The Adventure Teen All-Stars

By Alex Green

Something's not right about the Adventure Teen All-Stars, the neon-suited band of anonymous teenage superheroes that drive around in a technicolor van and wrestle warlocks into submission, capture caves of invasive trolls, and chase vampires into the burning sunlight. Parents may love them, but a group of the local high school kids are suspicious and for good reason. That suspicion leads to a riveting standoff between the "normal" teenagers and the beloved All-Stars, the outcome of which will change the city forever. Set against the backdrop of a fading California summer, The Adventure Teen All-Stars is powered by punk rock, wild house parties, secret meetings in the backs of nightclubs, and risky scuba-diving with a sleeping water demon. A searing suburban takedown, it's a stinging comedic novella about friendship, solidarity and revenge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Embers Arts Press
• Release date: Oct 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223277262

Alex Green

A native of California, Alex Green is the author of four books: The Heart Goes Boom (Wrecking Ball Press, 2017), Emergency Anthems (Brooklyn Arts Press, 2014), Let The West Coast Be Settled (Tall Lighthouse, 2013) and The Stone Roses (Bloomsbury Academic, 2006).  The Editor of Stereo Embers Magazine, Alex is also the host of Stereo Embers: The Podcast, a weekly long-form interview program with musicians that focuses on the current creative moment in their lives. He currently teaches in the English Department at St. Mary's College of California.  Visit him at: www.alexgreenonline.com

Book preview

Chapter One.

In June, the Adventure Teen All-Stars captured a werewolf, dismantled a renegade robot, chased three angry ghosts back into the underworld and outsmarted a goblin who threatened to burn the city to the ground. They also saved a girl from being eaten by a Great White Shark, rescued a stranded rock climber hanging from a jagged cliff, defused three bombs, thwarted an armed bank robbery attempt and, in front of a sold-out crowd, convincingly won the annual Beach Volleyball Classic. 

High school had been out for under three weeks and in that time the Adventure Teen All-Stars had continued to pack their already massive highlight reel with astonishing achievements that were punctuated by the admirable fighting skills, death-defying bravery, improvisational smarts, and poise under pressure they had always been known for.

In other words, they had stayed resolutely on brand.

I had spent those first weeks driving in slow, aimless circles around the perimeter of the suburban subdivision where I lived, my new driver’s license glowing brightly in my wallet.

I didn’t have a ton of people to talk to because my best friends Tharm and Rajiv were never around anymore. Along with guitarist Seong Kang and drummer Mikey Pérez, they were two-fourths of a ska/punk band called Royal Truth and their music was keeping them super busy. Everyone at school was totally into them and on any given day as you walked through the hall, you’d see five or six people wearing the same Royal Truth t-shirt that featured a crowned figure shadowed in silhouette, leaping across the blazing white cotton on a surfboard. Underneath the figure was the band’s name written in big bubbly letters which were pocked with dents, bullet holes, flames and arrows.

In under a year Royal Truth had graduated from playing ten-minute lunchtime sets at school to hour-long sets in punk clubs in Berkeley and San Francisco and they had just signed a deal with the legendary indie punk label Eulogy Records. Because their debut album The Cliffs Of Terror City was going to be out in late August, Eulogy wanted to get a buzz going, so they had Royal Truth booked for the whole summer; they’d start with a few weeks of club runs with two other smaller bands, and then they’d be opening up for a nationally-known outfit from San Bernandino called The Beach Thug Dub Syndicate.

In other words, hanging out with Tharm and Rajiv wasn’t going to happen, which was a big blow, because the three of us had been inseparable since second grade and now that we were heading into our junior year, we were down to our last few summers together before college. 

And because this one was pretty much a wash, it was pretty clear to me that we were running out of summers. With my best friends gone, all I really had were the guys on the swim team and they were all okay, but aside from practice and the weekend meets, we never really hung out beyond the pool.

I don’t know why, but suddenly I felt that no matter what, I needed this summer to count. Like, really count. And I wanted to share it with someone so we’d have it between us forever.

Well, not just someone. It was someone in particular. 

It was Arden Draper. And I needed to see her immediately..

Chapter Two.

I parked the car in front of my house and walked across the greenbelt and up to the pool where I knew Arden was pretty close to the end of her lifeguarding shift. Lately, visiting her as she was finishing and then walking her back to her house had become a thing we had started doing and I lived for the pattern we had established; my favorite part being the percussive rhythm of our steps together on the path home, which rolled like a doubled and hopeful heartbeat.

I opened the black iron gate and was surprised to find that nobody was around on such a warm evening.  It was close to seven and the facility was completely abandoned. There was no one in the water, the deck chairs and benches around the pool were empty and the air was heavy and still with heat and chlorine.

One thing that wasn’t still, however, was the water.

There were little desperate circles ringing on the surface near the six-foot mark. I walked over and saw the source of those circles was a small white mouse struggling to stay afloat, his hands pawing the water helplessly. Time was running out because the mouse was clearly tiring and running out of fight. He’d paw frantically, then stop, his body sinking into the blue, then he’d paw some more and poke his head out of the water until fatigue set in and he drifted under yet again.

I grabbed the long pool skimmer with the net at the end and fished him out carefully. I turned the net over gently on the deck and slowly lifted it away.

The mouse was saturated and flat, his breathing hurried and wild.

I leaned over and stroked his head with my finger until that desperate breathing evened out. And then, in a surge of energy, he shot across the deck into the bushes and rushed his way to freedom. The crisp sounds of his paws through the brown leaves filled me with satisfaction and pride. It was the best sound I’d heard in weeks.

I stood up and took a deep breath. 

Just so you know, Kenji, a familiar voice said. I’m pretty sure Brian Ruskey threw that mouse in there a couple of minutes ago.

I turned around and there, in a red Speedo one-piece was Arden. In an instant, my secret heart was on joyful fire.

She tugged the strap on her left shoulder to adjust it and when she removed her hand it snapped back into place.

Why would he do that? I asked, trying not to think of the strap, the snap or the shoulder.

So they’d cancel swim practice tomorrow morning, she said. If the coaches find a mouse in the pool it means the pool has to get shocked and that takes twenty-four hours. Otherwise your eyes would melt out of your head because they put in like ten times the chlorine just to make sure they kill everything.

You saw Brian throw it in?

Not exactly, but when I went inside to clock out a few minutes ago, I saw him huddling by the deep end with Noah Boone and Cameron Davis. They kept looking into his hands, so I knew they were up to something.

Bryan Ruskey was a prick. He’d always been a prick and he always would be a prick. I was glad I’d foiled his plans. I was also glad I saved the mouse. If he didn’t want to go to swim practice he should just quit the team. Why did he have to drag a mouse into it?

It’s really cool that you saved the mouse, Arden said, dragging a brush through her hair. "And it’s super cool that you got your license, but why are you always driving around in circles? My sister said she saw you loop around the development like twelve times in a row."

Our subdivision of Crossing Oaks comprised forty streets, twenty on each side, that formed a perfect circle. Arden lived on the top house on Prairie Meadow; I lived eight streets away at the bottom of Pine Flower. 

The loop helps me clear my head, I said. You know—the groove of it and stuff like that.

"Well, the next time you feel the need for the groove of it and stuff like that, stop by my house instead of driving past it," she said, smiling.

I will, I said, smiling back.

I’d been friends with Arden for years—ever since we’d moved to Crossing Oaks from Japan when I was in kindergarten. My dad was a white dude from Santa Cruz; a California surf punk who stumbled out of college and into law school where he fell in love with my mom, who was born in Osaka. After law school they moved to Japan but once my little sister was born, they decided to move back to the States.

So I had known Arden forever—since we were both in the Baby Dolphins program at the pool as six-year-olds. Ten years later, my crush on her was as intense as ever and the sexual chemistry between us was far past palpable. She would flirt with