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fighterflyer · 6 years

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Undertale/Swap SI: Katherine Beaumont

Art by @melle-d

If there’s an AU already called UnderVerse in the fandom that I don’t know about, no, this SI has no association with it.

While presently the story I’m writing her in is a slightly divergent Underswap, I may also end up writing her in other AUs as well, such as Undertale or Underfell if I’m so inclined. So this is mostly just her general information, while specific relationships will be verse dependant. Hence, why I’m just using the sag “Self-Insert UnderVerse” to keep this out of any other UnderVerse tags.

Anywho, this is the first Self-Insert bio I’ll be posting here since I’m having an easier time writing the Underswap story she’s in rn! But considering I don’t really alter her personality in the other AUs, this can apply to the other universes to.

As far as F/Os go, I’ll make it simple in the event you DON’T wanna go through this novel of a bio:

1. Both in UT and US, she adopts Frisk and becomes her companion/adoptive mother/big-sister figure in the verse. [I don’t swap Frisk and Chara in my US-verse] So Frisk is a platonic/family F/O.

2. In UT, her love interest is kind of up in the air. It could be Sans or Asgore, idk.

3. In US, she’s shipped with Sans/Blueberry.

~~~~~

Name: Katherine Alyson Beaumont Nicknames/Aliases: Kit/Kat, Kitty/Kitten, Katie, Kathie | Fighterfly [Internet Handles and Gaming alias] Race: Human (50% English, 25% Native American, 25% Norwegian) Setting: UNDERTALE

Affiliation: Dreemurr Kingdom Occupation: Freelance Writer/Artist | Published Short Story Author Gender|Sex: Female (She/Her Pronouns) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual/Panromantic Age: 25 Birthdate: June 20th Height: 5'9 [5'11 in shoes/boots] Weight: 215 lbs, though loses weight over time Build: Cello-shaped, a noticeably curved figure with noticeable pudge in her stomach and thighs, slender shoulders, wide hips, and a large C-cup chest. Slender, average length arms and legs; no thigh gap. Soul: Purple with trace veins of Green and Orange (Perseverance with trace amounts of Kindness and Bravery). When her powers are in use, her soul glows only bright purple but shows the detailed veins when she's just showing it. Facial Details: Round face shape. Small nose, medium eyebrows, and downturned, bow-shaped lips (with cupid's bow). Skin: Pale Caucasian skin. Lightly freckled cheeks, nose, and tops of her shoulders. Slight scarring on her face and shoulders from years of scratching at herself. (optional for visuals) Hair: Dark brown. Naturally wavy, upper-back length, usually tied up into a ponytail. Bangs are usually overgrown and long, and pushed aside to frab both sides of her face. Eventually dyes her hair half bright blue with pale lilac streaks, half rose pink with trace yellow-orange streaks. Eyes: Soft dark brown eyes; medium-sized and almond shaped. Lashes are short in length and thickness. Always wearing glasses for poor vision, but she has them infused with magical energy by Toriel/Asgore [depending on the verse] to enable her to CHECK the statuses of Monsters and Humans alike and increase awareness and accuracy; they are impossible to break as well. Eyes glow a solid dark violet color when a great amount of her power is in use. Ideal Voice Actress: Anne Hathaway Distinguishing Features: - She has light scarring on her legs, thighs, arms, and hands from years of scratching, biting and chewing herself during autistic meltdowns. - Stretch marks on her stomach, thighs, hips and breasts. - When a great amount of her power is in use, the pigment above her veins on her neck, wrists/hands and ankles/feet glow a dark violet color. Dress Style: - While Kit admires several different styles, she's been kind of boxed into a corner of jeans, shirts, jackets and blouses that either hide her figure completely or compress her stomach to hide her pudge, with no real sense of style or passion, for most of her life. She's expressed an interest in pastel-goth styles and Bohemian styles, but she doesn't start exploring these styles until she starts detaching herself from her mother's limitations. Above everything else, however, her one requirement is comfort; how well the fabric breathes, whether it's scratchy or otherwise feels weird, etc. Because of her autism, she's very sensitive to texture and requires very soft fabrics. She'll almost always try to wear something with extended sleeves to have something to grip onto when she needs to stim. Common Accessories: - Silver metal slip-on bracelet with etching in it that reads "she believed she could, so she did" - CHECK Specs (Glasses charmed by magic to CHECK Monsters and Humans) - Specific Styles: - Winter Style: VERY sensitive to the cold, she avoids going outside during winter as much as possible and when she does have to go out, she doesn't care enough about fashion. She'll throw on any boots, socks, pants, sweater, jacket, hat and gloves that will fit her and keep her warm. The only preferences she has is that she likes shin-high soft fuzzy boots, hats with side flaps, hoodies and really cute sweaters. - Summer Style: She's also very sensitive to the heat, so will forgo any sense of fashion and dress lightly with just t-shirts and shorts. As her confidence builds, though, she may wear pretty sundresses too. - Swimwear: Will never wear a one piece since she hates how confining they are, but will never wear a bikini, hating to expose her stomach. She'll usually wear a cute, skirted two-piece suit that covers her stomach. - Nightwear: Usually sleeps in either a comfortable, beautiful nightgown, a cute pajama top and underwear, just her underwear, or nude. Typical Inventory: - Backpack containing: - Laptop + Accessories (Power Cord, USB drives) - iPhone + Accessories (Phone Case, Stylus, Headphones) - Game Case - DS XL - Gameboy Advance - DS and Gameboy Games - Chargers for Both Devices - Lined Notepad - Sketchpad - Change of Clothes - Medium-sized Shoulder-slung Purse containing... - Large Pencil Case - Pencils - Pens - Hair Ties/Ribbons - Small Book of Sticky Notes - Phone Charger - Wallet with Cash, Change, Credit Cards and Coupons, as well as a "Wallet Knife" - Makeup Compact with Concealer and Blush [Both to touch up her concealing and to see people's reflections in the mirror] - Hygiene Products - Small First Aid Kit - 2 Cameras, One Digital, One Polaroid - Change of Clothes - Lunch Satchel [Typically has a meal, snacks, and a drink inside] - Pocket Knife - Handgun with Ammunition Rounds in a holster on her belt Proficiencies/Skills: - Deduction/Puzzle Solving - Creativity (Writing, Drawing, Creative Improvisation) - Cooking/Baking - Leadership and Strategy - Computer Use [Fast Typing and Digital Processing] - Emotional/Mental Health Support - Learning/Information Processing - Gaming [Video games and Card Games] - Horseback Riding - Singing Special Abilities: [*Learns within the story] - Purple Magic - A certain kind of telekinesis. Purple magic is a slight variation of Blue Magic; it's less "Gravity-Based" and a bit more free-range, but not always as powerful as Blue Magic. - Induction of, and resistant to, KARMA and Poison. Because of the experiments she was put under as one of the rare humans to have an innate form of magic, she also has access to KARMA and Poison, which can manifest and be inflicted on others upon physical content under severe emotional duress. Almost always non-fatal, but can be harmful under prolonged exposure; usually just a brief defense mechanism. - Mixed Magic* - Healing - Fire - Water - Dream Walking* - Limited Telepathy* - SAVE, LOAD, And RESET Personality: "I guess we’re both on our own in the world, huh? The way I see it, there’s no sense in being on our own alone, ya know? So... how ‘bout, for the time being... we be on our own together?” Truthfully, it can be hard to tell what Katherine Beaumont’s true personality is, as she’s been conditioned to be extremely guarded, forced, or all-over-the-place about her true feelings, thoughts, and demeanor, be it around family or complete strangers. Because of her overbearing, perfectionistic upbringing and a history of harassment, Kit tends to carry a polite, patient and disposition around most people she doesn’t know very well. She always does her best to be polite and socially acceptable, and is always much more mindful and conscious of her behavior around others because of her autism and years of her lack of tact and social grace coming back to bite her. She’s mostly mastered the ways of social grace over her years of conscious training and practice, but as a result, can be very nervous, shy, and timid around others, always concerned she may be doing something wrong or unacceptable, or not doing something she should be doing. A socially anxious introvert, she rarely goes out of her way to make friends, but is almost never uncivil or disrespectful towards others. “Perfect polite little angel” is her default MO towards strangers and some family. Those who know her well, however, would tell you a completely different story, and while most of it is true, even what they see still doesn’t quite hit the mark of her true inner self. Her close friends and family will see a very laid-back, casual and fun-loving young woman with an excitable energy, an unpredictable sense of humor that changes like the seasons - ranging from sharp, snappy wit, snide dry sarcasm, inhuman noises a human diaphragm should not be capable of making and sex jokes - and a kind, loving heart with a head like iron, powerful protective streak and a long-fuse-big-explosion style temperament. Though her timidity can still persist even around her close friends and she has a tendency to be extremely sensitive, she’s infinitely more comfortable showing some of her true colors around them. She does have a hidden wild side and a certain bravery and courage underneath the shy timidity, but it’s all foreign and unexplored to her; a lot of it has to be dragged out by others or forced out by herself. She never regrets it, but as much as she loves those moments of freedom, she’s still unused to anything like that and tends to instinctively avoid it. Keyword being “some”. In reality, she keeps many things close to herself, even out of sight of the few people who earn her trust and earn their way into her mental file of “Close Friends”, and especially out of sight from her family. It can be argued that the only place where you’ll see her true colors is during the most important and critical of situations, where she's the best possible version of herself that she needs to be in those moments: Extremely calculating, quick-thinking and sure of herself, passionate, confident, daring, ruthless to the creatures she battles but gentle, warm and inviting to the egos she protects and cares for. It can be argued that this is her ultimate true self... is it? It’s hard to say. She hides so much of herself out of instinct, and is so unaware of, and confused about, so many of her own strengths and weaknesses after years of abuse, manipulation, harassment and being taken advantage of, calling any of her dispositions and demeanors her “True self” isn’t quite 100% truthful. It’s more accurate to say that all of these different “sides” of her contain separate fragments of her true identity that she’s still struggling to piece together. She often-times struggles with her mental health and sense of self-image and self-identity. Despite her outward behavior, she is a deceptively sensitive and battered soul trying her absolute hardest to maintain a positive attitude, find her own happiness and place of belonging in the world, and not drive anyone (else) away with her challenges and sensitivities. Strengths: - Physically strong, dextrous with her hands. - Durable; has a strong immune system and has a high pain tolerance. [Even if she bleeds a lot, bruises like a banana, and overall is very frail and gets hurt easily, she tends to handwave it with 'it's just pain' and do what she has to regardless.] - Very little sense of smell; resistance/immunity to Plutarkian odors and the Lougie brothers. - Generally mature, rational and logical, tries her hardest to be fair and reasonable. - Good with computers, fast typer. - Is an excellent singer. - Creative and imaginative. - Determined and persevering, never gives up. - Hard worker, dedicated - Kindhearted, compassionate and loving. Can be a very calming presence. - Very Intelligent, Very calculating and Has an unwitting knack for strategy. Has an IQ of 138. - Courageous; despite her open timidity, she with brave through anything she has to. - Confident and proud of her capabilities. - Empathetic and thoughtful of others. - Quick-witted and Sassy; has a sharp sense of humor and can laugh at herself. - Can be very goofy and childlike, connecting very well with smaller children. - Loyal and steadfast. - Is generally very good about owning up to her own mistakes and always strives to improve and do better. - Can be timid, but when it comes down to the wire, she’s very courageous, daring and willing to face her fears... eventually. Weaknesses: - Physically frail. - Lacks stamina in the real world. - Visually impaired and has difficulty processing sound. - Is not fast, flexible or agile. At all. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping her alive half the time. - Is on the Autism Spectrum. Suffers from executive dysfunction, memory problems, sensory processing problems, and difficulties in social situations. - Suffers from an anxiety-panic disorder, acute PTSD, and depression, and is not medicated for any of it. Struggles with self-esteem, self-worth, and self-image issues as a result, occasionally experiences suicidal thoughts. - Though she has a lot of patience, her anger can reach explosive, black-out levels when it reaches its boiling point. - Stimming, autistic meltdowns and depressive episodes can be physically harmful to her. - Very disorganized; has trouble maintaining a schedule or keeping track of time. - Can be stubborn and bullheaded. - Can be snide and sarcastic. - Struggles with self-advocacy. She tends to pendulum swing between "silent doormat" and "on a bloody, angry war-path of 'I deserve better'". - Heavily sheltered and repressed, can be very naive. - Can be very emotionally and mentally sensitive. - Easily flustered. - Can sometimes be a little obnoxious in her humor. - Though polite by default, can struggle with maintaining her manners. Family: - Forrest Beaumont [Father, 47] - Amelia Beaumont (nee Lexington) [Mother, 49] - Logan Beaumont [Older Brother, 26] - Natasha Beumont [Sister-In-Law, 28] - Grace Beumont [Older Sister, 26] - Arthur Beaumont [Younger Brother, 18] - Daniel(le) "Danny" Beaumont [Younger Sibling, 15] A very large extended family Friends: [Verse-Dependant, UT by Default] - Frisk [Companion, 6] - Sans [Close Friend/Love Interest] - Undyne [Best Friend] - Alphys [Best Friend] - Papyrus [Best Friend] - Mettaton [Good Friend] - Bliss [Good Friend] Other Relationships: [Verse-Dependant, UT by Default] - Wing-Ding [Enemy] - Gaster [Future Father-in-Law] - Flowey [Enemy] - King Asgore Dreemurr [Close Friend] - Toriel [Mother Figure] Noteworthy Interests: Likes... - Writing [Songs, Short Stories, Poetry, Personal Essays] - Children - Animals - Horseback Riding - Cooking/Baking - Reading... - Fantasy - Mystery - Action/Romance - Music - Soft Rock - Pop - Country - Movies - Cartoons/Animation - Comedy - Action-Adventure - Weather Watching [Namely rain] - Dream Walking [Especially Tending to the Dream Pearls] - Games - Video games [RPGs, Time Management, Platformers] - Card Games - Collecting things [Rocks, feathers, leaves, small things] - Paranormal/Ghost Stories [Just not at night] - Stimming Dislikes/Fears... - Loud Noises - Being Yelled At [PTSD Trigger] - The Dark - Scratchy, constricting clothing - Slimy, oily or greasy textures - Extreme hot or cold - Sharp Objects [Needles] - Being grabbed without warning [PTSD Trigger] - Slasher films - Alcohol [Drinking it or anyone else drinking it.] - Being Cornered/Trapped without an escape [PTSD Trigger] - Condescending/Patronizing attitudes - Cleaning Passions and Hobbies - Writing - Drawing [Sketching, coloring] - Video Games - Cooking and Baking - Dream Walking History: WIP because her story is a massive beast that requires time and patience to conquer. Her history is EXTREMELY complicated, so... Boyo, this is gonna take a lot more time to sort out. Miscellaneous: - She has an iron immune system except for strawberries and raspberries. These are literally the only things she's allergic to and despite the reactions not being "bad but not life-threatening, she'll openly hiss at them and keep her distance with the fruit by about 10 feet. - She adores blue and purple and usually dons them as her signature colors, but also loves shades of pink and yellow too. - Though she has a cat to make her feel secure at night, she still sleeps with her childhood stuffed dog, and takes it with her whenever she's sleeping over at someone else's house. She has a collection of other stuffed animals in her closet at home and she refuses to give any of them up. - She normally speaks casually with an expansive vocabulary and with a very slight Southern accent, but can sometimes speak in abbreviations and purposefully exaggerate her Southern accent when she's mad, freaked out, or just trying to be funny. - Her telekinesis has a soft purple hue to its glow. - Her sense of style and taste in clothing changes like the seasons and dresses very impulsively on a day-to-day basis, and can rarely plan her outfits ahead of time because of tactile sensitivity. That combined with her size makes her very hard to shop for, and she has a tendancy to wear the same outfit multiple days in a row. - Because of the experiments she endured, she has a heightened sense for people's emotional imbalances or current emotional state and has a sixth sense for connections between people's behavior and activity inside Lucidus. Without her glasses on, she can see the state of people's egos inside people's reflections. - She hates the feeling of make-up on her face as it feels sticky and gross, and tends to only be able to tolerate concealer and blush. Now that's not to say she's completely anti-make-up. She loves how she looks with make-up on but it always feels gross to put on and wear. Give her make-up that doesn't feel gross to apply and wear and she's all over that. - She absolutely loves to stim with her body and has a habit of flapping or flailing her hands, or rocking back and forth or side-to-side. She also has a habit of tactile stimming by touching surfaces she finds herself drawn to; her hands are most often on a wall, a sofa cushion, or someone's clothes. [Will add more details as I think of them.]

#Self-Insert UnderVerse #UnderSwap

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actingdeep · 3 years

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Conrad Fair

There was a knock at the door, and Jackson turned the lock to meet cordial eyes with his buddy Maxxy, who was grinning maniacally and clutching a puffed backpack, a twenty-watt Fender practice amp and the accompanying electric guitar. He threw his hand on Maxxy's shoulder and brought him inside. The two had a full weekend of plans together and could not be more ready to welcome it due to the anticipative nature of the week. The small town of Conrad, Indiana was preparing for it's annual summer weekend of small-town festivities sponsored by the local high school that Maxxy, Jackson, and all of their mutual buddies attended. The two had not seen each other since that last day at the end of their Sophomore year the previous month. The weather was sultry and inviting, and a general town buzz could be detected murmuring around them in the toasting Friday morning country air. Maxxy shed his supplies as a mangy tabby rubbed against his calf, and the buddies settled in the couches to figure out what to do first. "Is the library open yet?" inquired Maxxy. "Yup, I was just there." "Any computers open?" "Probably, no one was there besides me and Zadra." Jackson let off his purposefully overly-hokey and sputtering mock laugh. "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk." "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk," Maxxy echoed. "Let me guess: Runescape?" "Always," Jackson confirmed. "Well, he's not going anywhere. Let's go get a Monster," suggested Max. "Already good, bro!" returned Jackson, pulling up a half-empty Full Throttle from the floor beside him. He handed it over to Max, who threw back a swig. "But let's go get you somethin'." Jackson slipped his unsocked feet into a pair of dirty tennis shoes, and with nothing more to collect, the two shut the door and headed off to the convenience store the next block down. The door did not fully close--but this matters little. Once Maxxy purchased his fuel for the next couple of hours, the two sat in a small booth alongside the window within Mac's Convenience and Gas and deliberated upon which of their nearby buddies' houses they ought to gumshoe so as to wheedle out a familiar face that they might recruit into their, as of yet, ungerminated circle. "Should we see if Lawson is awake?" Maxxy posited. "Nah, he's never up right now. He will probably stop by the house on his bike after he does," Jackson informed him. "Okay. Let's see what's going on at the park." "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk. I bet you twenty bucks we will see Kyndell," Jackson prophecised. "...and Jessie??" Maxxy lit up. "Oh, God." "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk." The sunshine seemed to be emanating with considerably stronger muscle than it had been when they had entered Mac's ten minutes ago; the people of the town were beginning to materialize. There were scattered little clumps of adults all around: blocking off certain roads, painting and implanting signs, sweeping away sticks and glass, ripping around water hoses, erecting all the appropriate setups for the first day of the oncoming jamboree. Jackson flung off his left shoe high into the air above them and they watched it land with a thud ten feet before them as they were sauntering away from Mac's in the direction of the park that was three blocks away from them, Maxxy whooping to him with acclaiming fanfare; a bevy of humming motors, revving engines and crackling rocks forming the blood-pumping static surrounding them. The last of the morning's dew was still clung to the bottoms of the wide and blue benches and railings of playground equipment when Max and Jackson arrived. Maxxy flung off a microscopic puddle of water from a narrow, black park swing and rest himself betwixt the chains, leaning back into it while still standing. Jackson approached him and deceived an intense hurl at his genitals with his lifted knee. "Hey! Fuck off!" Max blushed, jerking the chains around. "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk." Jackson flung himself into the next swing to the left, looking at Maxxy and silently confirming with him their inclining states of adventure. "Welp--no one's here." Less than a minute after Jackson observed this, he felt a hand whack him on the back of his shoulder. He turned to meet Kyndell's little brother Chandler, who had materialized between them. Chandler flung into the swing to Jackson's left, tore back the chains in the middle and pushed off into the atmosphere above them. "Hey! Is Jessie at your house?" Maxxy hollered to Chandler, as the latter continued his pendular locomotion. "Yeah!" Chandler exclaimed. "She stayed over all this week." "Uh-oh," Jackson turned to Max, meeting his eyes obstreperously. "What? Why?" Chandler grinded to a halt, forming two dark rips in the gravel below him. "Maxxy's getting horny." "What, and you aren't?" rejointed Max. "Gross," Chandler flouted. "Maxxy wants that cherry pie," Jackson provoked with glee. "I will kill you right here, right now." "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk." "I'm outta here." Chandler exited, pulling out an orange light-up Yo-Yo from his aerated athletic shorts. "Wait! Is Kyndell coming to the fair later?" Jackson added. "Probably. Jessie keeps bugging her about it." Chandler turned the corner, walking the dog. At hearing this, Maxxy reared himself back in the swing for takeoff, with eyes beaming. As he launched, Jackson mentioned that he wished he had brought his basketball. When Maxxy yelled down to him as to whether they should go and get it, Jackson concluded that they had better not, and instead move on from the park over to the library. Max concurred, and after a couple minutes, descended his heels and grinded to a halt. "I gotta piss. Let's go to the house first," Maxxy's Monster can left under a bench for him to possibly finish later. When they returned, they found Jackson's mother traipsing around the small and (admittedly) unpleasant-smelling little household; the presence of the tabby could be ostensibly detected. She offered to make eggs for the boys after a warm welcome directed at Max. They declined and informed her they would rather save their appetites for the fair later in the afternoon. She accepted this, and handed them both five dollars to spend. Maxxy took his piss, inspecting his pocket for a guitar pick meanwhile. He flushed, checked himself in the mirror and soon found Jackson on the bottom-bunk in his bedroom, laying back in the shadow with one foot in the sun, playing something on a red GameBoy Advance SP. Max said nothing, and decided this would be his window to play a little guitar before they would commence their real adventure. He practiced "Heart-Shaped Box" without plugging in, and pictured what kind of tatty and heavenly singular outfit Jessie might be wearing today--and how he would feel when he would at last be lavishly gifted that prime look from out of her blue, crystalline and unearthly eyes. After about twenty minutes of semi-silent leisure, Max set the guitar down, when he saw his friend appear from his bedroom doorway, stretching himself to the top of the door frame, and groaning overzealously. the two re-shoed themselves and headed out the front door and into the breezy light, this time leaning it open to air the house behind the janky screen door, a basketball under Jackson's arm. Not two steps down the stairway did they perceive coming down the road to their right an approaching bicycle operated by none other than Lawson Parker. Max signaled to him with an ironically dainty flit of finger-wagging, with forward-bent wrist. Lawson rushed up next to them, feigning destructive and injuring collision before steering around Max's left and harshly circling back around them to a rest. "Hey, easy! Jesus!" Jackson yawped. Lawson coughed loudly, and gave off a sardonic look to them, resting himself placidly on the faded purple mountain bike, faint light reflecting off his glasses and the silver handles of the bike into the couplet's eyes. Lawson attempting a swing at the basketball under Jackson's arm, successfully knocked it loose, and hopped off the bike to retrieve it, letting the bike fall on it's side in the yard beside the green oak that they were consorting beneath. "Asshole, get back here!" yelled out Jackson playfully, chasing Lawson as he dashed off around the corner of the house and onto the back pavement where an adjustable hoop resided. Lawson pulled a layup through the netless ring, and haunched himself with daring eyes aimed at Jackson, and flew a rapid bounce pass around him to Maxxy, who was quickly following behind. Max tore off his thin, black and white Beatles jacket and began to dribble, peering into an approaching Jackson, making himself large. He saw Lawson's thin hand enticing him between Jackson's left leg and outstretched arm, and sent the ball through to him with success, after a deceptive pivot to Jackson's right. Lawson slammed the ball down through the ring with fervor, and walked away in satisfaction. "Ah, too easy! Toooo easy!" let off Lawson, side-eyeing Jackson. "Okay, okay. Calm down, now," he replied. "What are you doing?" Lawson pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He shrugged his shoulders. He offered a smoke to Max, who politely declined. Lawson kept holding it out to him. "He doesn't smoke," said Jackson between them, snatching the cigarette from his outstretched hand. Lawson lit the smoke for Jackson. "Let's walk; I don't need mom smelling this. She will start bitching like crazy," said Jackson. They all laughed. "We're going to the library to cool down," decided Max. "Yes, that's a good idea," added Jackson, who was breathing quite heavily (despite being rather lean), and he dropped the ball at their feet. "You coming?" "Maybe," replied Lawson, who was replacing himself upon the mountain bike. "If you don't, you'll see us around the fair pretty much all day!" Max threw in, politely inviting him along at any time. "If I go," Lawson corrected him. "Yes, if you go." Max turned around, pretended to cough, and rolled his eyes as much as they could go to Jackson. Lawson looked unamused. The three began towards the library, the couplet walking with wheeling Lawson circling around them, as they went along. The small Conrad Branch library only had a square of four computers that were persistently occupied and fought over. The three friends entered and could spot Jeffrey Zadra, adorned in big black plug-in headphones and fixated on his screen, clicking the mouse viciously. The computer beside him was unusually vacant. Max threw himself into it, stretching his legs. Jackson and Lawson stood behind the two sitting, placid and curious. "Someone's mining for ore," said Jackson, directed at Zadra and his rapid clicking. "Dude. I just found the fucking mithril ore goldmine!" Zadra confirmed. "Fuck off, Lawson." Lawson had wrapped his hands around Zadra's eyes, smiling devilishly. Zadra threw them off, and pulled down his headphones to his neck in a huff. "Have you been here since this morning?" laughed Jackson. "Uh-huh." Max laughed, and Jackson smiled back to him. "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk." Lawson went around the wall to the other two computers, also atypically unoccupied, and leaned over the cheap wooden partition, covering Zadra's screen with an outstretched hand, to Zadra's great annoyance. "Ya'll going to the fair? Is it busy yet?" inquired Zadra, smacking away Lawson's hand. "Not really. They're still setting up. And yes, we will most definitely be there," answered Maxxy. "Most definitely," Zadra echoed, only half-listening. "I'm not. No one comes in here when that's going on. Get's me ahead on here," referring to the game. "Plus, it's quiet as fuck and nobody fucks with me!" he added wrathfully, once again knocking away Lawson's irksome hand from the screen. "Maxxy most definitely wants to fuck Jessie," threw in Jackson, unneedingly. Zadra and Lawson boomed with laughter. The lone librarian shooshed them. Max shook his head, smiling crookedly. "I mean, I kinda don't blame you," said Zadra in a lowered tone, still clicking and slightly blushing from the admittance and the hard laughter. "Yeah, yeah. So are we going or what?" Max was losing interest. "I don't know, are we?" said Lawson wryly, giving Max a look. "I think we are," he answered. "If you guys see Mason, he'll be drinking vodka in his lemon shake-up. Took some from his dad's stash yesterday for it," said Zadra. "Oh, God," Max and Jackson both said. "Ha-ha-ha." "That sounds like Mason," said Lawson. It was, by this time, around 11:30, and the Conrad Fair had fully commenced. The small town affair stretched down three streets, six blocks each, with the adjacent parking lots of the local bank and chapel serving as a main hub. There consisted roughly ten food booths, an open-air stage at the far end of a lot for live music, and three mid-sized amusement rides: one flat, one gravity, and one vertical. Along the edges, individuals erected small open tents filled with the typical fair ware: handmade jewelry, bandannas, T-shirts, woven bracelets, hand-carved figurines, signs and ornaments, various mediums of artwork, wall posters, melee weapons, local paraphernalia. Lawson had split off from the trio as they exited the library for a transient return home for a reason that, upon the couplet's inquiries, he declined to specify. The friends decided to hit the rides first, to attain an efficacious rush of blood that they hoped would boost their energies. Maxxy was at the height of his excitement, as the day had brought nothing but pleasant expectations thus far; and he knew around some corner, at any possible moment, Jessie would appear to him. The music from the stage could now be heard, and there was a healthy crowd all around. Maxxy looked around for familiar faces as Jackson was conversing with his older cousin Marcus, who was operating out of one of the merchandise tents along the sidewalk behind the chapel. He spotted Harper Fritchman, who was a grade below he and Jackson, walking with her new boyfriend, Silas. He signaled her and she immediately steered Silas over to him with a boisterous grin. "Maxxy! Oh my gosh, it's been forever, it seems like! You know Silas, right?" "I know! How's it going? [To Silas] How's it going, man?" "Good, good. Silas just bought me this. [She points out a bright green snake-knot keychain]. Now, we're going to get an elephant ear," she declared, looking quite appeased. "Hi, Jackson! Hi, Marcus!" "That's what's up. Have you seen..." "...Jessie?" she finished, quite aware. "No! I was gonna say...okay, yes, Jessie." (Jackson smacked his shoulder, and let off the laugh, in low tones). "Oh my gosh, you guys and that stupid laugh," she sighed. Silas was very entertained. "No, I'm afraid not, buddy. Sorry. Do you guys want to hang with us for a while?" "We were planning on hitting the rides first, is the sugar stand in that direction?" asked Max. "Which sugar stand? There are a lot," Silas spoke for the first time. "He means the elephant ears, dummy!" Harper taunted flaccidly, thudding him on the chest. "Oh! I think it is, yeah." "Alright, let's do it," concluded Max, gathering Jackson, who had just bought a large, customized fishing lure from his cousin. Upon reaching the vendor, the quartet split, whereupon Max promised Harper she would see him again soon, to her delight. Jackson was urging Max to hurry up once he noticed a small line forming in front of the vertical ride. The two waited for ten minutes, then proceeded boarding. The two enjoyed a brief and conciliating whirl. The streets bustled as the day grew ever more torrid and sparkling. Maxxy and Jackson made a brief split; the former to wait in line at the lemon shake-up stand while the latter returned to Mac's, so as to quench his yen on a budget. Max, having obtained his mixture, was waiting nearby the mechanical bull for Jackson, as per their arrangement, when he spotted the person he considered his best friend, Niki, coming down the road aside her boyfriend Aleister and his best friend Riley Billingsley. Niki, Jackson and Maxxy are all members of the school's marching band program; herself, more specifically, in the color guard. When their eyes met, she gave off a very feminine squeal (really, more of a shriek) that jolted a nearby group of bodies; and for those types of efforts of enthusiasm that which, he distinguished, were typically winked at, he adored her. Her appearance that day was highly unexpected to Max due to her boyfriend Aleister's stringent and insulating nature in regard to Niki's conviviality; and, because of his genuine surprise at sighting her, despite the severity of that nature, Max was much too perky to restrain his amity, in great contrast to other, more regular days in whch he could skillfully downplay such a friendship. She ran up to Max while Riley and Aleister shuffled away behind the food stand tables. "Can you believe I made it?" "Yeah, you said it wasn't likely. I'm very glad you did! Where are they going?" "Who cares, dude. You hangin' with Lawson?" "No--Jackson. We were with Lawson earlier, though. We went to annoy Zadra at the library." "Oh my God, I can't wait to see Jackson! Where is he?" "Right here," said Jackson, who had snuck up behind Niki right at the moment of her inquiry, holding a half-empty Mountain Dew Code Red and an order of Bosco Stix. Another squeal. "Dude! I missed you guys so much!" "Did you just get here?" asked Jackson, muffled through chewed up bread and cheese. "Yes, like twenty minutes ago. Riley wanted to see Kyndell, and since she lives just right there, we figured she would be here. We haven't see her yet, though. Have you guys?" "Not yet," answered Maxxy. "Damn." "But we saw Chandler. He said she would be here." "That's her brother, right? Gotcha. Well, shit. So, what have you been up to?" "Rode the Rocket," said Jackson, still chewing. "We saw Harper and Silas." "And Marcus." "I love her," Niki claimed. "Are you both doing the parade on Sunday?" They replied in the affirmative. Niki was elated. This year she had been assigned by the guard captain the premier position of anterior troop: one of four flag girls at the head of the parade. The couplet congratulated her as the trio began along toward the stage. "Yeah. Only it better not fucking rain," warned Niki. "Oh my God, there's Lawson!" Lawson was spotted by the three, leaning against a portable metal fence piece between the back of the stage and the gravity ride, spinning round on it's puck's edge. He threw his arm around five-foot-one Niki's neck and knuckled her blonde hair into oblivion. She unwrangled herself and was only slightly miffed. "You son of a bitch, I fucking swear." She capitulated and smiled. "Where you been?" Maxxy queried. Lawson smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Riveting." "Max said you guys saw Zadra. How's he doing?" "Same as always," Lawson spoke up. "Runescape," Max specified. "I don't blame him, that shit's addictive," said Niki. "Oh! Speaking of--I need to get me some funnel cake!" "What's that?" Jackson asked. "Elephant ears," Max clarified, shaking a laugh out. "Precisely," she confirmed. "We saw Harper and Silas getting..." "We literally just said that." "Oh, yeah." Max was beginning to admit to himself that he was growing more and more distraught at not having come across Jessie yet. He remained largely absent-minded for the next hour as the four shifted their location from gravity ride to the funnel cake stand to the shaded spot beneath the red maples beside the chapel, Niki sneaking sips from his lemon shake-up all the while as she ate her fried dough with sugar. Lawson was eager to move on to the outer edges of the festival, so as to smoke without worry. In a moment, they would all abide, and they headed in the direction of the park. Their surroundings had officially become bedlam; the town was at the apex of clamor and activity. Maxxy was just about to announce his withdrawal to the library for a brief, solitary spell when Riley Billingsley and Kyndell Reed, with locked hands, coolly approached the four friends presently crossing into the mulch. Maxxy, upon seeing them, only dozily smiled at them, not making the connection at first. Then, in a flash, he turned wide-eyed to Jackson and was about to say something, when he felt a gentle tapping on his shoulder.

She was already hugging him tightly around the neck, and he could smell that perfectly secretive fragrance that always emanated from her hair. To Maxxy, in this moment, that fragrance was much more likely to have been birthed straight out from her soul; he was, unquestionably and indefensibly, in love with her. He knew he loved Jessie ever since they met in the late autumn of the previous year. At that time, Kyndell Reed was not dating RIley Billingsley, but rather, his best friend, Aleister. This was a very brief pairing: only lasting from around September to mid-November. They were both in agreement that they were much better suited as friends (which they did stay, to many of their mutual friends' great surprise). The two were infamous for their unbelievably clean separation, having been spotted conversing many times quite casually no more than a week after their division. During their stint as a couple, however, Aleister was also much closer friends with Maxxy. It was only after Aleister and Niki began to date that he would slowly stave off communication with Maxxy, as he (Max) was the only one of Niki's male friends that did not stop staying over with her on weekends out of "respect" for Aleister. Maxxy was much too attached to Niki at this point--having met her through the marching program-- and had remained close friends with her for over a year now, with Jackson as their go-to third wheel. She had never even spoken to Aleister before until Max introduced the two a little after the new year. It was amid that far-off era of Kyndell and Aleister when Maxxy would get invited to a rendezvous that evening at the local mall by Aleister to meet with Kyndell and her new friend that attended a school elsewhere for a casual turn of time-spending. No person in Maxxy's life had ever put forth such kindness and interest for him as Jessie did that night they first met: meandering the long hall of shops, rifling through merchandise with no intent of purchase, branching off from their coupled friends so as to deter their dull romance, and unconsciously, to develop a nascent one for their own--and no person has still not, since. At the festival, Jessie was adorned in black high-top Chuck Taylors, the ends messily splattered with paint of every other color, black skinny jeans with rips along the thighs, revealing coyly the blood-red fishnets beneath, and a ruffled white off-shoulder top under a thin, black hooded jacket, with at least ten thin, elastic bracelets in the shapes of animals on each wrist, and a fringed, dark-blue window curtain tie back serving as neckwear. Her large eyes popped out to Max from thin black rings of makeup and once again sent out to him that incomparable rescue of affection. Their surroundings all disappeared whenever they were together; for she was also in love with him as well: a fact Maxxy was acutely and reluctantly aware of. After a few minutes of the two talking very rapidly with giant grins, forgetting about everybody else nearby, Lawson crept up beside the two and placed an open hand to the back of each of their heads, attempting to push their faces together, smirking nefariously. Jessie squeezed her eyes shut and laughed vociferously as their heads struggled in counter-force, until Maxxy unwrangled out from his friend's playful constraints, with Jackson holding a look of keen encouragement the entire time as he watched them. "Lawson, you're so rude, oh my gosh!" laughed Kyndell, smacking his arm in concealed approval. "Ha-ha-ha!" Jessie laughed magnanimously. "Just fuck, already," Jackson whispered to Niki, who tried to hold back, but could not, a wet raspberry laugh. "Niki! Oh my God!" exclaimed Jessie, upon realizing her presence, and gave her a warm and genuine hug. Niki was quite fond of Jessie, despite an unconscious inclination that she might rather not be. She hugged her back. "This is so great! Everybody is here! Jackson! Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk!" Jessie continued with glee and excitement. "I know, right?" Kyndell agreed. Maxxy walked over to a bench and pulled out the half-empty Monster can he had left that morning and took a large gulp of the, at this point, very warm liquid, making sure Jessie was watching all the time. Of course, she was, and laughed in delightful confusion, Aleister and RIley forming adjudicative faces at each other. The day was beginning to dwindle; sunset was coming on and a cool wind began to rise out from beyond the trees of the little park, in the little town. Aleister and Niki were seen off to their getaway car by Riley, Kyndell and Maxxy once Aliester, clad in nothing but a thin, extra-large KoRn T-shirt, perceived it would soon be dark clouds and cold showers. Niki gave Max her patented best-friend embrace, puppeteering his figure to and fro, and gently whispering into his ear the soft, nervous entreaty: "I don't want to leave"; and the couple drove off down into the loud, gravel paths lain upon the emptied acres of endless dirt fields surrounding, and in the distance, the faint opening note of thunder could be heard. "Have you ever gone in that chapel? I'm curious what it's like," said Max, explicitly offering out a venture that would appeal to Jessie's marveling sensibility. "No! I haven't!" she said. "Is it still open?" "It's a chapel, it's always open," Kyndell clarified incredulously. "I have been many times, it isn't that interesting." "But I want to see it," Jessie affirmed. "Do you guys mind if Riley and I hang back? I have to go get a shake-up before they close! Oh, don't forget, Jessie, we have to be home by eight, so meet us back here by 7:30. If it starts to rain, I'll just meet you back at home. Bye-bye, Max! Are you coming back tomorrow? We won't be able to until after six. Mom is taking us and Riley to the lake." "Oh my God, I almost forgot," Jessie jumped in. "Yeah, you have to come back tomorrow night and meet us here," she insisted, quickly turning to Max, looking giddy. "If we're not too tired," Kyndell finished, as she staggered away, laughing, with Riley tugging at her sleeve mirthfully. Within the chapel, Max and Jessie garrisoned the borders of the nave: running their fingers and hands aloof along the pews and buttresses, seemingly abandoned, with intermittent bursts of the thunder slowly advancing without. With the structure being momentarily all to themselves, the couplet relaxed themselves and made it their oyster: Maxxy creeping the dimmed aisles in solitary until finally settling himself into the pulpit, pulling out and fingering the tab from his since-discarded drink can and looking on to the apse, where Jessie was mounted, facing him, with her arms suspended above her, and personating a belly-dancer. Three blocks away, Jeffrey Zadra was spotted by Lawson and Jackson exiting the library, yawning overzealously with outstretched limbs. The trio met in the road and discussed the highlights of their respective enterprises of the day. After Zadra, a proud and decided contrarian, and detractor of fallible human kindliness, was apprised of the town's general conglomerate fraternization by Lawson and Jackson, he was firmly cemented in his opinion of the superiority of the qualities of his time-spending, indoors, facing the electric monitor. Lawson congratulated him ironically, and quickly jolted a claw at his genitals with a counterfeit attack, causing him to flinch with rage, and Jackson to laugh heartily. Eventually, after some continuance of this ill-disposed jesting, the three would make off to their respective houses, cued by the wet drops that were beginning to fall around them. "I can hear the rain," said Jessie, herself now in the pulpit, stretching a leg over Max directly beside her. "It's time to get going, guys," an adult voice could be heard, calling to them from the narthex. The couplet jumped to their feet, and could see the dark clouds bearing down upon Conrad from the lancet windows, as they made their sprightly exit from the sanctuary, with omniscient thunder enveloping the little chapel. "Bye," said Jessie, stopping suddenly under the awning and turning to Max, wriggling her fingers between his, looking straight into his eyes with deep and heartfelt meaning. "Wait! it's only seven. Can't I walk you back to meet Kyndell?" "No, I'm going back to her place, now." "We're going to hang again tomorrow, right?" "I don't know, it might be too rainy. Plus, Kyndell might not want to, and I have to stay with her." "But why?" "I just do," she said, looking away, closing her eyes. "Well I'm going to wait for you at the park starting at six, no matter how rainy it is." "Ha-ha-ha! No! Do not do that." "Not up to you," Max said. "FIne--get all wet, and just stand there and look pathetic!" she laughed hysterically at this image, and threw his hand out from hers, turning away. Max pulled her back before she could retreat, anxious to never leave her with a goodbye anything less than perfect. "Stop! It's really pouring, now. I have to go!" She peered at him, impatient, but quite amused. "Alright. Bye." He let go. "Bye." Max remained unmoved, under the awning, for an indeterminate length, paying no notice to the emptying streets, when he noticed suddenly the muffled jingle of his cell phone playing the Dexter theme song from within his pocket. A text from Lawson's number: "It's Jackson. Where are you? Come to the house." Ascending the porch steps, and throwing off his soaked Beatles jacket, Maxxy entered the house to find a shirtless Jackson in the corner, lifting a barbell without any plates, to and from his chest, alongside Lawson, sitting on the edge of the scratchy sofa, picking arpeggios out from Maxxy's guitar. Upon his entrance, Lawson looked up, and stared coolly into Max's face, sending out to him a fellow guitarist's appreciation of playing on unfamiliar axes, still plucking away the same arpeggios. "You break a string, I break your balls," said Max, plunging himself beside him, ripping off his shoes and tossing them at the door. "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk," Jackson cooed, still training. Lawson turned his head, and continued to eyeball Max as he played, initiating his patented, glazed stare of false mystery. Max, becoming uncomfortable, just as Lawson had hoped, broke away from this trap, and reached into the back of his amplifier, revealing a long, black cable, plugging another, shorter one into the outlet, and handed one end of the lengthier cord to Lawson. "Not too loud," said Jackson, having set down the barbell, now opening and closing his palms, looking down at his biceps with satisfaction. Maxxy plugged his end of the cord into the amplifier, and flipped over the switch in the corner. Lawson turned the upper, skull-shaped knob of Max's guitar as far as it would go to the right, bringing out a loud, nervous buzzing from the amplifier. Max immediately threw the amp's volume knob down to zero, now growing quite tired of Lawson at this juncture. "Oh my God, do you ever stop?" Jackson sighed, also growing agitated, easing himself onto the loose-legged Windsor chair outside the kitchen, now chewing on a freshly-opened Rice Krispies. Lawson threw his head back in sated delight and sighed malignantly, finally revealing a built up exhaustion within that he was indeed actively trying to conceal for the last hour since returning to Jackson's house. Max re-adjusted his volume knob, looking up to Lawson entreatingly, and, upon receiving a confirming look of trust, went to grab a Rice Krispies for himself. "Oh, shit. This is the last one. Sorry." "Ech-!" Maxxy groaned, returning to his spot beside Lawson, now playing a very reasonable chord structure on the clean channel. "I've literally had no food today." "You want some ramen?" "God, yes. Please and thank you." "Mom! Maxxy wants some ramen!" "And Lawson!" the current guitarist added. "And Lawson! Shit, fuck, now I want some too." "Jackson, watch your goddamn mouth! Good Lord! Fifteen minutes, fellas." "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk."

The evening downpour had loomed over the outskirts of the town long enough beforehand so that it did not become a hindrance whatsoever to the continuance of virtually any ingredient of the weekend festival. The rides, vendors and merchandise stands were all safely tarped or deconstructed with time to spare; and, with a plentiful staff of volunteers, along with a respectable volume of benevolent pedestrians also assisting, all of the folding tables and chairs were successfully stored, and every electric cord and motor triumphantly cloaked for the remainder of the night. Day two of the Conrad Fair commenced with grace, bright and early, undeterred, unswamped, pulsating with life, under the balmy summer sky. It was half-past noon when Maxxy awoke, rising out from Jackson's bottom bunk in his bedroom, a mighty dearth of conditioned air having left his entire shirt back and forehead sopping in sweat. Upon searching the upper level of the bed, he found his friend absent, and was quickly informed by his mother, sitting in front of a box fan, that Jackson had only just left for Mac's, not ten minutes ago. Thanking her, he extracted a fresh pair of socks and a clean T-shirt out from his puffed backpack, wiped himself down with a towel from the bottom of Jackson's dirty laundry hamper, and started off in that direction, inaugurating the humid, country afternoon and all that it might bring. The moment he stepped inside Mac's, Max was swarmed with a holy deliverance of crisp, bracing, conditioned air. Jackson was sitting in the booth the two presided the previous morning, chewing on a danish, across from a woman in her early twenties that Max did not know. "Oh, damn, did you just wake up too?" asked Jackson. "Yeah. Fucking hot in there, it is." "No shit. I've been telling mom every day I need a new fan, I don't know what she's waiting for. Say hi to Kasey!" "Hi! Are you..." "This is my adopted cousin," Jackson informed him, tapping her on her hands, amiably. "Oh yeah? How's that work?" asked Max, seating himself. "Ha-ha-ha. I'm seeing his cousin Marcus. It is fuckin' hot, I swear! He's out in that booth over by the chapel sellin' his gear. I was out there too, but it was way cooler this mornin'. I told him, 'Marcus, I am sorry, babe, but I am 'bout to fuckin' die! 'Bout to have a damn heat stroke, or some'n!' I said, 'I have got to go inside somewhere cool for a while.' So, he said to come here for a minute. Then I ran into little Jackson here, just a minute ago! But, anyway. You two got big plans?" "Nope," they both said, blithely. "Yeah, we really don't either. Just gonna hang out and try n' make some money. Well, he is--I'm just try'na stay cool now, ha-ha!" "You oughta ride that zero-gravity thing," Jackson suggested. "Uh, hell to the no, m'dude! That janky thing? Are you tryin' to kill me?" The trio remained there at Mac's, jabbering for another half an hour, Maxxy getting up to buy himself a mocha-flavored coffee drink from the cooler and an order of the cheese-filled Bosco Stix, a cup of cheese included, meanwhile, when the aforementioned Marcus sauntered inside, throwing himself into the booth beside Kasey, completing the four-seater, tearing off his ball cap and pulling up his shirt to mop up his dewy forehead. "Wha'sup, ya'll," he said, exasperated. "Who's watchin' the booth, babe?" Kasey asked, wrapping her arms around his, resting her head on his large shoulder. "Jeremiah, next door, with the huntin' gear. He's a good dude. He's giving me half an hour now, and then I gotta head back and keep an eye on his gear so he can go and let his dogs out." "Awh, poor puppies. That's sweet, babe." "Jackson. Max. What'chy'all up to?" asked Marcus, flapping his shirt with his fingers, finally getting cool. "Not much. Probably just gonna walk around, might go to Lawson's or the park," said Jackson. "I walked by that park earlier, and I'll tell you what, if it wasn't the busiest I ever seen it. Little kids all over everythang," Marcus commented. "Ha-ha-ha. Well, maybe the library, then. I don't know. It's always cool in there," replied Jackson. "But later tonight, it will definitely be the park," said Max. "Yeah? Why's that? Some'n goin' on? Fireworks, right?" asked Jackson's cousin. "Wait, hold up! They're gon' have fireworks?" asked Kasey, lifting her head with sudden enthusiasm. "Yup yup," Jackson confirmed, sipping on a chocolate milk, nodding assuredly. "Damn, I didn't even know that," said Max. "There weren't any last year, were there? Or the year before!" He thought of Jessie--wondering if she knew about the fireworks. "So why'd you say 'Definitely the park later?'" Marcus queried. "He's got a little fuck buddy," said Jackson, prompting Max to thud him on the chest. "Oh, well, there ya go!" said the cousins, laughing politely. "Who is she?" The four continued talking for a time, covering topics such as fishing, summer school, Marcus' new pickup truck, and the eccentric girl who is always running about with Kyndell Reed. "Oh, shit, babe, I only got ten minutes left. We best get goin.' Alright, fellas. Sorry to cut it short. Jackson--as always. Max--good luck!" "Nice to meet you, Max! Keep little Jackson out'a trouble, now, ya' hear? Maybe we'll catch y'all tonight at them fireworks." Marcus slapped on his cap by the bill, and gathered his large ring of keys he had thrown in the middle of the table, as Kasey took both hands to Jackson's head, disheveling his dark hair, flaring it in all directions, before exiting the human cooler back into the dog day. The buddies rose from the booth less than a minute later, both of them quite ready to return once again out into the civil pandemonium that was sprawling the streets. It was around by the roasted corn-on-the-cob stand near the entrance to the main drag of victual vendors leading up to the stage that Jackson and Max came across David, a long-haired musician, whom Niki had introduced to Max only a couple months ago, walking by himself rather aimlessly, looking a bit anxious, with both hands in his pockets. Niki had shared a study hall period with him, and his lurching, solitary disposition, with long locks perpetually draped over half of his face, piqued her interest and brought her to introduce herself, inquiring as to whether he was a musician (he was, in fact, a bass player)--the unconscious motive being her desire to find a person that would be a good match for her best friend Maxxy, another long-haired musician, who had, in fact, once or twice, mentioned aloud to her his noticing David's curious presence seen here and there along the edges of the school's hallways. During a lunch period, not a week after, she would introduce the two and meld them into fellowship with triumph. Maxxy asked if Jackson had ever talked to him, and he affirmed that he did, as he also shared with the loner third-period geometry in Mr. Miller's class. The couplet agreed on an attempt to recruit him. David, being only a bit more open-minded and quite friendlier than his appearance would lead one to believe, agreed to join the buddies for a time, as he was indeed alone at the fair and had no specific arrangement made with anybody, or any detailed plan of action. He simply came because it was something to do--something rather, in his mind, adventurous for him to engage in--atypical from his usual disinterest in events or gatherings of any sort; but in reality, what with the meager populace of the town demanding nothing but semi-familiar faces all around, was a rather safe and conventional outing. The trio rummaged through the merchandise booths, pointing out interesting objects and gadgets to one another, kindly greeting the individual sellers, passing by Marcus and Kasey's booth near the end of the road, and planted themselves on the curb nearby them, Jackson talking with his cousins while Max and David continued catching each other up on their respective summers. "I invited Niki, but she said she would have to come with Aleister. I told her 'never mind.' I offered her a ride, and she said she wanted to come, so I don't know what the deal is. Oh, well. It's not that important; I was going to come either way. I figured I would see you and Jessie sometime. Is she here?" "I was with her last night, for like an hour. We went into that chapel and then it started raining, big time. Haven't seen her today. Yeah, Aleister's got her in a fucking strangle-hold, I really regret introducing them, ha-ha. Did you know they're having fireworks tonight?" "Nope, but I probably won't stay that late. I just came to see if anything interesting was happening, and nothing really is." "We got the parade tomorrow; Niki will be right up front waving a flag," Max informed him. "Yeah, I'm not going to that--seems pointless. Aleister will probably be there. She'll have fun getting that attention, ha-ha--that's for sure," said David, tossing pebbles at an oak across the road. "So you'll be in that parade, too?" "Yep, I will be with the drum line clapping the cymbals together--pretty much the easiest gig in the whole thing; otherwise, I would skip it." "You guys talking about the parade?" Jackson could overhear David, his baseline register being slightly louder than most. "You coming, Davey?" "Nope, seems totally pointless. You gonna be playing your tuba, or whatever?" "Ha-ha, it's a trombone, retard." "Fuck you--! How should I know, you two are the band geeks here, not me." After this jovial burst from David's squeaking voice, Marcus hollered: "This one time at band camp!..." Everyone laughed, and Jackson offered an open hand down to Max, suggesting they move along. Max grabbed it and pulled himself up, prompting David to rise also, and the three deliberated on their next move, finally choosing the library for a corporeal cool-down. "Stay outta trouble!" Kasey called behind them. Within the realm of books and quietude, another sanctuary of it's own kind, the three dropped into the cubed wooden chairs encircling the first table they spotted, flapping their shirts and twisting their backs. There were only about seven or eight others currently in the building, in which there were also only about seven or eight aisles, one of which was capped with a table slightly larger than the one Maxxy currently occupied with his buddies, that happened to be inhabited by Sarah Geller, Silas Browning, and Harper Fritchman talking over some open magazines and notebooks. Max carried himself over to them, and with a welcome greeting from all, and Harper especially, Max pulled out the open chair seating himself next to Sarah, across from SIlas. "Maxxy! Oh my gosh, this is perfect! You're smart, you might know this. We're trying to figure out what's the difference between a seal and a sea lion." "Oh my God, Harper, we've already figured this out," said Sarah Geller, a rather fit girl, with long, blonde curls and a very distinct, lightly freckled face, with thin, pitch black eyeliner that reminded Max of Jessie. "Seals are the fat, ugly ones in the water and sea lions are the cute ones with the ears that come on land." "That sounds right," said Maxxy, not really knowing. "No! I don't buy it! I could swear seals are the super cute ones with the ball bouncing on their nose! I have called them seals literally my entire life!" Harper countered. "That doesn't mean it's right," said Silas, setting down a transparent purple GameBoy Advance he had been clicking in his lap onto the table, grateful to have another male presence. "Someone told you those were seals, but I believe Sarah, they could just as easily be sea lions." "I don't like you right now," said Harper, in a petulant huff. "My mom has a picture of us from Florida when we went as kids, and the picture frame has a beach ball in the right corner, and a little seal on the left, and she always calls it a seal!" "Well, your mom is wrong," said Sarah dryly, making Maxxy laugh much harder than he had so far that day. "My mom is never wrong, you take that back right now!" said Harper, happily, turning red all over. "I am the walrus," said Max. "I am the egg-man!" returned Silas, on a dime, nodding impressed approval at Maxxy, who nodded back while indetectably readjusting himself to get a better angle of Sarah's body. "You had that Beatles jacket yesterday. It looks nice on you," said Harper. "Oh, thank you. It got soaked in the rain. Jessie and I were at the chapel when it started. Had to run three blocks in it." "Woah, hold on a second. Pretty much everyone had left by then--what were you two doing?" asked Sarah, turning fully to Max, pushing her tongue in her cheek, with very glassy blue eyes under dark, lifted eyebrows. "Nothing! I just had never seen the inside of that chapel, and neither had she." "Uh-huh. Those places creep me out like nothing else." "Sarah! How the heck could a church be creepy?" asked Harper, genuinely shocked at her friend's confession. "Just trust me. You wouldn't get it. Let's just say they do not agree with me." "They're not for everybody," Max agreed, subtly flirting with Sarah, as he spotted David walking over to the table. "What are you doing?" he asked Max abruptly, not looking at anyone else, hovering above them. "Just talking about seals and shit--you know, very sophisticated stuff," said Max, trying to ignore David's ostensibly uncouth sense of sociability for the benefit of the table. "Oh. Well, are you coming? Me and Jackson want some food. Plus, I'm starting to get bored just watching them play Runescape." "Sure, let's hit it." "You're leaving?" asked Harper, querulously, sticking out her lip. "We should go, too, ya'll. I gotta be back home soon-ish," said Sarah, putting on a pair of black glasses. "But I'm not done coloring my fishies!" "Harper, come on, she's right. My ass is starting to hurt," said Silas, back on his GameBoy, David still staring blankly above them. "I'll be at the fireworks. You might catch me at the park later," said Max, now standing, tightening his belt. "Plus, at the parade, I shall see all of you again." "Oh, yeah! That's right! You shall, indeed! Sarah's gonna be leading us! She's in that anterior, whatever it's called." "Anterior troop," Sarah clarified. "Oh, nice, so is Niki; she's up front, too." "I hope she can handle it! You can not be dropping flags while you're up there," said Sarah, cautiously. "Yeah, I bet. She'll be all right," said Max, with confidence. "Alright. Peace out, ya'll." Sarah still looked skeptical. "Alright! Bye Maxxy! Peace out, m'dude! I'll miss you!" Max and David continued down the aisle not fifteen feet, turned a corner, and hit the computer station where Jackson had logged into his own Runescape account, gaming alongside Zadra, back at his usual monitor, seemingly to have never left. Max asked Jackson if he was coming, and he said yes, but to give him a minute; with that, Maxxy asked the librarian for the key to the bathroom, went, and returned in a flash to find David and Jackson standing under the high-powered vent within the anteroom of the library. He opened the inner doors, took in a final waft with eyes closed, and the trio exited heading in the direction of the food vendors. Now seated under an umbrellaed folding table, Maxxy and Jackson were eating messy fries out of a boat covered in cheese and bacon, David having the same, but plain, with no toppings as to avoid the mess, peeking around their surroundings for anything at all alluring or especially different from the day previous, finding nothing of the sort. Jackson suggested they walk over to Lawson's house, and both friends having agreed, Maxxy added he would like to pass by the park first on the way over, on the off-chance Kyndell, Riley, and Jessie had returned early, it now being around 4 p.m. Maxxy knew this would be unlikely, due to the perfect lake-going weather, but did not mention this unlikelihood aloud. Setting off in the direction of Lawson's, with the planned stop-over at the park and making also a quick stop at Jackson's for him to grab his basketball, so as to have something to busy his hands with, Maxxy and Jackson were discussing the idea of meeting up with Mason once the sun began to set, whom Zadra had made plans with for that night to drink vodka-spiked lemon shake-ups while gaiting the nighttime festivities, the plan of which Zadra had mentioned to Jackson at the library, followed by a casual invitation, so long as he did not bring or tell anyone else, except for Max--David having stated he would be gone by that time.

At the park, under the roofed common-area off to the side of the basketball court, the trio spotted Tanner Hitchens, a lanky, curly-haired weed dealer. David borrowed ten dollars from Max, and asked Tanner if he had any. He told them they would have to follow him to his house to retrieve it, and since Tanner lived in the same apartment buildings as Lawson did, they did so. Upon entering the court, consisting of two squat, brick buildings containing around six apartments each with a dead-end road between them, the quartet split apart, with David following Tanner to his doorstep as Max and Jackson continued on to Lawson's. "What took you so long?" asked Lawson, opening the door, not specifically expecting them, but realizing their appearance to be likely. He led them through the small living room into his own room, threw himself into the dirty twin bed, and resumed watching an anime he had on DVD on his little television sitting on an end table, as he had been doing, as Maxxy surmised, all day long. There was an off-brand Warlock hanging down the wall above Lawson's own practice amp, and in the half-opened closet, a very new-looking, out-of-place pedal board was spotted by Max. "What is that?" he asked, prompting Lawson to pull out the pedal board, hooking it up after a brief search for his connector cables. "It's Brandon's dad's. He takes my laptop, I take this." "What do you mean?" asked Jackson. Lawson said nothing. He pointed out to Max, now adorned with the Warlock, sitting on the floor and searching his pocket for his pick, all of the pedal's presets--over one hundred of them, displayed on a smooth LED screen. Maxxy began whirligigging the knobs in delight, speedily changing the presets and testing out their unique tones, trying to ignore the fact of this wonderful piece of equipment having clearly been stolen. "You mind if David comes by? He's gonna be knocking any second--bear in mind, he's coming from Tanner's," asked Maxxy, smiling at a particularly reverberated and warbly preset. "I don't care," said Lawson, indolently, "as long as he shares." "He just might!" "Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk." Jackson, just about to sit himself, heard the knocking and went out to let David in. The two returned to the small room, officially crowding it, causing Max to have to lift high the guitar neck so as to let David cross by, stepping over the large pedal board and Maxxy's crossed legs. Lawson leaned up from the bed, threw up his window and patted a spot on the mattress beneath it, with an impartial smile directing David in a welcoming yet disenchanted way that only he could pull off. "So, how are we doing this?" asked David, pulling out the fragrant bag of tea. Lawson reached under the bed and brought out a thin, bendable rubber and metal pipe, at first, resembling a simple ink pen, out from an old sock he had wrapped it in, twisting onto it a small, metal bowl that he had Maxxy pull out from under the plastic set of drawers hiding in the closet. "Are you guys, really?" asked Jackson, laughing, unable to control his nervous glee. "Why not?" asked David, now holding the pipe that Lawson had quickly packed for him. "Lighter, please-and-thank-you." "I'm good on that," said Max, nonchalantly, more interested in the guitar tones. "What--why?" asked David, noticeably upset by this, as his social life was quite lacking in the department of mischief, and his impression of long-haired Maxxy being suddenly thrown into chaos. "I never have before, and I have plans with Jessie. I have no idea what it would do to me. We will one day--don't you worry." "Well, that's a bummer; I bought this specifically to smoke with you," David frowned, staring at Max with dark eyes. "You mean Maxxy bought it," said Jackson, slightly disapproving of David's callow grumbling. "I'm good, as well. I ain't no pothead. You two enjoy that."

It was approaching 6 p.m., and Maxxy was growing eager--there were clouds hanging about, but none too foreboding, and still no wind; the heat unrelenting, if not imperceptibly subsiding. The trio left Lawson's after several attempts and subsequent failures to pry him away from the television and his bed, and stopped off once more at Jackson's, initially, only to return the basketball and to drink water; but, after David hinted that he planned on heading home himself for the night very soon, mostly due to a growing, insatiable craving for Taco Bell, one of which resided one street over from his house in the neighboring town, Jackson felt a sudden upsurge of sluggishness, and propounded to Maxxy that he might go to the park without him, while he stay home to take a shower, and possibly a quick nap, also. Maxxy approved, after clearly establishing that the night was far from over, and making Jackson assure him that he would soon return so that the two could search out Mason and Zadra; and inviting David along to the park with him for one final endeavor before he go, who agreed, the two went on their way, leaving Jackson to it. It was not as crowded at the park as what Maxxy had pictured when he heard Marcus describing it earlier on, but it did appear to be at half-capacity, at least, in contrast to the typical quarter-or-less. There were only a handful of small children, the bulk belonging to younger teenagers around Chandler's age, and another handful of older teens Maxxy and David's age, two of which being Kyndell and Jessie, looking quite peppy and animated, sitting next to each other on the swings, twisting themselves in circles with their feet, winding the hanging chains tightly together, and lifting their feet up behind them, releasing the tension and sending them spinning like tops. "Try not to vomit," said Maxxy to Kyndell, sneaking up on her side, David close behind, speaking quietly so that he might keep hidden from still-spinning Jessie, letting her announce his presence to Jessie, instead, so as to gauge whether she might have been talking about him while away at the lake. "Blleeeghh!" Kyndell played along, throwing her head back and grinning placidly at him. "Ha-ha--what the fuck? Oh!" Jessie halted her speedy whirling, spotting Maxxy and David after a couple seconds, orienting herself. "Yay! You made it! Well, who do we have here? it's David, right? Hi!" She looked back to Max, deep into his eyes, grinning like someone was taking a picture and shifting her head from shoulder to shoulder to entice. "What's the haps, paps?" "It be bein' in the bein'," said Max. "Pa-ha-ha! What was that, now?" asked Kyndell, as they both laughed loudly, initiating another round of twisting. David was also laughing, but quickly cut himself off and attempted to grab a fly that was circling him out from the air. "Woah, we got us a ninja!" said Kyndell. "It's not me who's a ninja; it's you guys, wearing all that black." "We like black, indeed, indeed we do." "Did you guys go to the lake like that? How did you not die?" asked Maxxy, now standing behind Jessie, lightly pushing her on the swing. "Yes! Oh, we don't die--we're immortal," answered Kyndell, cryptically. Jessie stopped the swing with her feet, tilted her head far back and looked up at Max with an upside-down smile, inches away from him. At that moment, Maxxy thought he himself might like to die. "Oh! So, what are you, vampires?" asked David (keeping up rather well, for him). "Fairies," said Max dreamily, still having not broken eye contact with Jessie. "Blackened fairies." "Oh, I like that," said Kyndell, poking Jessie in her belly after noticing the two staring at each other, seemingly having fallen out of time, drifting slowly away elsewhere, snapping her back into the present. "Ow! Hey!" She stood up, and fell into Max with a hug, nestling in as if she were to try and fall asleep. "Awh, you two; now I really am gonna vomit." "Are you staying for the fireworks?" asked Max. "What!" Jessie started, and grabbed him by the arms with wide eyes. "When!? Where!? What!? How!? What!? Who-!" Max covered her mouth with his hand, unable to take the joy he felt from such a perfect reaction--he did not deserve it. She licked his hand, and he pulled it away. "Please don't be lying! Who said there would be fireworks? Kyndell? Is he lying? Ooooh, oh, oh, oh, oh!" David was beginning to fidget, looking like he did when Maxxy first saw him. After Kyndell confirmed she wasn't aware of the fireworks but suggesting Maxxy was likely not lying, her gaze started to drift disconsolately at the thought of Jessie and Maxxy lost in bliss together, under the enlarging, shimmering bursts setting off into the dimming heavens, with her beside them--alone--without Riley. She admitted to feeling enclosed and cramped at this moment, and decided for the friends that they ought to make an escape by heading over to the Subway that sat across the street from her house's back alley. This idea sparked a perfect appeal in David, who had parked his Jeep when he had first arrived in the parking lot in front of the restaurant, and informed Maxxy and the girls he we join them on the way over before making his exit. The girls gave him a sugary goodbye, Jessie giving him a forward-leaning hug, and David stuck his hand out to Maxxy for the two's recently-developed firm, parting hand shake. Max opened the door for the ladies, curtsying to him as they entered, and flashed the peace sign to David as he drove away. Not including the two remaining employees, the restaurant was empty, it being less than an hour before closing. Max ordered a large drink cup for himself and two cookies for the girls, quickly changing it to only one as Kyndell politely declined the one offered to her. He asked the worker if she knew when the fireworks were going to start, her replying, unfortunately, in the negative. They settled into a booth along the right side under a substantial framed photograph of sandwich ingredients, with enormous tomatoes covered in exaggerating droplets of water looming above Jessie's blonde head, munching on her macadamia cookie while Kyndell held her chin in the cup of her hands, exhaling slowly and looking at Max, quite downcast. "What is it?" he asked her. "Awh, Kyndell! Do you miss Riley?" "Well, I know he wants to be with Aleister before summer school starts Monday, so I'm happy he's happy. After all, he was very sweet at the lake all day--I know he was getting bored--only, if I knew there was going to be fireworks, I would have definitely told him to come back with us here to meet Aleister instead of going to his house. It's just a little depressing, is all." "So go call him! Tell them to get their butts over here, now!" Jessie suggested. "Oh, I don't know--they're probably in the middle of some game and won't want to." "Doesn't hurt to ask," offered Max, warmly. "Yeah! Go home and call him! How often do you get to watch surprise fireworks?" "You two are perfect, I swear. Okay! I shall return. Will you guys wait here?" Kyndell gave in and hopped up from the booth, leaving behind the two, along with all of her confliction, while reflecting to herself in the most earnest gratitude on how such simple solutions are able to present themselves so easily from a mind not wholly confused, and achingly helpless. "She's perfect. We're nasty," Jessie joked. "Twenty minutes to closing, guys!" called the night manager. "Anywhere we go, we immediately get kicked out," said Max, with pride. "Ha-ha-ha! Because we're nasty!" Maxxy's cell phone began to jingle, bringing out Jessie's index fingers to tick along like a metronome. A text from an unrecognized number: "Come to the rocket. Hurry up." After reading it aloud, he flipped the phone shut and stood up to stretch. "Who was it?" asked Jessie, looking up and taking her last bite of cookie. "I don't know, it was a random number," said Max, "but I'm guessing Jackson." "Oh! What's he doing?" "We're meeting up with Mason and Zadra. Apparently, they have alcohol." "What! Not fair," said Jessie, pounding a sleeve-wrapped fist on the table and sucking the last of Maxxy's Powerade, going aaahhh in quenched satisfaction. "I wasn't supposed to tell you, but you should come any way since Mason's got the hots for you. I'm quite sure he won't mind." "Ha-ha! Oh, Mason--of course he's drinking--what is it, vodka?" She smacked the empty cup thrice upon the table, which was considerably rackety in the desolate little dining room, smiling proudly. Max swiped the cup and re-filled it with fruit punch Hi-C, and the couplet walked out to wait for Kyndell, who was just turning the corner of the building to their right. "Oh! perfect timing!" said Kyndell, now looking quite placid, as she had when she first smiled at Max at the park. "Did they kick you out?" "Ha-ha--kinda, yeah," said Jessie. "So, is he coming?" She could tell by Kyndell's improved disposition that he was. "Yes! Him and Aleister will be here in thirty minutes, he said. I'm so hap-peee," she sang, turning round in a gypsy-like fashion, prompting a laugh from Jessie. "Shall we go back to the park to wait, my lovelies?" "Yeah! Oh, well, wait. I don't know..." began Jessie, looking at Max for assistance. "I got a text, I think it was from Jackson. He said to hurry up and come to the Rocket. We're meeting Mason and Zadra, I think he's probably with them already. You guys want to come along?" "Mason has vodka," Jessie turned to Kyndell, effortfully extracting, with all of her might, a false sense of primness and constraint, as her friend was raised to be used to a much more conservative approach at leisure than Jessie had. Herself, plainly distinguishing Jessie's commendable restraint, added to her ability to appreciate the circumstances of the annual weekend seldom occurring, combined with just having been fortuitously pulled away into safety from the sights of an oncoming melancholy, Kyndell gladly agreed in joining along with Maxxy to his borderline rendezvous. Jessie was sent into a rapture most supreme, and bolted for their destination, snagging up Max's hand in stride, nearly causing him to spill fruit punch down his neck--Kyndell, noticing the avoidance of this well-nigh accident, let off a rejuvenating whoop as she stirdied herself and followed behind in excited speed. "Hurry! Hurry!" Jessie kept calling, between an unbroken line of serene humming, as Max struggled to suck down the fruity liquid to a more secure level. The trio passed the park, turning the corner onto the road of merchandise vendors, most of them now being deconstructed by their respective proprietors, down into the lane of food carts and tables preceding the vertical ride implanted into the grass that binded the left half of the community bank's parking lot. Upon spotting the trio of Mason, Zadra and Jackson, she let go of Max, to his great relief, looking back to Kyndell as he halted, holding out a friendly hand she might use for balance upon her own curtailment. She stuck out her hand a few feet away, grabbed the outstretched fingers and swung forward and around, back into Maxxy's chest, laughing and taking a large swig from his cup. "Thank you, sir! You're very kind, and I am very sweaty." The two sauntered up and over the stout, yellow parking blocks into the grass beneath the Rocket, where Jessie was gesticulating at Jackson, who was blushing slightly, with crossed arms and a slight sway. Mason and Zadra stood beside, sharing a big cup of vodka lemonade, watching Jessie, wholly entranced, if not slightly bewildered, at her relentless energy and unyielding charm. "Thanks a lot, Jess, I'm sweating like a hog!" Kyndell tossed her arm over his shoulder, waving herself gingerly with her free hand, prompting a mannered Max to slip his arm around her torso, picturing to himself with liberal fancy the two as looking rather genteel and sophisticated to the gang of friends before them, despite Kyndell's falling sweat bullets and shabby blackened garb alongside his own baggy, ripped jeans and fruit punch clenching hand, now having become slightly sticky. Upon his casual embrace, she feigned a deeper exhaustion for effect, making light of their already airy, albeit perspiry constitutions. The shoddy glitterati separated, establishing respective outposts within the circle, Kyndell sidling up to Jessie's right, now between her and Zadra, hanging upon her shoulder, with Maxxy throwing a reuniting hand on Jackson, placing himself between him and Zadra, laying hold of the southern-most position crosswise from Jessie's North pole, completing the circle beneath the tarped and defeated-looking vertical ride. Jessie was now holding Mason's large plastic cup, sipping out the vodka lemonade and telling of her day at the lake, specifically noting Riley and Chandler's proficiency at wave-running, and the gripping heat during their picnic-lunch, despite settling beneath the largest and best-shaded sugar maple, Kyndell opening her mouth in wait for Jessie to angle in the straw, conceding herself to uncommon and decidedly deserved loosening. Jessie bent back her limb and the riveted straw fell into place. "Don't you know goth girls are supposed to be allergic to sunlight?" Zadra said, making a break from the cirque's occupying discussion as the settled Max and Kyndell hearkened. "We are not goth--we're blackened fairies. Right?" said Jessie, smiling to Maxxy. "Exactly," he confirmed languidly. The boys of the group, having been absent from the birth of the term, after a brief mocking, quickly remodeled their attitudes and determined the label quite fitting. "I'm assuming David went home?" asked Jackson to Max. "Yessir--about half an hour ago." "M'dude got the munchies," said Mason with a savvy glance, having been told by Jackson of the trip to Lawson's, prior. "Munchies? Was he high? Were you guys smokin' pot?" Jessie asked Max and Jackson, looking impressed at her not noticing any explicit signals of them having done so. "We didn't have any, but yeah, David got some off Tanner earlier. He took two hits and just gave the rest to Lawson, ha-ha," answered Jackson. "Fucking lightweight," said Mason, laughing in Zadra's direction. "You don't smoke, Max? I'm a little surprised." "He smokes when he's alone, I guarantee you," said Zadra, looking at Max slyly. "No one with hair that long doesn't smoke the barley." Jessie kept her eyes on Max, curious herself of the truth of the matter. "I really don't--I don't know what to tell ya," he announced. "I'm not against it, but I definitely didn't need it today." He shot a quick glance up at Jessie, hoping only she would notice, to inclusively reveal his reasoning, making her demure upon the failed attempt at being overlooked by the others. "Keep it in your pants, Max," said Zadra, snapping the cup of vodka lemonade out from Jessie's hand, removing the lid and jostling it's contents before a willful gulp. He passed it to Max, keeping his chin high and eyes facing straight forward to portray a smoothed apathy. Maxxy took a gulp himself, replacing the lid with a snap. "Ah! There's that bite," said Max, wiping the corners of his mouth as he passed the drink off to Jackson, who, having had his fill for the time being, peacefully requited the mix with it's curly-haired keeper. "So you won't do the ganja, but will do the vodka?" inquired Zadra, laughing. "That's ass-backwards, dawg! You don't deserve to wear that shirt!" He referred to Max, adorned in a white Sublime tee bearing the band's psychedelic Sun logo. "The shirt literally says '40 Oz. to Freedom,' ha-ha-ha," Jackson pointed out. "Okay, fair enough--but they're known better for being potheads," replied Zadra. "This is true," added Kyndell, currently holding the community cup: she always considered Zadra, a general underdog in the department of gray matter, much quicker than he was accredited. Jessie gave a nod of agreement in Zadra's direction before looking back at Max as she began to sing, in low tones:

Early in the mornin' Risin' to the street

[Joining in: Kyndell, Zadra]

Light me up a cigarette

[Joining in: Maxxy, Mason]

And I strap shoes on my feet!

"Uhuh-uhuh-uhyuk," cooed Jackson, being the only friend unfamiliar with the tune. "Beautiful, guys--really." He reached a hand out to Kyndell for the cup, but was intercepted by Zadra upon her extending it to him, stating, nearly in duress: "No! Don't you dare break rotation!" The girls burst with a laugh, Jessie rolling her eyes at this rather disadvantageous rigidity and boomed in a low, mocking tone: "Oh, yeah! Super important!" They were laughing, when Max, eager for a chance to excite Jessie personally, and, remembering Jackson's intriguing foreknowledge of the festival's goings-on, turned to his buddy and asked if he knew what time the fireworks were to commence. "Marcus said someone told him 9 o'clock," he answered. "So, pretty soon, I'm guessing." "Yeah, it's 8:50 now," said Mason, who had had his cell phone in his hand, connected to a long black pair of wrap-around earphones that went up to only his left ear, since the trio arrived from the closing restaurant.

"Oh, no! Kyndell, where are we supposed to meet Riley and them? The park? Should we go over there?" asked Jessie. Kyndell, with a flash in her eyes, as if she had forgotten completely the awaiting solution to her recent bout with ennui, replied in a hesitant affirmative, insisting the sextet travel together in that direction. Zadra let off a little groan, he being quite peculiar about not engaging in too many social dalliances, this current one already pushing the limits of his taste when regarding his upholding a diligent consistency to remain within the bounds of this proud and affirmed conviction. "I don't know, I can't stand being around noisy kids. Plus, we will need a refill soon--Mason, you wanna head to your place? I don't really give a shit about fireworks." "Nah, man--let's do the park. Riley owes me money, any way," Mason answered. (Despite this claim, Mason cared very little of this deal and it's required confrontation; rather, he would suggest they join along so that he might continue his casual glances at Jessie--as he had once called her in confidence, to Jeffrey Zadra, his "favorite piece of eye candy"). "Ah, shit. Fine! No more vodka for you two, though--girls are natural lightweights," Zadra pointed two fingers at Jessie and Kyndell, struggling to find some individuality so as to gloss over his acquiescing to his friend's suggestion. "Wow, okay," laughed Jackson, happily absorbed in his vodka buzz. "Excuse me! I could drink you under the table," said Jessie, smacking five-foot-five Zadra on the arm playfully, with attempted haughtiness, as the six began their collected migration. "Excuse me, but exactly what does Riley owe you money for?" inquired Kyndell to Mason, mentally preparing an authoritative chiding for her boyfriend upon descrying him. "I loaned him my bike, well--a bike--for a month, and he's had it for almost two, now. I told him it's a dollar a day every day he doesn't bring it back--he's at 21 bucks, now. I ought to just say nothing and let that shit stack up." "For real! Don't mention it, dude, until the last day of summer school--or later, even; I guarantee you he will completely forget about it," said Zadra, wickedly, making another one of his usual, oft-unreliable guarantees. "You two are bad," Jessie laughed. "Riley is bad! He should know better than that! Well, you won't have to remind him, because I most definitely will! He's supposed to be saving up for when we go to Myrtle Beach," declared Kyndell, perturbed (but not really). "Don't worry, Kyndell, I ain't gonna let Mason hustle your bae," said Jackson, placing a woozy hand to her back, drawing out from her a politic danke. Mason stuck his dangling earphone on and turned up a bass-heavy rap track as the group continued along, with Zadra beside, high-chinned and pocket-handed, the two serving as anterior troop, followed by Kyndell and Jackson, with Max and Jessie in the rear, trading smiles, and surreptitiously locking hands. Jackson, noticing his pair of cousins not fifty feet before them, heading in the same direction, called out to them with a kindly smile and wave, the two turning their heads and returning equally kindly signals, to Jackson's great satisfaction. Maxxy took this moment to fully appreciate, as he had not yet done that day, the complete absence of any trace of rain or cloud or storm that would have been wholly detrimental to his treasured time with Jessie that day, and, perhaps, the rest of the festival; he could see that she was also in a state of passive gratitude, or so as such, not necessarily, perhaps, for his presence personally, but for something much more expansive--much more; and as they were reaching the edge of the park, warm, behind trusting enough peers, the sun now all but fully set, he pondered upon everything that Jessie may have lacked, and had, perhaps, yearned for, through the entirety of her being, and upon what unconditionally generous and merciful ethereal force might be at play, hidden, off-screen, never evincing it's presence, had chosen upon graciously gifting to Max the knowledge that, despite all of those possible lackings and yearnings, it just might be that it was he--and he alone--at this moment, that set at perfect peace all of her delicate, prized and mysterious emotions. Aleister and Riley were spotted and Kyndell ran into her lover’s arms. At that moment, Maxxy saw Harper and Silas sitting on a bench nearby, and was exchanging smiles and waves with them when he suddenly heard from above a loud sonic boom, followed by a great light, with crackles and shimmers; and he felt the tight squeeze from Jessie's hand which rest within his, as she looked above, and gasped with excited wonder beneath the falling stars.

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