487 Jade Lane

Chapter Four: My Friday Night, For Lack of Words, Goes Up In Smoke

Max P.O.V

I know what you're thinking. How could I even think to call Ryan? It's his day off. Blah blah blah. It was my day off too! I know. I still feel a little guilty. And I might add that I was taken aback when I heard Deanna's tone over the phone, which makes me feel even guiltier. So let's let it lie, okay?

Friday had been uneventful. It was still fall, so football games in the chilly night were still the norm, but as for me, for this Friday at least, I'd been anticipating an evening at home. In my bed, in sweatpants, with Stephen King's Pet Sematary. And yeah, I guess you figure I have some of the most boring Friday night plans, and that yes, I shouldn't be so bent up over this. And you're right, absolutely right. And I would've agreed with you up until this past Tuesday when I'd been thrown a curveball.

The curveball had been thrown by God, and the ball in question were tickets to an NHL hockey game, my favorite team. My friend Sean had gotten tickets, but had broken his collarbone later in football practice, leading him to have surgery this Friday, leading me, his good friend, to be recipient of the tickets. And I'd been crazy excited. But instead, I'd been called to the police force to serve.

It's an honor to serve the police department. I know it's a privilege and I'm glad to have it. But sometimes, it's annoying. It's like when you get pizza for dinner and its great the first slice or two, but there's still pizza in the fridge. And it's your duty to finish it, because there are kids in other countries without food. So you trudge the next three days, trying to finish that pizza. And it's irritating because you might think of that yummy salami in the fridge your mom bought, right? Sike. You still have three day old pizza to eat. Being on the police force as an intern can kind of be like that.

The game only started at seven, so I knew I'd probably be able to make it if this whole thing wrapped up pretty quickly. I was only partially irritated until I'd called Ryan at the dance.

Ryan James was one guy I'd never been able to stay mad at for long periods of time. Not that he was someone that people were mad at a lot, (myself included) He had that goofy personality that could also be serious when he wanted to be, which never annoyed me much unless I was seriously sleep deprived and he was just being a pain for no reason. Ryan and I had been best friends since seventh grade, and he had brown hair, brown eyes, nice teeth. Girls swooned over Ryan, his charisma and his jokes, but how he was also insanely smart at the same time.

And yeah, I probably could've taken the case by myself. But the chief, Chief Creed, had insisted I call Ryan because he said it sounded like the right opportunity we needed, our first true first hand cop experience.

I'd called Ryan, and he'd answered in that whiny voice: Dude, today's my day off! Funny thing you mention that Ryan, considering it was my day off too. The one part I sympathized with was Deanna. I knew this would make her upset, and I knew that they never really got the time to hang out anymore, which did make me feel pity.

I didn't truly mind having my time constantly taken. I was paid a little, and I had time off for my sports, and I didn't exactly have a girlfriend at the moment. I'd gone out with this girl, Zoey for a few months, but I wasn't seeing her too lately anymore, which suited me just fine. More time to focus on my grades and my future.

Chief Creed had passed me through, and I'd been greeted by the worried chirp of a girl who I figured wasn't much older than I was. She spoke nervously, and had told me everything the Chief had already said. She and her boyfriend had dropped off a hitch hiker that her boyfriend had accidentally hit, and they'd heard gun shot, so they called the police. So within twenty minutes of the call, I'd pulled on more appropriate pants and a better shirt, and I was pulling into the large ominous house that resided on 487 Jade Lane besides a black '67 Chevy Impala.