“See, the best thing is to just keep it a secret. That’s my advice to you. You get what you want. Keep shit a secret. And who really cares what happens after that? It’s not like you’ll never get a chance again. I mean, seriously, do you plan on dying in this shithole of a town?”

I leaned against a tree that was already leaning. A bottle of cheap booze was in my right hand, barely touched. The whole notion of sipping whiskey in the woods had lost its fun. A while ago, actually.

My best bud - nicknamed Night - stood with a cigarette between his lips. He turned to the side and unzipped his jeans, whipping himself out to take a leak.

“You hear me, Daw?” he asked with a sly grin, ashes breaking off from the tip of his cigarette.

We all had nicknames. Stupid nicknames, at that. All based off our real names. I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to be part of a crew or gang or something like that. I got the name Daw from Maddox. It started with Maddox turning into Madd, Madd turning into Maddog, Maddog becoming just Dog. And then one of our friends, Diver, who was from down south, called my name one night in that long drawl of his and it echoed as “Dawwwww.”

So, there’s a piece of history that meant nothing.

“I hear you,” I said. “I guess we think different, Night.”

“Fuck that,” he said. He wiggled back and forth, hosing down a couple trees and some stuff on the ground. Then he zipped up and wiped his hands on his jeans. He took his smoke and flicked it into the creek where it died a quick death. “Look at me, Daw. Look at what I’m doing in life. Shit is good for now. You think too much into the future. You ain’t going to marry this chick. You know that. Come on. She’s a good fuck, for now. Think of her like a car: something newer and shinier will come along.”

“I don’t know how you get laid,” I said with a smile. “You’re a total asshole, man.”

Night clamped a hand on my shoulder. I cringed, remembering how that hand was just holding his dick as he pissed.

“Take it easy,” he said, his breath smelly and tangy like smoke.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a date,” he said.

I shook my head. “You’re going to get busted one of these days.”

Night stepped back and lifted his fist. His knuckles were scarred pretty badly. He was once a boxer but then he started street fighting for fun. He touched his huge middle knuckle with his other hand.

“This right here… it silences any doubt,” Night said. “Any fucking doubt, Daw. And if you can’t see that or understand that, then I don’t know what to tell you. The world ain’t what they show on TV or in the newspaper. You make it your own and if it gets out of line, you get back in line.”

Night grabbed the bottle of whiskey from my hand and threw it back.

Drinking and driving was just one of his things. There was a laundry list of things wrong with Night, and drinking and driving didn’t even make the top five. Hell, standing there in the woods, alone, I realized I was one of the last ones who put up with his shit. Everyone begged me to get away from him. I just wanted to save him from himself or hurting someone else.

Funny thing about that night in the woods?

I’d never see Night alive again.

* * *

My phone buzzed and I looked at the screen, smiling.

She wanted to meet at the top of the ridge. The spot where we all went to hang out, drink, smoke, get noisy, sneak away to places where nobody would see us, but most of all, the ridge was the flat surface that used to be some kind of bridge over the river. It had to be at least two hundred feet in the air, if not more. And directly across the river was another ridge. That one was impossible to get to, though, unless you crossed the river.

There was nothing wilder than standing on the edge of the ridge and looking down at the river. Knowing damn well that one slip, fall, whatever, and you were fucked. You’d have enough time as you fell to really think about life and by the time you hit the water and rocks, you were dead.

It was the place where I could stand and look down and feel my knees literally begin to shake, my body tighten with intense fear, and my stomach feel like it was going to let loose.

What a fucking feeling.

I jumped on my dirt bike and let her cry and squeal through the woods as I followed the trails that we all cut. Years of riding, we made our own trails and paths. The woods were forever ours. And if the cops were dumb enough to chase us, we knew where to go, how to hide, and we’d leave those fuckers in the dust. They were now smart enough to not chase us into the woods, especially on foot. All they wanted was for us to stay off the main roads and hide.

So that’s what we did.

I rode my bike to the base of the ridge. Nobody had been able to get a dirt bike up to the top. Slimy tried once and got about a quarter of the way up before his back tire kicked out on some rocks and he jumped off. His bike flew forward and went over the edge and rolled down into the river. After that, nobody else tried.

I parked my bike and hiked my way up.

Something had been wrong with her for the last few months. She was distant. She was quiet. It was like she hated me or just hated herself. I couldn’t get through to her on anything. Almost like she was a fucking ghost. I hated it.

That’s why I had met up with Night: to get his thoughts. Which was a mistake. All he cared about was scoring pussy and controlling it. To him, if she was distant to me then so be it. That gave me the chance to fuck other chicks. I didn’t want that, though. No matter how rough and tough anyone thought I was, I didn’t fly that way.

I believed in truth.

And the truth was waiting for me.

I fucked up, though.

I rode my dirt bike, which came with a warning.

By the time I got to the top of the ridge, she was standing there alone. There was blood on her face. A cut at her left eye. She looked at me, already crying.

“What’s going on?” I asked her.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry, Maddox.”

“Sorry for…”

I heard the cry of a dirt bike starting and quickly speeding off.

I ran to the other side of the ridge and looked down. It was a long slope, nothing like the drop off behind me into the river. I caught the faint glimpse of another dirt bike as it took off.

That’s when my heart sank.

I spun around. She had taken a few steps back, nearing the edge. The dangerous edge.

“Who…”

I saw a pair of panties on the ground. They were ripped. They were hers. I looked at her again. The blood at the corner of her eye.

“Who hurt you?”

She pointed to the ground again.

I looked and saw an empty bottle of whiskey. The cheap ass whiskey that I had been drinking.

The bottle that…

“No,” I whispered. “Did he force himself…”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Maddox.”

“Wait,” I said. “You two? Together? Willingly? You wanted him to?”

I felt like I was going to throw up.

I imagined myself beating the shit out of Night. Strangling him. Breaking his fucking wrist because I knew the blood on her face was his doing.

Distraction became my enemy as she took another two steps back.

I snapped back to reality, trying to process what the fuck was actually happening.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

Then she threw a piece of a paper to the ground.

And she jumped.