replied incredulously, "You don't look serious though..."

At the same time, he ran his eye over his friends and all of a sudden noticed they were holding hands tightly. So he added quickly, "Come in."

They all went upstairs into Sam's room; as he sat in his chair, hands clasped in his lap, he gave the guys an expectant look. Otto was first to speak.

"Well, Sam, you might have noticed that things have changed-"

"Sammy, I'm so sorry I bailed on you yesterday!" Twister interrupted him, bursting with his anxiety.

"It's okay, Twist!" Sam quickly reassured him. "But you really gave me a scare. What happened between you two anyway?"

A bit annoyed, Otto cleared his throat to attract Sam's attention and went on, "I've just been talking about it. So, the thing is..."

He gulped. Then he blurted out, "Twist and I are dating!"

At first, Sam opened his mouth, shocked, staring at him, then turned his gaze towards Twister; after that, the penny seemed to have dropped, and he sighed in evident relief.

"So that's what this was all about! I thought that- ahh, nevermind! How long?"

"Since the end of March," Otto replied.

"Since the beginning of April," Twister corrected.

"The end of March," Otto repeated tightly.

"The beginning of April!" Twister insisted.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Sam cut them off. "I think I got it: you started dating on the night of 31 March and on 1 April."

Otto and Twister exchanged glances and laughed, embarrassed, "Well, yeaaahhh..."

"Ah, then it makes perfect sense!" Sam jumped off his chair to come up to the table. There he found his blue notebook and said, as he flipped through it, "I've been making some notes since I first noticed something strange was going on..."

Embarrassed, Otto buried his face in his hands. "No reading aloud, please!"

"Okay, okay," Sam replied apologetically. "I wasn't going to. I'm just glad that the calm came after the storm, and the sky cleared up."

"And how do you know this Hawaiian saying?" Twister giggled.

"I think you can figure it out yourself." Sam waved his hand and continued, "Wow, guys, why didn't you just tell... I would never judge you."

"Thanks to Mauriiiice!" Otto said, as he defiantly stuck his tongue out at Twister. Twister glared at him, obviously wanting to reply in a sharp manner, but he wouldn't, as Sam remarked, "By the way, no family quarrels in this house."

He grinned and stretched his hand forward. The boys sprang up to him, stretching their hands forward as well.

"Woogity, woogity, woogity!"

Not without reason the sky was so clear and blue that summer day; after all, it was the time to clear up everything and, from then on, be honest with each other.