They arrived at their neighborhood just as the sun dipped below the rooftops and casting long orange shadows across the narrow street.
Mina smiled faintly as they walk toward her house.
"Eight o'clock?" she asked.
Clyde nodded. "I'll be there."
She hesitated for a moment because maybe wanting to ask more. But in the end, just gave a small wave and slipped into her house.
Clyde turned and continued toward his own house.
But the moment he opened the door, his eyes narrowed.
The living room was a mess.
Beer and another alcohol bottles scattered across the floor. Empty snack bags dumped onto the couch. Cigarette ash staining the rug.
In the center of it all was his uncle. Sprawled across the couch like a king on a broken throne, flanked by two large men in tank tops who were mid-laugh with drinks in hand.
Clyde stood silently in the doorway for a moment.
Then said coldly, "You're still here."
His uncle turned toward him with a drunken grin.
