Last December by Matt Beam

Author:Matt Beam
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780143176602
Publisher: PENGUIN GROUP (CANADA)

So I found the trail down to the Doors, because I guess Trevor or Alistair told me which way to go, and my legs knocked snow off the branches that hung over the path and made tiny little lines of snow on the ground. It was a bit icy in patches but not really slippery ice, I guess because it was warmer, and when I got down to the bottom of the trail it was darker but I could sort of see the Doors, which looked like steel ones in the side of the hill like some sort of secret passageway, and a small group of people were huddled around there, but I couldn’t see any faces. All I could see were the heaters on the end of some lit cigs, and it kind of looked like they were fireflies, orange ones, which I thought looked pretty cool.

And then I heard some conversation and some giggling, and then all of a sudden someone went “Shhhhhhhh,” and it got totally quiet, and as I walked a bit closer, my feet crunching on snowy leaves and sticks, I got kind of nervous, so I said, “Trevor?” and then there was more silence and then this deep voice said, “No Trevor here. … What the eff do you want?” and I stopped and went, “Oh, um, sorry,” and I didn’t know what to do, because sometimes turning and running is kind of the worst thing you can do, and then all of a sudden one of them started cracking up, and then all of them were, and then I heard Trevor’s voice. “Mike! It’s me, man,” and he laughed some more and said, “You shoulda heard yourself, ‘Oh, um.’ You were totally freaked out!” and then everyone kept laughing, and I walked up with my hands in my pockets. “You scared the eff outta me, man,” I said with butterflies in my stomach and my eyes all over the place, and a girl kind of snorted like I was a total dork, and I finally settled my eyes. There was Alistair, Trevor, and a couple of girls I didn’t know.

“Mikey,” Alistair said, “this is Charlene and Leslie,” and I said, “My name is Steven,” and Alistair waved a hand at me. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying. His name is Mike,” and I said, “No it isn’t,” and then he pointed an open beer bottle at me from his other hand and said, “Look at him. Does he look like a Steven?” and then he took a big swig, and one of the girls, who had a shirt with the collar turned up underneath a heavy sweater and jean jacket, said, “No, he doesn’t. Hi, Mike. I’m Leslie,” and I said, “Hi,” which was totally embarrassing for some reason, and the other girl, Charlene, just took a drag of her long, thin, brown cigarette and didn’t say anything because I guess she was snobby or something, and then Alistair said, “This is Mikey’s

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