Sean stole a glance back at his father as his body was already halfway out of the door on a cool August night. There was a look of sadness somewhere in his father's eyes, and Sean figured, as his sneakers hit the sidewalk, that his father would be up building birdhouses all night.

" 'Bout fuckin' time, Devine," Jimmy huffed as Sean slid into the passenger's seat of Jimmy's jalopy.

Sean shot Jimmy a look, scrunched brow and lips pulled tight against his teeth, before rolling down the window and hanging his elbow out of it. "You got the stuff, right?"

"You got the stuff, right?" Jimmy mocked in a whiney voice. "Duh." He jabbed a thumb back to the worn-out bookbag sitting in the middle of the back seat.

"We didn't have much in the house, so…" Sean's voice trailed off. He knew he didn't have to explain himself to Jimmy of all people, but something itching at the back of his mind said he should do it anyway.

Jimmy flicked his hand dismissively. "Don' worry about it, I got enough."

They rode in silence for the remainder of the drive to the riverbank. Some music floated out of the old radio in Jimmy's car but it wasn't loud enough to make out anything other than the smooth instrumental breaks. Sean stared out the window and watched the town whir by him. It was the last weekend before their senior year started up, their last hurrah. As bad as it sounded, Sean was surprised that Jimmy made it this far.

The sun was low when they got to their secluded spot on the bank. Sean was out of the car first, and his first order of business was to gather up as many skipping rocks he could. When he skimmed the first stone off of the water he could hear Jimmy scoffing from behind him.

"You got something to say?" Sean called up to Jimmy who was still standing by the car.

Jimmy just smiled with a glint in his eye that Sean could pick out from a mile away. There was a pang that Sean got in his chest that came from the unmistakable feeling that every time he looked at Jimmy it could be the last, as if their time would run out just like that. It had been that way ever since Jimmy and his father left the Devines' house after the whole...the whole Dave ordeal. The day Jimmy took Sean's baseball glove thinking that Sean wouldn't notice, or maybe he hoped Sean would notice. Either way, Sean decided to never say anything about it.

"Bottom's up," Jimmy said as he walked down to meet Sean, the bottle of Jack already open and sloshing around.

Sean tossed another rock across the greasy-looking surface of the water as Jimmy took a swig of the whiskey. Sean reached back without taking his eyes off the water and clenched his hand around the bottle once it was placed in his palm. He took a drink, never really liking it all that much, and grimaced as the liquid burned its way down his throat.

"Ain't it beautiful?" Jimmy said as he sat down on the rocks. The last bit of sun disappeared almost right before their eyes.

"If you say so," Sean chuckled and took another drink.

They passed the bottle back and forth until they were both warm and drunk. Even though there was only a little light reflecting on the water from the street lamps back behind them, they continued to look out across the surface. There was some kind of tension between them, both could feel it and both were wondering if the other could feel it as well. They had another year together, but together was kind of a funny word for it. Sean would be at one place and Jimmy would be at another, so they weren't really together, were they?

"I can't wait to get out of here," Sean said casually as he took his last drink before passing the remainder of the bottle to Jimmy. His head was swimming, but it felt good. It felt like he'd dove into the river and became a fish just swimming and swimming...Jesus, he was pretty drunk.

Jimmy took his last drink, emptying the bottle. A bit of a laugh that was more of a snort escaped through his nostrils. Sean looked over at him but could hardly make his face out in the dark.

"College, I mean," Sean added as if it would lighten the mood any. It didn't.

"Yeah, you go on off to college, Sean. Do whatever it is you want to do." Jimmy stressed the hell out of the last words like he was adding his own special poison to them.

"Still got a whole year, Jim." Sean shrugged, suddenly feeling the chill of the night sinking in.

Jimmy made the little snorting noise again. Sean thought he'd pissed Jimmy off until his felt his friend's hand come to a rest at the back of his neck. Jimmy's grip tightened slightly as he pulled Sean to him just so their shoulders were touching.

"You're a good kid, Sean."

"You are too, Jimmy."

"Nah, nah," Jimmy shook his head, "I ain't good like you."

There wasn't much Sean could to say to that. Already, Jimmy had been running things like he was some hard-boiled veteran of the game and not some sixteen-and-a-half-year-old pushing around the Savages like they were huskies and Jimmy was a sled-driver.

It was that point, right there on the bank, that Sean realized that he and Jimmy would always be on different sides of things. In hindsight though, Sean knew that things had always been like that. They were like that when he and Jimmy were wrestling on the street outside of Sean's house on that day, and they would be like that some fifteen, twenty years later when Sean would meet Jimmy's eyes across the street, through the parade, and know that Jimmy Marcus had killed at least two men.