"Hello John." John looked up from the sidewalk, about to start turning up the driveway to his house. Mr. McFarland idled his car next to him, ignoring the cars that had to go around him and drive on the wrong side of the street.

"Mr. McFarland."

"Glad to see you back in the neighborhood." John nodded. There wasn't much he could say to that. 'Great to see you too, Mr. McFarland. Hey, remember how the last time I really spoke to you was when you groped me on Halloween when I was 13?' He shoved his hands in his pockets and tongued the back of his chin stud, feeling it push out and stay there as he kept the weight if his tongue behind it.

No. That wouldn't do. Plus it would be a little embarrassing. "Staying?"

"I guess. Don't have much of a choice in the matter." Mr. McFarland smiled. John didn't remember his teeth being so white and he had cut his black hair down, almost like a buzz cut but a little longer.

"No, I guess you don't. Will you be working with your father on weekends now?"

"As a job, you mean? I dunno."

"Well, my brother is looking for help in his shop. If you'd like, I'll put in a good word for you." John nodded and tried to think of what kind of shop it was. It wasn't a sex shop; the nearest one was two towns over. "The surf store on Lilith?" John nodded. That was a manly enough job for his father, he was sure. "I'll see you then."

"Yeah. Thanks." Mr. McFarland rolled up his window and drove down the street, shifting onto the left side of the road, ignoring other car's horns as he switched to the proper lane, into his driveway. For the life of him, John wasn't quite sure how the hell that all had just transpired. Maybe, maybe it kept coming back to the crying on Mr. McFarland's Spanish tile.

"Dad? Dad, I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back by 12." His father grunted, still watching the footy game. John grabbed his jacket and walked outside. Eight o'clock and he's off his face, he thought. Been home what? Three days?

He wasn't even sure why he wasn't going to this party, other than both Marc and Ellis telling him not to be piker and show his ass there. And Kelly had invited him to her party. He knew he wasn't interested in her, not like that but he might as well act like he was interested in girls. It made things easier in the short run.

The walk was pretty nice, cool with the stars starting to come out. He walked up to her stoop and with a 'fuck it' knocked. She answered the door pretty quickly, smiling and inviting him in. "Put your jacket in there." He smiled, put his jacket on the bed and followed her to the kitchen. "There's beer in the cooler and every body's on the deck." She walked out through the screen door and grabbing a wet can, he followed.

"John!" He turned and saw Marc perched on a table, a cat next to him and his camera in his hands. He went over, breaking the tab. "You showed." John moved the cat over so he could sit, letting it purr against his hand and brush up against his thigh.

"Didn't have much of a choice."

"Sure you did. You just didn't want to look too overeager, that's why I had to goad you into it."

"Well, at least you didn't have to resort to black mail."

"Always the positive." John looked around, following Marc's camera's pan. Maybe, 60 people? That wasn't that huge for this big of a yard (Kelly lived on the right sound of town). And for the most part, no one seemed completely sloshed. "Tomorrow night, I've got to go to this club to get some shots. Want to come?"

"What's this one about?"

"Film noir. A mystery. Zombies. Want to be in it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No, not really." John drank some more and put down his can. "So what do you think of her?"

"Who? Kelly?"

"Course that's who."

"She's pretty. Seems nice."

"Pretty? Christ man, she's fucking beautiful."

"Someone's perving." Marc hit him with one hand, then waved at some guys who walk out onto the deck with another cooler. "She know you're cracking on her?"

"Dunno. She's got the lead though."

"Christ, Marc Verity's sign of true love. Giving someone the lead in one of his films. Bet she gets to improve her lines and everything."

"It's true. Keep's 'em coming dun it?"

"Ellis ever make his move on Rachel?"

"You kidding? Him, move on her? We've only been waiting for what, three years?"

"Still nothing? Christ."

"And you missed two years of it." Marc paused. "Sorry I-"

"No, I should be sorry. And I am."

"Hey, hopefully you were having fun. And you're alright."

"Yeah." John started his second beer. All in all the party wasn't that bad. Someone showed up with some mull, and John managed to finagle a joint without paying. That would probably come to bite his ass but at the moment, sharing it with Marc, Kelly and this other girl (John couldn't remember her name although he had the suspicion that she used to be in some of his classes) who kept staring at him, and some others, it wasn't all that bad. Until he looked at his watch and noticed it was nearly one. "Shit," he said, stumbling up. Marc looked up from where he sat with Kelly in his lap, her mouth attached to his ear.

"What?"

"Told my dad I'd be home by midnight."

"What time is it?"

"Almost one."

"Oh shit," said Kelly, standing. "I should start kicking people out."

"I'll help," said Marc. "See you later John." John nodded and headed off, looking for his jacket.

The cool air helped to clear his head as he jogged slowly. Hopefully his dad wouldn't notice that he was late. The back door was unlocked and he opened it slowly, hoping it wouldn't creak. Watching the floorboards he headed into the living room, the only way to get to the stairs and his room, wading through the dark and the sound of the TV. Hopefully his father had passed out in front of the TV. "You're late." His father was now watching a recap of the footy game he must have drank through.

"I uh, I um."

"You're late."

"Sorry. I lost track of the time. It won't, it won't happen again." His father was standing, moving to block John's way to the stairs.

"It better not."

"It won't, dead set." His father was still coming nearer. John hoped the closeness was based on alcohol's ability to remove any thought of personal space and nothing else.

"It, it shouldn't have happened in the first place." His father was slurring.

"Dad, I-"His father pushed John into the wall. "please." His father swung.

John curled under his blanket, tonguing the throb in his lip, gingerly twisting his chin stud, feeling the pads of his fingertips around the edge of the stud. His eye hurt, his chest too but he knew he should think himself lucky that his father had lost interest so quickly. Maybe if he were bigger, or not so afraid, he would have hit him back but John knew that wouldn't have changed anything. His dad still outweighed him, was still stronger, and still had more alcohol in him. He wouldn't have stopped. John had thought maybe, maybe by taking off his father had gotten help, or decided to stop or hell, taken some measure of responsibility and realized he was the reason John ran, the reason he had run in the first place (lighting the field on fire had been an accident, which John couldn't say for his father's kiss), but John knew that was stupid too. Things don't change.

Piker- someone who's anti-social (leaves parties earl and such)

Crack onto (someone)- hit on them, fancy them