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Louis sank back against the lockers, dumbfounded. Had that really just happened? Shaking his head to clear it of the beautiful blue-eyed boy, he picked up his skateboard and trudged down the other end of the empty hallway.

After checking to make sure his Dad's car wasn't in the driveway, he went inside and grabbed his guitar and a pack of cigarettes. As soon as he'd adjusted the house to make sure you couldn't tell he had come, he was on his way.

The ride to the graveyard is long but he doesn't care. He likes the quiet. The peaceful sound of wind whistling past his ear. The small adjustments his body makes to stay on the board. He darts through alleys and sails down sidewalks, ignoring the stares at the boy with the guitar.

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