Loosely based on real events.
Getting cherry slurpees with Cam are normally the highlight of Jerrad's summer. However, tonight turns out much differently.
Knock. Who the hell is that? I lifted my head from the bed, listening for another knock. It's probably just those dumb new kids down the street, throwing rocks. I flopped face-first back into the pillow, leaving just enough room for one eye to peek out so I could keep watching Boy Meets World. I would be pissed if they broke our front window again. Mom would have made me clean it up.
Knock knock. “Shit-balls,” I said, kicked the blankets into a tangled mound at the end of the bed and stomped to the door, which was next to my closet and went right out to the front yard. I was ready to jump on my bicycle, chase down those little dicks and punch them in the face. But when I yanked open the door, I saw a familiar face.
Cameron and I had both moved to the trailer park when we were in sixth grade. I thought he was the coolest because he had a remote-controlled car and new Nike Pump sneakers. When he asked if I had any awesome stuff, I said that I had a 50cc dirt bike, but it was getting fixed. He was pretty impressed. It was almost true, too; I did have a dirt bike once, but I crashed it into the lagoon and told Mom someone stole it. Cameron and I had been best friends ever since.
Three years later, Cameron stood in my doorway, wearing an oversized, hand-me-down windbreaker and those same Nike Pumps, except they were tattered and didn't have laces anymore. I just about ran him over in my hurry to get out the door.
“What the fuck's your problem?” he asked.