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    Dans La Nuit
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Summer Ended with a Storm - 1. Chapter 1

I ran and I ran until I couldn’t run anymore. I hid in an old abandoned warehouse. I could hear the police running after me. I took the jewels that I had stolen and wiped my prints from them. Then, I dropped them on the floor.

I ran out of the warehouse, but was immediately caught by some rent a cop security guard.

“Gotcha ya little fucker.” the chubby guard said.

“Let me go, rent a cop.”

“Original,” he chuckled. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The judge let me off with a warning since it was my first offense. But to my mother it wasn’t. I had been getting into a lot of trouble at school and shit like that.

“That’s it, I’m sending you to your grandfather’s in Oregon.”

“Mom, that’s 3000 miles away. You can’t do that.”

“Just for the summer. Your father learned good from him, maybe you will too.”

“Mom…mom you can’t.”

“It’s only for three months. Pack your things. I’m sending you tomorrow.”

* * *

I sat in the airplane in between a coughing lady and a six year old that wouldn’t stop poking me. Behind me was the six year old’s crying sibling sitting on their mother’s lap. I put my head back, put my ear buds in, turned my iPod on and turned it way up. I was only half way to Salem and I was already beginning to get annoyed.

I got off the airplane and took an airport bus to Meek, Oregon. At the Meek bus stop, I met my grandfather who I hadn’t seen since I was about eight years old at my father’s funeral. Now, at seventeen, I was a lot different, but my grandfather was the same; scary.

“Echem,” grampa cleared his throat. “Well haven’t you grown up.”

“It has been almost ten years.” I said.

He looked me up and down. I was wearing an old raggedy black hoodie some low rise jeans the showed my hip bones because my t-shirt was old and a little too small and a lot of bracelets.

“We’re gonna have to do something about that attire.” he said grumpily. He shook his head at me in disappointment. “Let’s go.”

Much like the state of New York, Oregon was covered in greenery, though, a little more greenery than I was used to.

This town, Meek, was as small as a rats asshole. We have small towns in New York, but this was ridiculous. We stopped at a general store/food market.

“I didn’t know what you liked to eat so, this is your chance to get it. Get what you want as long as it’s not too expensive.”

“Cool,” I said, looking around. I was a bit skeptical. I doubted that they would have what I wanted. I grabbed a few cereals and a few choice snacks and took grampa to the check out counter.

There was this really beautiful girl behind the counter with flowing dark brown hair and precious green eyes. Her name tag said ‘Amanda’. She smiled my way and I smiled back.

“Hey Mr. Summers.” She said.

“Hello Amanda. I want you to meet my grandson. He’s from New York. He’s spending the summer here. Although, not for the best reasons, I have to tell you.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s sweet.” said Amanda.

“Amanda, this is my grandson Dylan. Dylan, this is Amanda Ryan. Me and her grandfather fought in the war together.”

“Hey” I said to Amanda with a half-smile.

“H-Hey,” I said, sort of shyly. I wanted her to like me.

“That’ll be ten twenty-four.” she said after she rang the food up.

Grampa paid her.

“All right Amanda. See you at church tomorrow?”

“Of course Mr. Summers. See you tomorrow morning.”

Great. Church. This is going to be a fun summer. The last time I was in church was…never.

“I hope you have nice clothes for church, Dylan. If not I guess you’ll have to go in whatever you have. The nearest clothing store is twenty miles away.”

“I don’t really have any nice clothes.” I said, which was true.

“Oh well. We have one more stop before home.”

Grampa pulled up to a hardware store. We sat for a while.

“Now listen to me here, son. This here isn’t a vacation. I hope you didn’t expect to come here and be treated like a king. The owner of this store here, Norm, owes me a favor. I’ve gotten you a job here. It consists of just regular things I guess. Helping customers, lifting shipments, stocking shelves and manning the register.”

I wanted to sigh, but from the stories that I heard of my grandfather from my father when I was younger, I concluded that sighing probably wasn’t a good idea.

“Okay,” I said.

Grampa and I walked into the hardware store. An older man, not quite as old as grampa, maybe a decade or so younger, stood behind the counter. I assumed he was Norm.

“Hey Norm.” said Grampa. I was right.

“Hey John. This must be the infamous Dylan.” said Norm with a chuckle. “Hey, Dylan. I’m Norm.”

Norm stuck his hand out and I shook it.

“Well, you won’t start for a few days, but it’s good to meet you.” said Norm.

“Good to meet you too.” I said with little enthusiasm.

“I’m looking forward to having a third hand around here. Nick will be so relieved.”

“Who’s Nick?” I asked.

“He’ll be your co-worker.” said Norm.

“Cool,” I said.

“He’s only a few years older than you. He’s nineteen.” said Norm.

I nodded and looked around the store for him.

“He has today and tomorrow off. He’s been working really hard this week so I decided to give him a break. He’ll probably be at the lake with his girlfriend all weekend.”

“Well, it was good seeing you, Norm. See you tomorrow at church.” said grampa.

Damn, does everyone in this town go to church?

* * *

“This is the guest room, but I guess it’s your room for the summer. It’s not much, but it’s gonna have to do.”

I looked around. The walls were bare and painted white. There was a twin bed with white sheets and a grey blue blanket. On one side of the bed was a lamp and on the other side was a wooden nightstand with an alarm clock on top and two junk drawers below it. Opposite the bed was a wooden dresser/drawer that matched the wood of the lamp stand and the nightstand. One the ceiling was a plain ceiling fan. It was the most boring room I’d ever been in.

“You don’t mind if I…”

“Decorate it how you want as long as it’s not permanent and you don’t poke holes in the walls. I may have been hard on your father when he was young, but I’ve learned my lesson.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked.

“I was so hard on him that I chased him 3000 miles away from home.”

Grampa left and I put my bags on the floor. I plopped on the bed and it squeaked as I bobbed up and down. I folded my hands beneath my head and stared up at the plain ceiling.

I got up and took my hoodie off. It was stifling and humid. My hair was starting to stick to my forehead. My bracelets rattled as I shook my wrist to untangle them. They looked a bit weird on my bare arm, but I didn’t have the will to take them off. I went to the living room where grampa was reading a newspaper.

“I’m going for a walk.” I said.

“Okay, just don’t get lost. That happens easily around here.” said grampa.

“You have your cellular phone don’t you?” he asked.

“Call me if you need any help.” he said.

Grampa looked up from his news paper.

“You should change before you go out.”

“Why? I look fine.” I said.

“Dylan your t-shirt is so high and your blue jeans are so low that I can see your hip bones.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s not like you can see my belly button. Then you’d have to worry.”

He chuckled a bit. “Okay. Just, try to dress a little bit more conservatively from now on. It’s different out here than in New York.”

I walked out of the door and a wave of humidity hit my face. I instantly felt the moisture and the heat.

I started walking and not before long, a car pulled up next to me.

“Dylan right?”

It was Amanda.

“Yeah,” I said leaning in the window.

“Nice ride.” I said.

“Thanks. Listen, I just got off of work and was going to take a dip in the lake. Do you wanna come?” asked Amanda. I looked inside of her care and she was wearing a towel the no doubt had a bikini under.

“I would, but I don’t have anything to swim in.”

“You don’t have to swim. You can keep my towel company. Look, there’s a bunch of kids that’ll be over there. You can meet the town.”

“Do it,” I heard a voice say behind me. I turned around and saw a kid maybe a little younger than me or maybe even the same age.

“And you are?” I asked.

“Andy Roark, nice to meet ya. And, ah, you should go. The lake is cool fun.”

“Andy, you can come too if you want.” said Amanda.

“Um, I gotta go pick up something at the general store for my mom, but I’ll be up there in a minute.”

“Well, since everyone goes. I guess I might as well.”

I walked over to the passenger side of Amanda’s car. It seemed to be an a late 70’s model of an American made vehicle; maybe Chevy or Ford.

“So, our grandfathers know each other.” I said as she drove.

“Yeah, for years. They go way back. Even before the war. I guess they were childhood friends or something. I don’t know the whole story.”

“Cool.”

We arrived at the lake and it was full of people, kids around my age mostly. As soon as I got off the car a group of girls stared at me and did that giggle that girls do. You know the one when they think a guy is hot. I knew it well. I get that a lot. Unfortunately, my interests lean towards the male spectrum of the species.

I haven’t told anyone, but my best friend at home that I’m gay. It’s no one business but mine. I choose who I want to tell and who I don’t. I just told my best friend Tina because I just had to tell at least one person or I was going to burst.

So, Amanda happened to walk up to these group of girls and introduce me. It figures. Now it’s going to be awkward. There was a dark blond haired girl called Denise, a black haired girl called Judith, and a brown haired girl called Ava. They all just looked at me and giggled.

“I…think I’m gonna go over and sit in the sun.” I said.

“Okay,” said Amanda.

I walked over to an empty spot and laid down. I didn’t mind getting my clothes dirty, they were raggedy already anyway. I closed my eyes and let the late afternoon sun hit my skin.

“Sun block?” I heard Amanda say.

I opened my eyes and looked up. I took the bottle she handed me.

“Thanks I said.”

She laid her towel beside me and laid on it.

“Sorry about my friends. They just think you’re really cute.”

“Huh?” I asked.

“Have you ever seen Mean Girls?”

“No.” I lied.

“Well, in the movie, two friends tell Lindsay Lohan’s character that she’s a regulation hottie. That’s basically what you are, but don’t tell any of the local boys that. They have to go through so much to be one of those and you do it without even trying.”

“Joy,” I said sarcastically. I started to spread the sun block on my arms and a little on my face.

“If you’re uncomfortable with it, then you should probably stop dressing like that.” said Amanda.

“Like what?”

“With you jeans all low like that. The girls here aren’t used to that and are probably going to go intro orgasms just at the sight of it.”

“Like your friends just did?” I asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” she said giggling.

“Well, I’m sorry, but this is how I dress. I always have I suppose. Well, at least for as long as I could dress myself.”

“I guess us girls will just have some eye candy for the summer.” said Amanda with a suggestive smile, but I didn‘t really notice until right before she stopped. “I’m going to get in. Will you watch my towel?”

“Sure.” I said.

A second later she was in the lake splashing with her friends and that kid Andy was sitting beside me in grey and yellow board shorts, a yellow t-shirt and Ray Ban style sunglasses.

“You do know that you’re in Oregon and not California right?” I asked.

“Yeah, there’s no reason why we can’t have some California fun.” said Andy.

“I guess not.” I said with a smile.

“Dude, I can’t believe that you got Amanda Ryan to talk to you. She’s like the hottest chick in town.” said Andy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but I would watch out if I were you. She had a thing with Blake Jensen and they broke up a few days ago, but he has this property complex when it comes to Amanda, and he‘s the town asshole.”

“Well, I don’t plan on trespassing on his property any time soon.” I said.

“Dude, why not? Amanda obviously likes you.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Oh, do you have a girl back home or something?” asked Andy, looking above his sunglasses at me.

“No, it’s not that. I just have my reasons.” I said.

I wasn’t ready to divulge my personal business to a total stranger. I hadn’t even told my own mother yet.

“It’s cool. I know we just met and all. You don’t have to tell me.” said Andy. Anyway, I’m getting in. It’s super hot.

Andy took off his yellow t-shirt, threw it beside me and ran into the lake. He came back out a few minutes later. As soon as he got out, he was swarmed by a group of big guys. I got up and walked over. They looked like they were pushing him around.

“Hey pussy. What’re doing in our lake? I thought I told you to stay away.” said the guy pushing at Andy’s chest.

I walked up. “Hey, Andy. Are you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good Dylan.”

“No one’s talking to you shit-face.”

“Oh you must be Blake Jensen. I’m sooo sorry. I didn’t understand you. I don’t speak douche bag.” I grabbed Andy and walked into the other the direction.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, turned around, but ducked Blake’s punch and punched him in the gut. He moaned in pain.

“Oh, sorry, did that hurt? Maybe you should think about not being such a meathead sometimes and you might get a shot in with me.” I said as he moaned in pain on the floor.

Andy and I walked away, picked up his t-shirt and left as Blake’s goons helped him up. Andy and I walked to his house.

“Dude, thanks again for the assistance. Blake and his friends have been on my case since the sixth grade. I’m just one person, ya know. I can’t fight ‘em off.”

“Well, not anymore. You’ve got me now.” I said. “If they give you anymore trouble just give me a call. You know my grampa’s number right?”

“Yeah, yeah I do. Thanks again. I’ve never had a friend like you before. Someone to stick up for me.”

“No prob. See you tomorrow I guess.”

Andy went inside. I started to walk back to my grampa’s. It was still a long walk, about a mile. When I got there, he was waiting for me in front room.

“You heard.” I said.

“Gina Roark called me. Andy told her what you did for him.”

“Look, gramps, I’m sorry, but that guy was asking for it.”

“Listen, I don’t want you fighting. You’ve given your mother enough problems I don’t need you giving me problems too.”

“I’m sorry grampa. It won’t happen again.”

Grampa smiled. “Still, I’ve been waiting for someone to teach that Jensen kid a lesson for a long time. I’m proud that it was you.”

I smiled and started walking to my room.

“That doesn’t mean that I condone your fighting.” Gramps walked over and ruffled through my hair. “Dinner’s up in ten.”

“Okay,” I said with a smile.

Copyright © 2011 Dans La Nuit; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I'm about to read the third chapter, and I have to say I like the story so far. The first chapter was a little rough, but,you got my attention, and I am still reading.I read a great deal. I mean volume-wise, I read a great deal. I read mysteries, sci-fi, horror, and yeah, even a bit of that Gothic stuff...I read the True Blood books.I am telling you this because I think since I read a lot, and am very particular about what I read, I think you might feel a little honored to be included with Dean Koontz, Stephen King Dan Brown, to name a few of the authors I read. Keep up the good work.In case you think this note is so I can toot my own horn...It is your work I am praising.RC

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Gramps and grandma's are about as good as the world gets; at least mine were. Thanks for the reminder. 

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