• holden_eastman 14w

    Chapter 3: Skirting the Razor

    Night time, after class, where else to go?

    "Bro, you cannot miss it. All the little freshman are gonna be there."

    As if I care Trey.

    "Yeah, and?" Max shook out his chestnut locks and glared at Trey, straightening his white and black surf-shirt as they stood in the heat of the uncovered parking lot.

    Students sprawled out like a scatter plot around them, filling up the parking lot, yelling, dancing, and driving off towards the beach already despite the fact that it was supposed to be a bonfire and it was only four p.m.

    Trey brushed a few flecks of sand off of his board shorts. Insanely white board shorts.
    "It's now or never Maxy boy."

    I despise when he says that.

    Outwardly, Max grinned and held the driver's door of Trey's midnight-black F-150 open with thrashing hard-core music, spilling out into the parking lot.

    "Sir." Max bowed, unable to stop himself from breaking out into laughter. Trey rolled his eyes, to which Max only felt himself getting happier.

    In what seemed like seconds, they were parked on the side of the highway due to the fact that all of the small, inadequate parking lots were packed to the gills.

    Once they reached the dunes and crossed over into the spreading wasteland in front of them, Max felt like the time sped up, quicker than time could possibly speed up.

    Everywhere, even on the dune grass, even in the inching break, people stood with solo cups or bottles, dancing to deafening music coming from two pickup trucks with massive, concert grade speakers in their beds.

    That's gotta be Issues playing in the background. What's the name of that song again?

    Trey was gone and Carter was essentially non-existent.

    Ever since the summer, they've been all over the place. Just me, I guess.

    Max counted at least five kegs and felt all of it calling to him.

    I can't. I shouldn't. Why not?

    Nobody to judge. Nobody to clean up for.

    ----

    As time passed, he successfully stopped himself at three beers, though he felt like his head was full of nothing.

    Nothing at all.

    Then, as the sun was setting, a group of kids were shouting at the water.

    "What the hell?" Max jogged towards the end of the break and when he reached it, he saw a figure further out, floundering in the break.

    More like floating in the break. Wait.