Chasher

By David Charles

Alyn, along with his two flatmates, were on track to graduate college at the end of the semester, entering the real-life responsibilities of adulthood. Openly differentiated on personal situations regarding work, class, and relations, they were always there for one another throughout the years. Rather than following the landscape, Alyn sought out for an adventure and was primed as he ran across a girl at a concert. Deciding to take a chance to see where his heart led him, he set off on an endeavor toward finding what could be his eternal or his perpetuation.

Following rudimentary rituals, Alyn walked a tightrope between his aspirations and those around him; however, he yearned to fathom his dreams into flourished fruition. Rather than being stuck in an endless wheel of the mundane routine, passion and persistence pushed him to facilitate his plan with no regard to those he accidently accepted into his life. Though not as simple of a task as he originally sought, as tethered flirtations incurred, Alyn found an outlet for his agenda, though through a trek that could manifest in mental and physical dire toward others along the venture to South Padre Island for an exciting spring break getaway. Coercing his brother to assist, hoping a childhood friend could prevent a volatile family recurrence. A tale of college kids and Greek-life siblings and lifelong friends who intertwined their journeys as they all chased their own desires, love and betrayal, secrets and deceit, hope and despair.

Yearning to venture toward a piece of potential paradise with their own personal burdens to bear, demons within desire, questioning their self-aptitude of consciousness. Though the trip was one person's journey, all those who entangled themselves brought with them their own perceptions of reality, not understanding that a switch of fate's fuse was ignited.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638818496

Book preview

Prologue

I’ve been told that I have an adventurous spirit. I continuously wonder if it’s a gift or a curse. An outlook of always searching, inquiring, and learning. Not quite able to settle, hold on to, or allow myself to plant roots. With the hope that I’ll one day find a place in my heart I can call home. Till then, my soul remains in the persistent state of unrest. Till my essence calms and finds solace in a peaceful paradise of its own tranquility, I’m going to have fun while seeking it out. One thing that’s certain to me is that life is not worth living if not unto one’s heart’s content and soul’s nirvana of self-actualization.

This is who Alyn has perceived himself to be over the years and finds comfort in the knowledge that he understands what his state of being is, knowing, with reasonable doubt, what actions he takes and how he conceives reality. Though flawed and allegorical at times, he is resolved around the notion toward a better understanding of life and toward a hope that he could possibly manifest a form from within his own reality.

Chapter 1

Searching for Meaning

Waking up to a buzzing shimmer of sunlight, which danced across his face from the fluttering curtain over the cracked window, Alyn sighed out a stuffed nauseating yawn of " Fauuuck " as he forced his eyes to focus on the clock across his dorm room. First making sense of the patterned carpet that mazes out upon the floor, his gaze moved through its design till running into the base of his light-brown wooden dresser. Contorting his eyes to climb up the standard run-of-the-mill brand dresser he was able to perceive his digital clock, which displayed the red illuminating time of 10:13 a.m. Seeing that it was still on the a.m. side of noon, he stiffly shuffled out of bed, semilunging over the discarded pieces of clothing piled beside his bed from the prior evening, to grab his phone off its charger next to the alarm clock, immediately turning on a current country-music mix while multitaskingly slapping the buzzing alarm back into its slumbered silence. Then sidestepping the books and journals on the floor near the door, which never seem to be organized, and stumbling across the miniscule hallway into his compact bathroom. Placing the phone beside the sink, he longingly relieved himself, then stepped into the shower, which maintained the essences of a tub but had never been used as one, starting to routinely wash himself, all while the lights had been left off as he was simply going through the mechanical motions of the movements he had countlessly gone through previous times, easily able to perform them in the fuzzy gray distorted darkness. Gathering his senses as he started waking up, his mind drifted off to the events of the prior day while still half asleep and dazed from its outcome.

Knowing it had been Friday, his weekend started as soon as his 1:00 p.m.–3:00 p.m. block scheduled History of the Americas at the Turn of the Twentieth Century course came to its end. Riding his undersized red trick bike—which had followed him through his adolescence into adulthood—back across the campus to his apartment/dorm complex. Alyn recalled a few guys tossing a Frisbee on a lawn, others passing by on bikes and foot as they traveled between classes, along with noticing a few figures in the apartment complex’s pool, as he approached the residence—just another casual afternoon in the early spring of the Oklahoma City area. The COU or Central Oklahoma University campus was like any other college, full of young adults spreading their wings and opening their minds, trying to figure out what they should do with their lives. It was peculiar that people were already in the pool as the season was still a bit premature; however, due to the unnaturally warm winter, the weather had been adequate for swimming outside almost all year round. Locking up his aged bike with a cheap lock that had been a high-school-graduation gift from a cousin, over three years back, Alyn ascended the three flights of stairs to arrive at his apartment door.

Seeing that the door was found locked, it could only mean that his other two roommates were absent from the premises. All three having been from midsize suburban towns, and not raised in shady cityscapes, their communal mindsets reconciled to only lock their door on the rare occasions when they were all evacuated from the flat. Fumbling around his pockets, he was relieved that he had the key on him, unlocking the door with happy content that the week of attending lectures and listening to professors’ thorough dictations of their scholarly fields of study had ended for him, granting a moderate reprieve from soaking in the knowledge they poured over him. Meaning it was time to throw his weekend warrior game face on and prepare the preplanned event that he had been looking forward to since the previous year. Quickly becoming blissfully excited as butterflies fluttered throughout his body, sending vibrating tremors of hair-raising electricity, he incidentally had forgotten about what his other roommates where up to or had planned, as he was consumed with making sure he got all his schoolwork finished prematurely so that he wouldn’t have to worry about it over the weekend. Not noticed as an overworker, he perceived himself as one who planned ahead rather than falling behind.

Now inside the apartment, Alyn reached for the fridge to grab a bottle of water, while finding a note written on the small dry erase board, which was positioned in the center of its door, Hitting up a B and B in Arkansas with Lexi. Be back Sunday—Mac.

Mackenzie Teger (Mac) was on track to getting a technician’s degree in engineering with a minor in finance, or the lighter version of obtaining a degree that wasn’t designed for the pursuance of a master’s or higher degree in the field, but still nothing to scoff at. Upon entering college, his ambitions were a tad high for his capability or pursuits, with interfering tendencies of life and relationships, which tends to ensue to those who yearn for a fuller life outside the ascendency of academia. He likes to boast about it being a profound accomplishment, but he knew what kind of job he wanted to acquire, so rather than giving him shit about overcompensating to cover his shortcomings, being that it grants him to be a step above working on a line in a factory—fixing and building machines that the floor workers used—his roommates simply went along with his hoisted trophy of satisfaction. His apartment cohabiters understood that he found what he wanted to do, and additionally having already obtained a proposition for a job lined up for him after the clouded hue of the college bubble, not having to worry about the cost of living once out on his own, he was contently happy in his perpetual security. Mac was also able to configure his schedule to not have classes on Fridays, which allowed him to spend most weekends with his locked-down long-term girlfriend.

Lexi was attending a different school, so the two of them were distanced but had strong roots and good lines of open communication, which allowed the relationship to stay on a sound course. They should be common-law married, having been together through high school and roughly three and a half years of college; but given that they hadn’t cohabited within a residency, they still had some room to grow. But it didn’t stop them for getting together at least every other weekend to keep their ties close and relationship strong, which didn’t bother the other two residents of the apartment, as they had their own shit to do; and one less person meant less of a mess and more room to frolic about.

A bed-and-breakfast sounds tranquil, but there is no fucking way I’d be attending one for at least another decade, Alyn thought. Still laughing at the thought as he grabbed some water, he suddenly pondered about his other roommate. If not in the apartment, Alyn’s deduction of reasoning thought was that Justin Malan could be found at either the gym, library, or somewhere in congress with the opposite sex. As he was the very definition of work-hard-play-hard kind of guy, as he had earned a station of being a nurse and was continuing school courses to become a radiology technician around his heavy schoolwork and part-time assistance at the local hospital, he still managed to work out on a rigorous training program, five to seven days a week. Yet knowing him, he had already hit the gym after working that morning, so he was most likely chatting up some honeys to see where the best party of the night was being hosted.

Sure enough, Alyn shut the door to read the second note scribbled under Mac’s, which could only be surmised to read, At the pool—Justin.

The red marker’s residue was almost blurred into a line of loops, but Alyn had learned how to read Justin’s handwriting over the years of being friends, cheating off each other through countless tests and homework assignments. Having had been friends throughout high school, the two became the best of friends and, like so, manifested their own secret world of jokes and shorthands. And knowing how they enjoyed tormenting each other when they both had a free evening, Alyn suspected that it would be a night of fun, as he realized that since he was already up and about, that he wasn’t expected back at the hospital for at least a day or so.

The then chilly water shocked Alyn out of his daydreamed state of recollection, as he realized he had been finished showering for a couple minutes, so he turned off the pipe and dried off. Wandering back into his room he continued to taunt himself with the waterfall of memories that had transpired throughout the previous evening. Throwing his boxers atop the other clothes from the day before, and slipping into a fresh pair, he stuck his phone in its elastic waistband, allowing the country station he had permitted to continue as his background music while still trying to wake up and move on into the day to which he had awoken. Whipping into the kitchen nook with a jaunty walk of false pretense in hopes that it would spring forward his spirit, Alyn opened the icebox to bear witness to a vast assortment of beverages, most being of the alcoholic genealogy. A couple shelves were occupied by partial cases of cheap beer, light beer, and college water, which was simply beer of a different name, while the door was comprised of random beers, juices, water, and wine spritzers that others had brought over or had been spontaneously purchased, while condiments and articles of food were scattered around the remaining surface area and in the transparent crisper drawers.

Deciding between a glass of milk or a beer, Alyn recalled that it was already after ten, and he needed to get into a peppy rhythm for the rest of the day, so he reconciled the benefits and ended up grabbing a brewski. He then snatched up the half pack of cigs he had been working through the evening before, before abandoning them on the tiny kitchen island during his descent into his mattress to get some nice REM sleep, making sure the cancer sticks would be safe and not get mangled throughout the night or get stepped on when he awoke or had to quickly rush into the restroom to piss in the dead of night. Carrying forward into the day, he headed toward the balcony, knowing he had made the right decision. Felling the pack’s weight, Alyn happily left his lighter within the cartridge alongside the smokes, so he started walking across the compact living room to smoke off the balcony, taking in the new day with the view of the interior/exterior of the apartment complex.

Positioning their apartments back toward the east, allotting it to overlook the pool, which was centered three floors below, with the rising sun. Thoughts of jumping into the pool from the balcony had enticed all three of the housemates from time to time, but since the pool was only six feet at its deepest, the thirty-plus feet in descent would and could only result in tremendous injury, allowing the thought to always be a fleeting injector of juvenile escapades. On the right side of the pool, a couple sand courts for volleyball were set up, and behind them sat a few cornhole and horseshoe pits. On the left side of the pool, a small stage was established overlooking the parking lot and barbecue pits, which was where anyone in the apartment complex could and would host small concerts and movies, not to forget tailgates for football games on the large projector screen, as long as it was reserved, or no one else had claimed a stake in the allotted time slot. Wanting to awaken at a quicker rate, he turned the station from the slower country songs to the more up-tempo rhythms of a rap and hip-hop station.

As soon as the balcony door closed, pop, fizz, gumph, ahh, placing the cold can atop of a previous water ring on the flattop wooden railing, which bordered the small 5×10-foot balcony, Alyn took in the horizon of the rising sun, which had ascended almost to its peak, right in front of him. While out looking into the brisk mid-February day, which was tolerable enough for his demeanor of solely having on underwear for his apparel, he happily obtained his legend bearings while basking in the radiating star’s glow, soaking in the UV rays. His phone notified him of having received a new message, through the medium of an interruption of the song, followed by a ding before allowing the music to recommence. Though a bit nippy, Alyn felt optimistic about the day ahead of him, since there were only clouds in his distant left and nothing but clear skies to his right, not to mention that he had absorbed and could partially retain the sun’s rays like a cold-blooded reptilian creature, which provided his face and shoulders a nice element of protection against the slight breeze. Click, drag, puff. As the smoke rolled off his tongue and encircled up into his nostrils, he reached for his cold can for another swig, at which time another upbeat rap song ripped through the air like a shock to the system, as he instantaneously started to bob and sway as it reconnected him back to the nostalgic memories of the events that had transpired the evening before. He mechanically took another sip of his brew and consciously re-emerged back into his mental embodiment of the past, reinvigorating an immersion of senses.

Having noticed Justin in the pool below with a couple female companions as he finished his smoke, he returned straight to his bedroom while throwing the empty water bottle in the kitchen trash can along the route, doing a stutter step shot as he whipped away after watching it hit nothing but bag. Quickly going through a shorthanded workout—a few sit-ups and push-ups and pull-ups—then, after building up a sweat, jumped into the shower for a cooldown and refreshing splash of water to clean up for the night ahead. While Alyn quickly shampooed and thoroughly washed, noticing that he had been noticed, as Justin lit up like a beacon and shouted up to Alyn while he was simply relaxing out on the balcony. Seeing Alyn had returned to the apartment, Justin routed their progression from the water onto the next stage of motion by getting the girls moving on from the pool to towel off. Justin then excitedly instructed them to get changed for a night of fun while he did the same. Within ten minutes, Alyn noticed the door’s shadow and realized it was Justin coming in and giving him a nod, as to a warning or preparing to give Alyn unsettling news. Having done the rodeo a few times over the years of living together, they both understood what could potentially occur while realizing if the progression didn’t pan out with the girls, that they were still about to get rowdy, being single and neither wanting to waste a Friday night indoors.

Hey, bro, hurry up, Justin announced.

What’s up, J? Alyn asked while his hair was still covered in shampoo.

I’ve got a couple girls heading up in a few. They know of an awesome party happening tonight but are coming over here to hang beforehand. Sort of preparty, Justin stated excitingly, already knowing which of the girls he was going to try to fuck later on in the night.

All righty, I’m almost finished, give me a sec, Alyn replied. Having remembered the state of the living room when he skipped through earlier, as it became a problem when visitors were suddenly expected, he called out after him, Fuck, Justin, clean up the living room and shit, the kitchen definitely needs a scrubbing before guests come over, Alyn continued as Justin examined the bathroom in comparison to what he was indicating.

You know, you come off as a perverted OCD maid. Everything needs to be clean and spotless, Justin mimicked, as Alyn turned the shower off and started drying off, still behind the muddled-half see-through curtain while Justin gawked at how clean and tidy his bathroom was. Your bathroom is spotless, like one of the surgery rooms I’ve assisted in, I expected shit to be everywhere. This is some serious serial killer ataxophobia kinda shit. If I open your cabinets under the sink and find surgical knives, plastic bags and sheeting, duct tape, bottles of chloroform, and a gallon of bleach, I don’t think it would be in my cock’s best interest to invite these girls up to your lair just so you can get your kicks off in chopping up these pussies to get your fetish on.

Go pick up the main room and pour some ice in a bucket for a liquor bottle, bitch, I’ll be ready in a sec, Alyn necessitated as he continued drying off. Ignoring the comment as Justin knew that he liked to keep the bathroom clean for everyone’s benefit, being the one any and all the guests that traveled through their abode used, as the other one was located through either of the other two guys’ bedrooms—connected through the two of them, which excluded it from the living-room area.

Quickly brushing his teeth, Alyn fluttered across the miniature hall into his room and started fingering through his clothes until he figured out what he thought would be a nice, fun, yet unique outfit for the evening. While still dressing, Alyn re-entered the living room with just some slightly worn-through jeans on, exposing the elastic band of his boxers, his mind racing through his mental checklist of what needed to be done before the girls arrived.

Have you seen my black-box stereo, Alyn questioned Justin as he was half-assing an attempt to clean up the living room.

Thinking back on where he had last seen it, Justin rhetorically asked, That cool speaker box? I think Mac had it last, so who knows where it ended up.

Fuck, I hope he didn’t take it with him, Alyn confessed as he switched his phone’s wireless connection system on to see if it would connect if it were in range, if it had any juice left in it. Going back into his room to finish putting his clothes on, the phone was able to connect to the speaker device and started playing Alyn’s chosen hip-hop and rap station.

Meanwhile, Justin followed the soft sound it was projecting until he found it under Mac’s bed, cranking it up to allow its symphonic vibrations to echo and flow through their apartment. Alyn re-emerged with a long-sleeved burnt-orange shirt that was loosely fitted to his torso and was made with an overextended V-neck for its collar, making the benefits from the added and subtracted material pointless in its value toward warmth over than that of a regular T-shirt. Embroidered with a couple tan giraffes mirroring one anther across its midriff, the shirt looked comfortable but definitely stood out. Justin continued following Alyn’s direction by throwing all the dirty clothes scattered around the living room into Mackenzie’s room, and everything that was school-related was organized under the coffee table, leaving the rest of the shit being tossed into the trash can. The simple mechanics of the big sweep was manifested through a concept of living comfortably, with some mess being tolerable instead of being nitpicky about every little thing. Then when company decides to come around, everything could look spotless within a couple minutes. Like so, just in time of tidying the place up, excusing the heaping mountain of clothes that was thrown into Mac’s room, their evening came a calling.

Knock, knock, and knock was heard from outside the door while Alyn was forcing the pile of clothes to stay behind the door, as he blocked off Mac’s room, hearing the articles of clothing fall onto the back side of the door as he closed it. Justin walked back by the music box, sitting on the small island/bar that separated the kitchen from the living room, and opened the front door. There stood Rebecca and Sarah, both in cute tops and tight jeans. Rebecca had her walnut hair braided, while Sarah allowed her curled auburn hair to bounce over her shoulders, while Justin courted them at the threshold of the apartment. Both as mesmerizing as a bonfire, Rebecca stood taller, with a bookish slender physique, wearing black-rimmed glasses, while Sarah held a more athletic build. As Justin configured himself around Rebecca by swooping his arm around her waist, he introduced the girls to Alyn and vice versa, ending with his annoying attribute of making things awkward.

Oh, and he’s hung like a horse, Justin stated as a simple fact and looked at Alyn with a chuckling smile as he awaited a retort or reaction toward his notion.

Just then, the next song popped on and distracted everyone back into the environment for which they had spontaneously crafted. Having broken the momentary unsettledness, Alyn took lead and asked the three of them in general, Well then, who wants to start out the night with a shot, or as I like to think, starting the night off right.

The doubled-down venture toward uncomfortable after the awkward initiation, simply trying to set the mood toward a more positive light, avoiding the initial correspondence Justin initiated, which interrupted their gradual greeting. Hesitant, the girls looked back at each other, telepathically questioning what they just invited themselves into. Yet before they could synchronize up to quandary their choice, Alyn once again offered up an ideology. However, rather than exclaiming blunt restitutions toward opening the lines of communication and having an enjoyable time getting to know one another before heading out for the night, he readjusted his style of approach.

Explaining himself after the initial blush faded from his proclaimed introduction, Alyn became more articulate. Well, I just thought it would ease the tension and allow everyone to start the evening off with an enjoyable taste. Erasing and cleansing the palate from the buildup of the week and any—rather yet everything—Justin has said. Plus we need to figure out something to do to preparty, figuring it’ll help the mind open to fresh ideas. Gaining his confidence, Alyn continued, Or we could just stand here uncomfortably for a while?

Shifting his gaze toward the bucket of ice, lined with four shot glasses and a whiskey bottle sitting on the island in the cold ice, the percolating bucket that had started to sweat all over the countertop, and then reconnecting his sights on Justin, he was able to get the point across. Taking back the conversation, he blurted out in a seminervous inclination, "Okay, okay, okay. I don’t know about you two, but I sure worked up a thirst down at the pool."

Alyn gave a small smirk, containing his reprieve, as he knew he wasn’t as suave as his roommate, waiting for him to take over since they were his invited guest. Justin knew as Alyn, having had the drunken conversations many a time while wasted out on the balcony, Alyn was possibly more likable and personable but not as persuasive, at least not without a perfect scenario which played continually in his favor. Before going over to the bucket to pour the shots, Justin brushed up against Alyn and slightly pinned him in the frame of the door as he leaned over toward the bucket, trying to retrieve the glass bottle of endless possibilities, except for being bottomless, in respect for the liquor at least.

Well, are you gonna just stand there, blocking their entrance, or let the ladies in? And y’all know you want some of this, it’s just begging to be drank. Justin coordinated while allowing Alyn to move as he properly poised the four shots.

Alyn then hopped over to the opposing side of the stationary-built half-table with extra cabinet storage under its fake granite surfaced top to assist in the process by handing out the shots to the girls as they crossed the lintel, closing the door before wrapping around the island. Slightly timid, comfortable in the school setting of learning and listening to instruction, Alyn allowed most inviting intimate situations to incur outside the confines of the living situation that he had walled up around the college setting. To protect himself toward not becoming too distracted from his studies and advancement through the degree process, which prevented him from going wild while on campus and fuck up his course of obtaining his stationed diploma into the real world. However, Justin liked to disrupt Alyn’s life by bringing home strays, offering them the comfort of hanging out with the support of training wheels, with them bringing over a friend to hang out with his teddy bear of an Alyn.

Once everyone had a filled shot glass, Justin and Alyn raised their shot and toasted in unison, Prost!

The girls followed in unison by clanking their glasses with their hosts and following the procedure of tapping the counter and then raising their glasses. However, they took control before sipping the nectar by pausing midair and exclaiming, To an awesome night!

And with that, the evening started; they all tipped the shots of golden-brown liquid to their lips and allowed the smooth kick of the whiskey slide down their throats with a burning sensation of rejuvenation. The empty glasses were replaced on the island with a spark of potential optimism igniting through them all. Seeing the empty glasses, Alyn obtained an idea for a game and rummaged around his pockets for a coin. Luck on his side, he had a nickel and dime settled at the bottom of a pocket; he bounced the nickel—since it carried the greater mass—off the counter, and behold, it clanked right into Sarah’s empty shot glass. Justin, understanding what Alyn was pursuing, jumped in.

Justin proclaimed, Of course you made it, with so many glasses out. Taking a pussy shot with four eligible targets about. You wanna play! Okay, let’s play some quarters.

Sarah muttered to Becca, What’s that?

Half-laughing at Sarah, Rebecca looked at them before she followed in Justin’s enthusiasm, Hellz yeah! Don’t worry, Sarah, it’s simple.

She and Justin rinsed all the shot glasses out in the sink and returned with only one. Rebecca handed back the nickel to Alyn while continuing, Here’s your small game back. I’ve got a quarter here somewhere.

Rebecca continued by explaining the simple parameters of the game and making sure that everyone was under the same dictation, Sarah, all the game is, is bouncing a quarter into the shot glass. Whoever makes it chooses who drinks the shot.

Sarah, grasping the simple concept of the possibly manipulative game, suddenly grew more confident. Yeah! We see right through your conniving plan to get us shit-faced. Besides, it’s still early, and if we don’t want to come off as complete assholes over there, we shouldn’t get too sloshed beforehand.

Realizing the possible conundrum, Justin offered up a slightly less-intoxicating suggestion, Yep, you’re absolutely right. Let’s play with beer rather than liquor. I’d hate to be stumbling and sloshy at the party, that’s just unbecoming.

No arguments from me. Alyn grinned his little smirk at Justin before directing his attention toward Rebecca. I can attest to the fact that Justin’s somewhat of a lightweight. After his fourteenth drink, he becomes somewhat of a marionette, and by the looks of it, you’re the one who will be holding the strings. So if he seems to be stepping out of line, you could twist and contort him to your will.

With a chuckle, he glanced back over at Justin, both knowing what message Alyn’s eyes were sending. Gotcha back for that awkward dick comment, bitch!

Becca lightly blushed as she thought they were hanging out and didn’t expect it to get all that wild through the night. I think I’ll be able to handle him.

As beer had been agreed upon, some light brews were pulled out as their chosen liquid of consequential choice. Talking, joking, drinking, and tossing quarters consumed them through the evening as they listened to the endless spiraling cycle of songs that vibrated throughout the living room until nine thirty-ish. Broaching subjects from where they were from, their origins and genealogies, to what they were studying in retrospect to how they were raised, which led them down their chosen paths into enlightening prospects of where they hoped to venture in the future to prove themselves, earn respect, do what came naturally, understanding, and where it would take them, or do something that set them apart because they felt it was a calling that they couldn’t refuse.

Seeing the clock, Sarah took in a quick breath before grazing her hand upon the top of Alyn’s. Is it that late already!

Drawing the others’ attention to the time, everyone else also realized that it was past time to head out, yet the yearning to continue their fun gave to a slight hesitation of resistance. They didn’t get dressed up for a little in-house double date, though, so ripping themselves away for the enticing intimacy of delightful indulgence, they all mentally switched back into their prepared psyche to party within a larger and more-populated environment. Clearing their heads from the cloudy daydream they were in, the music was turned off, the cans and quarters were put away, and the girls shuffled off into Alyn’s bathroom to touch up their makeup and hair.

After shutting the door behind them, Justin hollered out, Don’t be alarmed by the cleanliness, I promise he’s not a freak. Pausing for deliberate hesitation, he continued, Just don’t look under the sink.

Alyn responded with a muffled "Dick," while making sure all their newly created mess was cleaned up so they wouldn’t have to deal with it in the possible and growing likeliness of the hangover light of the next day.

All prepped and looking polished for action, the two pairs jumped into Alyn’s little coupe-bench-seated red truck, with a small Murphy seat designed for children or midgets in the back, and headed out, down and around through the neighborhoods nearby the college. After driving down a few blocks, they took a left on Oak Street, where cars lined both sides of the street. Not taking a genius to figure out something was transpiring at, at least one of the homesteads along the road, Alyn awaited further instruction as he inched his truck forward, not having a clue as to which house he was heading toward.

Looks like this is it, Sarah stated with excitement, grasping Alyn’s thigh as he looked for a parking spot or a yard that seemed appropriate to drive up onto.

Justin broke his silence throughout the journey as Alyn found an empty spot at the end of the block, Now I forget what his house number is, but look for the house with a three-sectioned lamp post. They’ll indicate the place we’re looking for.

These cookie-cutter homes raise the hair on the nape of my neck, Alyn divulged as he pulled into the empty slot.

Alyn, what the fuck are you talking about, you grew up in central suburbia, Justin responded. I’ve been to your folks’ place since we were kids, and this looks somewhat just like your neighborhood.

Yeah, but mine was more Southern style. Every house has a big front yard and its own landscaping. Not the same house with two or three different floor plans, like an apartment building on its side, Alyn explained. I mean these pop-up neighborhoods, with their thin walls yet blind-eyed neighbors, who just ignore one another as they move through their own bubbled realities of simply zoning through their own lives of basic motor functions, moving through a manufactory line of life. In my opinion, this is the mental approach of going with the structured status quo of comfort that society has propped up to hinder them from realizing that they are subjected servants to the hierarchy of binding restrictions through debt and middle-class mentality. If I ever find myself trying to pay off a mortgage to a cheaply structured home in a bland community with endless generally themed named streets, my midlife crisis will be burning down the house and heading out on the road with my family and re-establishing our lives out in the country where I’d build a new home and find some sort of actual meaning in life.

Taking his ranting with no heed, as the majority of people want to be unique or special in their youth but conform to the natural order of societal standards when they grow up and turn toward comfort and stability over adventure to support their family. Establishing a safe environment for them to grow and be offered every advantage they could possibly procure, no matter the accredited cost as they concave to a job that provides a stable source of income while ignoring, overlooking, or blocking out all the other bullshit they must put themselves through. Figuring his exasperation of hot-aired grandeur to fuck society and rise above it all was simply a dream that would slowly erode through time as situations and general life wear him down. Eventually creating a crevasse that went with the flow while adding vacations and other small escapades to revive him of his nostalgic views and offer glimmers of the serendipity that was no longer in his future.

Becca jumped into the conversation after Alyn wrapped up his ranting proclamation, as Sarah and Alyn started interlocking their fingers as they regrouped out on the sidewalk. Oh and that big-ass flag of the school’s logo out in the front yard is a pretty clear sign, she proclaimed as their eyes adjusted to the night scape.

Pointing it out through the back windowpane of the truck, Rebecca and Justin were slow to exit out of the passenger seat, having been sitting on top of him, groping and moving all up over Justin’s lap with the natural bouncing of the ride over, discreetly giving him a rubdown over his jeans. If the party were a few blocks further away, she would have already had his dick out, and their night would have skipped the sociological community-bonding aspect and gone straight to the dual encounter of the deeply intimate. Winding up at the house party, the four of them had an enjoyable experience. Playing beer-pong, talking to friends, participating in boat races, laughing along with overlapping stories, harmoniously stitching themselves into the fabric of the environment.