Ezekiel's POV
The bonfire at Allen's Field blazed against the darkness, sending orange sparks spiraling toward the stars. Music pounded from someone's pickup truck while clusters of students gathered around coolers and car hoods, their laughter cutting through the crisp air.
Half the school had shown up despite it being a weeknight. Typical small town behavior - any excuse for a party.
I stood with Anton and the other guys near the fire's edge, nursing a Coke and pretending to care about their endless rehashing of the recent game. Anton was riding high on adrenaline, his voice carrying across the field as he bragged about some touchdown pass. Kane strutted around like he owned the place, retelling plays that made him sound like the second coming of Tom Brady.
I wasn't listening to any of it.
