Free Drift (Drift Series) by Michael Dean Page A

some chow, we arrived at Darryl’s house and parked among the many cars that were snaked along the roadside at the base of his driveway. We sat in my car eating before going into the party and were pleasantly amused watching other late attendees struggle up the steep driveway. You could see their pace slow to a stagger as they reached the halfway point. Some even gestured like they were out of breath. We couldn’t help but joke about them.
    A ton of people were already partying. I remained on the lookout for Shade or her friends. It was hard to tell if she was here or not. I didn’t see Sandra’s car. She might already be up at the party and I just missed them. I was still a little fearful that she may not come, even though Darryl did his best to make an honest apology to her.
    “Oh man, this party is gonna be live! Leo, hurry your slow butt up and eat so we can get to the show, baby.” Scruffy got out of my Mustang after polishing off his meal.
    “Calm down. I’m finished , anyway. I can’t eat any more.” I sealed the paper around the half-eaten hamburger and tossed it into the bag with a thud.
    “Cool, let’s do this thing , then!” Scruffy threw his arms in the air in excitement.
    Music thumped from Darryl’s home at the top of his ridiculous driveway. As we climbed the brutal hill, the music grew louder and louder. You could distinctly hear the sounds of laughter and chatter from the attendee’s the closer we got. As loud as the music was, I distinctly heard Scruffy over it, sucking air due to the stress of the incline.
    “I hate this damn hill. God forbid if I need to run to the car for anything more than once over the course of the night. I need to tote a defibrillator just in case I go into cardiac arrest climbing this sucker.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh at his plight. I felt just fine, not tired at all. Scruffy apparently noticed my demeanor . “Shut up, Leo.”
    I tried to stifle my laughter but it didn’t work.
    Although winded, we finally made it to the top. A sea of heads hung around outside of the house. Everyone held some kind of cup, probably filled with beer, and were smiling and chatting amongst themselves. I looked up at the massive structure to see if maybe Darryl opened the two remaining floors, something I’ve been told he never does, and saw that the second and third floors were indeed off limits to the partygoers.
    Darryl’s home is absolutely sensational, a testament to his parent’s work ethic and good fortunes. It ’s one of the most luxurious homes in town, an extraordinary Colorado log structure. Blending perfectly with the vast wilderness that surrounds it, by the way people speak about it in Mountainside, it seems it’s the envy of everyone who dreams of success there.
    The home contains three floors; the basement is at the bottom , of course, the second floor houses his parents’ bedroom, a kitchen area, and couple of living and dining areas. The entire third floor is Darryl’s bedroom. His room alone is bigger than most people’s homes, another shining example of how spoiled that kid is.
    With the exclusion of Darryl’s close friends, the bedrooms have never been seen by anyone else. Darryl makes it seem as if it’s some kind of privilege to be able to hang out with him in his room.
    The basement is essentially a game -slash-media room with some lengthy couches and comfortable chairs sprinkled around. Scruffy has mentioned that most of the time, people rarely stay inside at all, other than the occasional game or two of foosball or ping pong. Outside is where we’re supposed to chill, according to Darryl. Besides, this many people couldn’t fit inside anyway.
    Out back was a large Olympic-sized pool and a bubbling spa. We preferred to sit at the many umbrella-covered tables with stand-alone iron benches around the concrete patio. Sometimes, if Darryl was feeling generous, he let some people barbeque hamburgers and hotdogs on the two enormous grills. Tonight, the