"Hey, hey!" Grant Silvers greeted me as he opened up Kyle Garrison's front door. His face was already red. I could smell the alcohol on him. I looked at my watch. It was 15 minutes to nine.
"I thought the party started at nine."
"Well, yeah." Silvers confirmed. "Doing a little set up." He pointed a finger at me. "What are you doing here? Early?"
"Set up," I said, stepping inside and closing the door behind me.
It felt good to be in Kyle Garrison's home. I always found his home to be so comforting, probably because it looked as if a normal family lived in it. His mom had plenty of knick-knacks and photos around. She was always baking brownies or taking care of Kyle's little brothers. His brothers were staying with some friends and all the knick-knacks and photos around the living room had already been removed and tucked away. Still, the house felt the same. I plopped down on a couch and took a deep breath.
"Where were you at lunch, Michaels?" Sam King said when he saw me in the living room. He was holding a beer can. I wondered how much beer they had.
"I was skipping," I said and that was the truth. King laughed, apparently impressed.
