Nestled in the Chicago suburbs rested the small, one school town of LaginaWood. A sleepy little city where teenagers drink, date, party, and hopefully study. Where citizens hail the Cubs without much reason, high school football is practically a rel...
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Raiden
The rumors had been right. Four years did the trick. It seemed half the school had shoved its way into Dion's two story house. Sure it was large by LaginaWood standards, but there was no way it was meant to fit just under seven-hundred kids. Definitely a fire hazard. In short, the party looked amazing!
I pushed past crowds of confused freshman, poor fools with no clue what to expect, yet still got the invite. Dion's was for everyone, regardless of grade or social standing, which just made it all the more chaotic. How his parents allowed this was mind blowing, but for some reason they did. I assumed it was 'cause Dion wouldn't be the most popular kid if not for his party.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Dion, a big guy in a leopard print shirt. He took turns sipping mystery punch from a red solo with the guy and girl perched on either of his thighs. At his side his buddy Joshua reclined with his JUUL. I shot a thumbs up at Dion, grinning as he raised his cup in solute.
As I turned away from the host, two hands clapped onto my shoulders. Their owner pushed off, springing into the air. "Hey, man!"
I clasped his hand, pulling him in to slap on the back. "This is wild!" I had to yell over the blaring music.
My childhood friend, Caspian Mayimberg nodded, chin length hair totally unkempt. "Dad'll kill me if he finds out."
"Then don't let him."
"Easier said than done."
I jerked my chin in agreement. My dad might have been stricter than Casp's, but his family handled anger in a different way. Dad yelled. Mr. Mayimberg ghosted. Especially if his little golden boy went anywhere near alcohol. "You seen June?"
Casp shook his shaggy head. "Not yet. Been chatting with Rachel."
"Rachel Wood? Good for you!" I never quite knew why Caspian hadn't ever gotten into a real relationship, even short term. He was nice, smart, not the best football player we had, but he killed at swim team.
"No kidding. Slipped away to say hi, but I gotta get back before Tristan swoops in. And hey, don't worry 'bout June. Party's still young." Caspian let himself be reabsorbed into the pulsating mass of bodies dancing--or rather, grinding to a beat--, flashing lights, and music.
I drifted from group to group, greeted to choruses of "Raid!" and pats on the back. After a shooting winks to a group of junior girls, I bet Motor I could finish more solos than him in two minutes. The man was twice my size, but I beat him by a cup and a half. I sent a text to June asking for an ETA. Then a few kids from the Junior Varsity team swarmed me, begging for tips. I answered a few questions then told them to get lost. Jack Kaider was not quarterback material, no matter what he and Carter thought. And Kyle would be lucky if he ever made Varsity.
An hour trickled away. Still no sign of June. Still no answer to my text. Rather than listen to Motor and Ben, or even consider ditching the rest of the team to track down Caspian, my eyes kept flickering to the door, then to my phone. A pile of empty solos accumulated at my feet. Downing another cup of whatever Dion had scrounged together, I slipped away in the middle of another one of Ben's stupid jokes.
