Part 1 "Jesus, we're going to be late again," I think to myself as I sit on the couch in the living room, head propped on one hand. It was Saturday, the night of the Doonsberg party and there was no getting out of it. The neighbors down the street had invited us to their mansion months ago. RSVPs had been made, calenders checked and rechecked, phone calls made. In short, it was a done deal. If ever there had been a night for a party, this was it. The full moon of the late summer's eve gazes down lazily over...
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