Tami nocked on my window around 12. It was friday night, sometime before school let out, I had been home all night doing nothing as usual.
That night there had been a dance, 'Blast from The Past' being the theme. Getting thrown against a brickwall by an ape repeatedly sounded more entertaining then that dance. Exspecially for the onlookers.
Instead, I sat in my room, reading. Not quite hip enough for pop culture, but who cares? Halfway through my novel, the knock came and the wood framed screen rattled. I should of ingored it and kept reading.
Shame on me.
I went over to the window that over looks the porch, and there she was, head tilted just so her hair spilled solely over her left shoulder. Thumbs hooked in her belt loops.
Who could turn away?
Anyone who knew her.
"You missed it, Allen came to the dance on Vicatin and passed out in the corner, curled up like a kitten."
Poor me.
"It gets better, Dustin and Chris covered his ass in popcorn."
Sounds like it's right up there with my ape.
That's nice, I tell her. Do you need something?
"Yea, open your window so I can get in."
Tami never uses the door. Even though my mom isn't home and the door is 3 feet to her left, she insist on crawling through my window.
Just practicing she tells me.
After she's in my room she looks around it, shaking her head in disaproval.
"Don't you ever change anything in here?"
The sad part is, she's asked that question every time she's been in here. Even worse is my response, the echo to her redundant question, 'never'.
Tonight it was the same thing.
After my reply she lets out a little laugh and drops her body on the couch I call my bed.
So, now that you beguilled your way into my room can I ask what brings you around?
"You could, but I'll tell you anyway to save a few seconds. Tonight we're going out into the world."
Sounds painful.
Where to?
"It'll be a surprise." And she puts on her best smile, blinking twice to puncuate her feigned innocence.
To even further prove her falseness a car horn, sounded in my driveway.
"Our chariot awaits" she says, discarding the innocence in her face for a smirk.
Why do I have the feeling I have no say in the matter?
"Cause you don't."
Let me find my shoes.
Shame on me.

I hate techno.
There are two types of music I downright despise. Country music takes the honor of 'most'. There is something about twanging guitars, and the words 'Achy Breaky' that makes me wish for the Plague.
In a close second to Country music is Techno. Its simply boring, no matter how creative the sounds that it's creator uses, it all becomes a loop in my head.
A giant pattern.
One big fucking circle.
I sat in the back of the car, reflecting on how much I hated the music that was issuing forth from the speakers that surrounded me.
Up front, in the passenger seat, sat Tami, jerking her head to the bass beat of the songs. The driver, an older girl I had never seen before also was snapping her head back and forwarth. Together; they looked like a pair of those animals with a spring mounted head that moved to motion of your car.
The pulse of the beat matched their bobbing.
Which matched my own heartbeat.
Which made me feel like I was music.
Which made me wonder if I was high.
Which flat out worried me.
Which made me ask Tami to roll down her window.
Which allowed a moth to fly in the window.
Which resulted in it hitting my face.
Which caused a huge welt to appear on my cheek.
Another reason to hate techno.

For some reason I found myself waking up. Apparently the back of the car was warm; lulling me into that cozy numb state you get from laying on a beach.
When I woke up I found Tami smiling as she tried to stick a pen in my closed mouth. Leave it to her to ruin my slumber.
"We're here," she says, right before she bursts out laughing.
'Here' is a mystery. Dark is pretty much all I can tell about it from the wiew out the window. The driver shuts off the engine and instantly we're drowning in silence.
The only break from the ringing in my ears are the sounds of someone upfront shifting in their seat. Eventually someone sighs and Tami simply asks, "Ready?"
"Sure," replies the blond; speaking for the first time in my prescense.
Seatbelts clicking are followed by the sounds of doors opening; which garentees the ensuing blindness from the dome light. One by one, we step out into the dark, suddenly finding our skin stinging from the sudden change of climates; the warmth and humidity of the car immediatly forgotten as we are imersed in the sharp cold of the blackness.
"Damn," comes from the blond. Her answer is Tami's giggle; followed by my unseen glare towards the giggle.
A beam of pale electric ligh tears through the shroud of darkness as Tami turns on a flashlight.
"Single file, don't feed the animals, stay together, and please no flash photography. Now that we know the rules, follow me."
For the next half hour me and the blonde followed Tami's unnatural silloette through a darkness that I've only seen in my closet at night, when the house is empty and the closest light was the last car to pass my house; ten minutes before.
That was an odd day.
At one point we had to stop for the blond so we could untangle her hair from a low hanging branch that, moments before, had gotten a piece of my cheek.
My hate for techno came to mind.
"Shit," came from the blond in the darkness behind me, "A little help please?"

We reached our destination not long after freeing the blonde's hair from the tree's trecherous grasp. At one moment we were walking through a blackend forest, then abruptly the sense of containment dropped off and the leaves reflecting back Tami's flashlight beam dissapeared.
Tami announces our arrival.
"Stop here." Sigh; "Five feet in front of us the world ends, and it's a long drop."
"Oh" comes from the blonde.
I smile.