It was the Fourth of July, sort of. It was actually the sixth, there was rain during the fourth so they had to reschedule the fireworks, but people were celebrating all the same. At least, they were, now with all the festivities done and gone, the whole town was an O-zone layer destroying fiasco of trucks, minivans and police cars. Traffic was a real mess in the small, god-fearing town of Pelowel, though you would expect as much when you herd the entire population of the town into one small park.

As for me, I was walking home, a high school slacker with no car, and maybe a dollar or two in my wallet, busy resenting everyone around me quietly. It was partly out of jealousy, partly out of loneliness, mostly because I could never enjoy myself unless I had someone to talk to. I walked down the shoulders of the sidewalk-less road, lit up by the beaming headlights of the idling cars and the buzzing fluorescent signs of stores long closed. There were other kids too, strolling around in groups of three and four, chattering and laughing away the night, and here I was, alone to myself. My ex was in the lap of some bassist, most of my other friends were busy decaying in front of their computers, either that or they graduated and went off to some college millions of miles away from this suburban hell.

I hate being alone.