The End Of Summer

It was a ritual, a town's tradition. Riverbanks very own version of Christmas or Easter. To be fair most of these kids around here didn't get cars or iPads for Christmas, and Easter loses its appeal once you reach High school because you realize eating your own bodyweight in chocolate is no longer acceptable, unless you want to become the fat outcast who eats lunch alone in the toilet. So they probably looked forward to this more than they actually did Christmas and Easter. Don't get me wrong, this isn't like Oliver Twist where we're all poor little orphans who have to pick pocket old people in the street just so we can pay for our next meal, it's just there were certain types of people that lived in Riverbank. The rich people, and then the normal people. Us basically. The rich people were your standard 'more money than heart and common sense' type of people. You know, the ones who will spend like 40k on having an elevator installed into their house just because they can. Then there were the normal people, who realized that walking up the stairs was not that big of a chore. So as tradition goes, the rich kids would get shipped off abroad for the summer, somewhere like Paris or New York so they can burn out mummy and daddy's credit card on expensive lunches and clothes. Once they left, the normal people would be left. It was quite an even split between the two groups. It wasn't like we were overrun by the rich; this isn't the Hunger Games or anything. The summer was basically the only time the divide really was seen because while school was on both groups mingled together pretty well. Well, apart from the usual popular group of the school who M refused to socialize with you unless you had a house in Miami that you can just pop to for some 'deep thinking time.' Again, normal people realized you can just do some 'deep thinking' in your own bedroom. Everyone else though didn't really care about the social status, apart from said snobs, and the only time it was divided was through the summer time when school ended. So basically we normal folk (the ones who cook our own breakfast and don't have an in-house chef doing it for us) decided many years ago that we would do something to make our own summer amazing. Something that would make up for the fact we weren't in some foreign country with sun and bikini's everywhere. And that is how the Riverbank Riot started. I have no idea where the name came from, it sucked to be honest in my opinion. I mean Riverbank Riot? Whoever came up with it clearly just thought it had a ring to it because both words start with an 'R'. It wasn't a Riot at all; there were nowhere near enough people for that. The Riverbank Riot, as it so suckishly got named, was a party. I have no idea when the tradition started, it was years before I started at Riverbank High (again, really original name. My town is just overflowing with imagination) I think it might have been a tradition since even before I was born, as cheesy as that sounds. Some towns have an annual street party, we have the Riverbank Riot. Unlike the usual town traditions, this one was only known within the youthful members of our community. Well, that's what we all liked to believe because clearly if it had been going on that long, our parents probably attended a few Riots of their own. I went to my first one when I was 13 years old. I know it sounds young, but bear in mind you start Riverbank High when you're 12, and I'm not going to lie I was too scared to attend it then. The next year however, my best friend Frankie said that we had to go. We were young and new to the school and we did not want to be the social retards that didn't go to the most talked about party of the year. So at 13 years of age, I attended a party which I have no recollection of to this day. This is probably the point when all of you start tutting at me in disapproval because I was drinking at such a young age. To be honest, I couldn't remember the night, but I knew it was probably one of the best one's I have ever had in my 13 years on this planet. So screw you if you are judging me, I had fun. In the last couple of years the main people who arrange and organize the party have gotten stricter and said that if you are 14 or under you need to stay home and watch Art Attack where you belong. I guess they were scared if anyone did find out about it, they would get in even bigger trouble because of how young some of the kids were. 14 years old isn't that much better, but whatever helps them sleep at night. So I guess I was kind of lucky I got to go at that age. Over the years as I got older to appreciate the Riverbank Riot a lot more, they gradually got better and better. It wasn't just a one night occasion held at someone's house where you end up passing out in the bathtub after one too many hand poured vodka's. It was a whole weekend of massive amounts of stolen (or borrowed as many referred to it) alcohol, dirty seedy hook-ups (that you conveniently forget once the summer ends and the first day of school rolls around) and a lot of behavior from underage kids that would cause their mothers and fathers hearts to flat line. The best part about it though, as a personal 'suck my balls' to authority and the richer parents who donate generously to it every year, the party was held in the school. I know a lot of you are thinking how the hell do you get away with that every year, well it amazed me too. I've come up with the theory though that people do know about it, as I said our parents probably attended a few of their own, but they have just accepted it as a lovely town's tradition and decide to turn a blind eye. Plus I don't think they want to admit that they did attend a gathering fueled with alcohol, s*x and lack of morals. No parent wants to admit that to their children. I mean imagine if your mum told you she once went to Vegas and hooked up with a reverend Elvis? ...Exactly.