:10:

Denny knew she was home. He knew she was home, because while he’d been out smoking a butt he’d called her home number, she’d answered, and he’d hung up. Of course she knew it’d been him on the other side, but he didn’t care, and some sick little part of him actually wanted her to know. He called. She answered. He hung up.

She called back.

Denny answered,”Hey, whatcha….”

“Don’t come over here.” Beth cut in, “You’re drunk and I’m busy tonight, so just go home. It’s not gonna happen tonight.” She hung up.

Denny stood there, phone on face, cigarette burning, speechless. He slowly lowered and closed his phone, while taking a drag of his smoke.

“Busy.”, he said to the sidewalk. “It’s not gonna happen?” We’ll see about that, he thought. And set off down the sidewalk towards her house, leaving friends, bag, and unpaid tab at the bar.

Beth was right, Denny was drunk, which made this very similar to every other Friday night. The difference tonight was the lack of Beth at the bar, and that no one knew what she was up to. It was unlike her to be so secretive, but given the way everything had gone down with her and Denny, everyone understood if she needed a break from everything. Everyone also knew that for the past month Beth and Denny had been hooking up every Friday night. Drunk, horny, and comfortable, it was easy for Beth to put aside all of the reasons she’d broken up with Denny, and truth be told, the sex wasn’t one of them. They’d drink, laugh and talk, and pretend to utterly ignore the other. The bar would close, they’d go there separate ways, and one of them would make the call. It was easy the first time, and got easier as the weeks went by. Beth knew that it couldn’t last, and after the second time, decided that she could maybe do it a couple more times, but then she’d have to cut him (herself) off for good. She’d never told Denny about this decision, hence the drunken walk this evening.

Beth’s house was only 6 blocks away, so it didn’t take Denny very long to get there. But it had given him time to remove the condom from his wallet, and slip it into his front pocket. The first wave of the “Denny strike”, he thought to himself, and laughed out loud.

He was still chuckling and fingering the condom packet when he turned onto Beth’s street. The laugh dying in his throat, as he saw Beth walking away from him, arm in arm with some dude.

“What tha fuck!” he said to himself, his walk slowing. He could hear laughing.

They stop at a parked car, “The Dude” opening the door for her, then going around to the drivers’ side.

Denny could see them through the windshield, “the dude” talking and Beth still laughing. “The dude” leans over and Beth kisses him. Denny stops just outside the circle of a street lamp light.

The car starts, pulls away from the curb, and picks up speed. Just as it gets to Denny, he steps into the light, and, since his hand was still in his pocket, whips out the condom and hurls it at the windshield. It strikes, harmless and unnoticed, bounces onto the street, where, with a tiny but audible “pop”, it’s immediately run over by a car going in the opposite direction.

Beth didn’t notice Denny standing there.

VH

:9:

She sat quietly in the passenger side of the GTO. The driver kept his face focused completely on the road. Good thing - they were up around 100 miles an hour. The windows were down. She trapped her long blonde hair back with one hand and held half a joint with the other.

Didn't know where they were going. Didn't much care. As long as they were moving - the speed, the road in front - black, full of promise, flowed like a river beneath them. It felt good. Moving forward with more promise than being stuck in a small town with nothing to do.

"Get me one please", he finally spoke. And as he spoke he turned to her and smiled. The distance between them, as distant as the destination ahead, ended. His smile was quick and broad. Bright white teeth in a warm brown face. A good face for a good man. She handed him the joint and reached behind her for the cooler full of beer. She grabbed one and set it between his legs. She took another for herself and set it on the floor between her feet. He reached for it, popped the top and took a long long drink.

"Happy?", he asked.
"Not bad", she replied. "Glad we left?"
"Yep. Good to be with you. Just you and me huh?"
"Just you and me".

To make her laugh, he smacked the empty beer can against his head and threw it out the window. They rolled on. She'd known him for two days.

JH

:8:

Back from Iraq after two tours, Perry was pretty damn happy to be standing on American soil. Pulled away from his 9 to 5 job. His Harley fix-it-up project. His high school sweet heart. It felt like a lifetime over there.

But those were the very reasons he signed on. Straight out of high school, he knew he had it good. We all had it good. He didn’t grow up rich. There were plenty of things he wanted but didn’t have. But there weren’t many things he needed that he didn’t have. So he signed up. Besides, he’d get to shoot some freaking big-ass guns over there.

Now, though, now he was ready for some quality time with Brooke. Two tours was a mother of a long time to stay celibate. He took a look crap for it from the guys, but he had to keep his word. It took pride, and built pride. He always kept his word.
“Orders up. Pepperoni and pineapple pie, to go!”

“Yeeeah baby.... That looks awesome! Hey Joey, how come your pizzas are the best?” Perry wasn’t kidding, Joe Vinatoni’s pizza’s were legendary. And hearing his thick, old country accent was like music to Perry’s ears.
“Ah doan know. Ah throw the pizza pie in, an’ it come outta a good.”
“You can say that again,” Perry said as he walked out, bungied the pizza box to the back rack, and climbed on his Harley. Sitting waiting for him was Brooke. It was 80 degrees out with clear skies, and she hadn’t wanted to walk into the piping hot store.

Perry kicked the bike to life, satisfied with the deep roar made by the old bike. It wasn’t pretty, but it was his. A few minutes later, they rolled up next to a quiet spot on a dirt road. There was a picnic table and a ring of stones for a fire.

Finally alone, they sat on one bench and faced the fire pit. Perry leaned toward Brooke and kissed her. That was all it took to forget their hunger and remember how long it had been. Tearing at her shirt, his breathing grew raspy. He reached lower... And she grabbed his hand.

“Perry, Perry... We can’t.”
“Wh..what? WHAT? Why the hell not?”
“Something happened, at a party, I still don’t know how.. But, but I got the Clap...”

“You gotta be out of your...” Perry spun around. Red. Spots of black. He could barely see. He couldn’t grasp what he heard. Anger raged in him. His hands were trembling, he had to move from his seat. Reaching out, he grabbed the pizza box. Crushing a side with one hand, he spun and flung it into the woods, jumped on the bike and raced off up the road.

BCS

:7:

“You people are driving me crazy,” Barb said with her teeth clenched tight. “I need some air.”

She decided to leave them standing there in the living room, and retreat to the backyard. But before bolting outside, she made a quick turn into the kitchen. She needed something to take her mind off everything.

Barb had outlawed them from the children’s lunches months ago, after reading yet another report on juvenile obesity. She had already suspected little William was headed down the wrong path, with his requests for extra pats of butter, and second helpings of mashed potatoes. So she sternly (yet lovingly) put her foot down, and decided to ban all sugary and salty snacks from the house. John put up a fight nearly as bad as the kids. She feigned a sense of loss as well, keeping her secret stash hidden in the deepest, darkest corner of the pantry.

And she was in luck: there was one small bag of Ruffles Potato Chips left. After quietly tucking it under her sweater, Barb dashed out the sliding glass door. She stood on the far end of the patio, and gazed up at the early evening sky. She popped open the bag. The aroma of crispy, greasy potato chips tickled her nose.

Within a minute, she had consumed the entire bag. She looked up at the sky again, and noticed how the blue turned to orange which turned to black.

She heard a loud bang, then shouting come from inside. She knew she had to go back in and deal with that mess. She casually tossed the bag of chips over the fence into the Johnson’s yard. As she slid the door open, she quickly turned back around. Barb swore she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

TF

:6:

She couldn’t believe it was happening.

Everything Martha had worked towards for 8 long years was finally coming true. Sure, she had cried herself to sleep most nights, praying, hoping, dreaming that it would happen. But she never expected it would be like this.

She quickly hopped into her beat up Honda Accord, and found herself smiling with wry delight. She dug for her keys in her coat pocket, and pulled out the bottle of Peppermint Schnapps instead. The Peppermint Schnapps. She forgot she threw it in there before her encounter with Bill.

For a brief moment she thought of running back into the house and pouring it down the drain.

“Screw it.”

She decided to have one last sip. But once it touched her lips, she couldn’t stop herself. She threw her head back and downed half the bottle.

As her car made its way out of the Oak Bluff Gardens parking lot, she had another gulp. By the time she made her way to the highway, the bottle was nearly empty. She liked the warm tingle spreading across her body. She felt ready.

Martha took one last swig of her Peppermint Schnapps, threw the bottle out window, and raced off towards Ext 38. Tonight was her night, and she wasn’t going to let anything—including Peggy Harris—get in her way.

TF