Hazy Days and Cloudy Nights: How It All Got Started

One

Alex

Alex Kent woke up on his first post-high school Monday morning knowing exactly what he wanted to do with his day.

He wanted to see Angel.

He saw her Friday, the last day of school, forever (for him; just for the summer for her). He talked to her on the phone for a bit on Saturday, like they often did. There was little risk of losing touch with her over the summer. She was his closest female friend.

Not a girlfriend. Just a friend who was a girl.

And yet...

Lately, Alex sensed something shifting when it came to Angel. Today, for whatever reason, that shift felt more like a fast slide, heels first, ass bumping fast on the grass.

Huh.

Eleven days away from his eighteenth birthday and still frustratingly without a car or a license, Alex got on his twelve-speed bike and pedaled. And thought.

Maybe it was the graduation thing. Granted, it still felt like just another summer vacation, but Alex knew it was not.

There was no more school unless he wanted it, and even if he did, with his grades and lackluster attendance that meant junior college for a year or two.

Then there was his father's prodding for him to get a job, which went from half-serious to a dedicated assault the moment they got home from the commencement ceremony.

Life was about to begin. Adulthood beckoned. Or threatened.

Or... something.

Bottom line: it was in sight.

Maybe it was just Angel. They could talk for hours. He had stacks of her letters and notes from the last two years.

He smiled and felt a little quiver in his belly that was not unpleasant. There was no denying she was stacked to the ceiling... and she had those big, dark eyes.

Alex pedaled down the Abbeque Valley Parkway bike lane and thought. The miles slid by. He turned down her street and braked in front of her house.

Angel stood on the covered porch.

Someone was with her.

"Alex!" Angel walked across the small yard to meet him. "What are you doing here?"

At school, they had greeted each other with hugs as often as his other friends gave each other high-fives, or the finger.

There was no hug vibe today.

"I was in the neighborhood?"

"Yeah, right!"

"Well, I was once I rode here. How's it going?"

The other person on the porch stepped forward and was revealed to be some dude Alex didn't know.

A big dude. He had at least a foot on Alex, which made him a foot and a half taller than Angel. His sleeveless sweatshirt was a broad square of gray cotton across his chest. He was blond, like Alex, but this guy's hair was sun-dyed yellow-white, not Alex's sandy variety.

Angel made introductions. "Alex, meet Mike Dante. Mike, this is Alex, who is, like, only one of my best friends in the world."

Alex shook hands with Mike Dante. Mike applied a touch more pressure than absolutely necessary, just long enough to send a message. He wore a friendly, empty smile.

Mike's eyes carried the same confident challenge Alex had seen so often on the faces of many, many, jock-ass bullying fuckers. "How's it going."

"It's been going great." Alex hoped his gaze silently communicated, "until you showed up."