Carol’s sky blue Festiva pulled into Mickey’s short slanted driveway. He rubbed his hands together and exhaled through rounded lips — watching the steam burst into the open starry sky. The door opened and legs jutted forth as evidence of a full, good natured ride. He nestled in — squirming his way to the middle — and a snaky haired new girl worked her way nearer. Her green eyes sparkled into his lap as the car lurched down the drive. She giggled and wriggled, bracing into position — holding his pelvis to the seat during turns.

Laughs and grunts sustained the long drive to outskirts and into a massive Indiana cornfield. John Mellencamp’s smoky voice supplanted Layne Staley on the radio. A dirt lot held 50-some cars. Squinting, they saw a long line; heard chainsaws; excited screams; maniacal laughter.

Mickey pulled his wool coat low to hide his now obvious excitement. The cold wind bit his face; he breathed into his hands and exhaled up to the constellations — looking for support — a way to frame the fleeting moment.

He sprinted to catch up and called out to Carol, “WAIT UP!”

The haunted house looked the part — even from 100 yards away. The dilapidated old shack had burned to the ground years ago leading serendipitously to a sight of realistic horror. The screams continued — accompanied by buzz saws, more fiendish laughter, and teenage giggles.

Snaky grabbed Mickey’s hand and rubbed it between her warm wrists.

“Are you cold?”

He nodded and cracked a nervous smile while brushing hair behind his ears.

“I’m Tess.” she duplicated the glittering gaze from the car.

Steam rose high above the crowd: collective breath: pulsing of adolescent angst. Conversation drifted lazily from grunge rock to social studies and soccer. The line piddled forward like middle schoolers after recess: the crowd inching with an absent blustering lust — feeding on the full moon light and catharsis of a thousand visible stars overhead.

She draped his arms around her waist inside the pitch black shack — squeezing tight through screams, frenzied breath, and bright knife light. Dark figures lunged around each corner. With each squeal, she held him tighter.

Out the other side, laughter released. The ragtag band strolled slowly toward the icy car. Two lagged behind playfully — ducking behind an old oak tree, pulling and kissing briefly before scurrying to the slow-moving car.