After what feels like an eternity, I finally receive a text from Neil. Hey man, I'm outside. Quickly replying with a casual "K, be right out," I pocket my phone and sneak out of the basement, hoping to avoid my dad. As I ascend the stairs, I notice he's nowhere in sight, so I abandon the stealthy tiptoeing and head straight for the front door.

In the driveway, Neil greets me, waving a beer from his truck window. "Sup, motherfucker, ready for some fun?" I grin, matching his energy. "Hell yeah, man!" Tossing my bag in the back, I hop into the truck. Neil hands me a beer, his gaze lingering on my swollen jaw. I brush it off and accept the drink. "Careful with that in my truck. Spill it, and I might just have to kill ya," he jests, though a part of me wishes he meant it. Just for kicks. Cracking open the beer as Neil pulls away from the house, I sink back into the seat, savoring the chilled tunes on the radio.

Arriving at Neil's place, I've already drained my beer and could use another. Grabbing my bag, I step out of the truck, and we head inside. I hand Neil my empty bottle, prompting a laugh. "I'll assume you want another?" I kick off my shoes, nodding eagerly. "Damn straight, buddy." Neil fetches us both beers from the fridge, leading us into his living room. "Check it out, all to myself. No stress." I glance around, spotting hockey posters, a large flat screen, and a gun rack on the wall. Neil notices my interest. "You're into guns, huh? Nice to have 'em around. Tell the folks it's for safety, but we both know that's not the whole story," he chuckles, taking a swig of his beer. This is shaping up to be one hell of a night.