I get invited to the “on-deck party”. We are told to go to some field where we’d mostly just stand around and try to look cool in case the real cool kids send any scouts. There are no scouts today. Even as I am a willing participant, I know that this is a mean way to treat people, but really I should thank them, because there were drugs at the real party, and the cool kids were helping us say no to them.
An elderly neighbour yells at me through her window. “Keep the music down! My gardenias need quiet!”
On Deck