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I hate walking home like this. Every step I take is one step closer towards my house. One step closer towards being grounded. Once I'm in the house, stepping into that door, I'm not coming out until Monday, at the least. This is awful. It's supposed to be Friday, the FIRST Friday of Summer, damn it.

The clouds above me taunt me with their freedom. I look back and stare at the last glimpse of the school building I would have before turning onto my street. If I didn't have that stupid English class, I'd be free this weekend. But, no, Mr. Myre had to be the most anal teacher around. C minus my ass.

I turned my muzzle to the ground now that my house was within sight. They had to email report cards THIS early. They couldn't wait until later, until after the weekend? I'll be stuck behind my door, letting the bright days pass by while I'm bitched at for my grades.

The front door of my house was only a few feet away. I could see the shadow of my mother hanging around the front window. This is just miserable. I pawed the doorknob and shook out a whimper; I was supposed to hang out with Don tonight.

I've been staring at the clock for almost four hours. [6:49]. My mom had already pulled the xBox and laptop from my room while I was at school, and once I got home she took my phone too. She wouldn't even let me text Don to tell him that I couldn't make it tonight. But, according to mom, my grades don't warrant me to be hanging out with friends. I don't know how much it mattered since I'm not in school anymore. Then my dad added more complaints about me not doing my chores. He brought it up completely out of nowhere, and, I'm pretty sure, it was just for the sake of yelling at me.

The whole time I zoned out, choosing not to hear, looking at my phone in my mother's wolven paws and thinking, "Don's going to be so fucking pissed when I'm not there."

I started getting bored and rummaged through my closet, hoping to find something that hadn't been seized by my parents to pass the time. Maybe my old game boy would be in there, buried under all the antiquities of my youth that I stuff lazily behind the shutters of my closet whenever I'm told to clean my room. But my attention was captured by a faint murmur. Filled with white noise and static, it almost sounded like a radio.

Within the static I heard faintly, "Con ~~~~~ nno~ Connor?"

Is someone calling my name? I followed the bizarre callings to a small pile of old toys from middle school, a Walky-Talky buzzing under an old red back-pack.

I remember now. The two way radio with which I used to play Soldier. To play soldier with Don, that is. I grabbed the one-mile ranged transceiver and adjusted the frequency until there was more than only fuzz.

"Connor, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Captain, I copy." I used my best imitation of a soldier that my older and less flagrant imagination could produce. I hear laughter from his side.

"You still have this thing?"

"Yep, I see that you do?"

"Yep."

"Why have you been ignoring me?" I stopped to think. I have? oh, I remembered my SEIZED phone.

"My parents grounded me. I can't use my phone."

"Well shit. Can you still come out tonight?" What do you think? Have you never heard the term 'grounded' before. It must be completely foreign to him.

"No, I cant." I say with a little contempt.

"Not even sneak out?"

The proposition caught my attention. I could possibly do that. I'd do anything to not be locked in on my first weekend of Summer. My parents would still be in the way, though, constantly on guard until they pass out.

"It's too early to do it. My parent's will check in before they go to sleep, and the movie's for eight, isn't it?"

"Nah, John and Kim cancelled on the movie. It was just going to be you and me, and the movies are crowded anyway, so I thought we'd go to the lake-front instead."

The lakefront? At night? Would that be wise, or even eventful? Standing by the concrete pilings and tossing stones while possible rapists or murderers or druggies lurked around us. I can't imagine any other type of reasonable person being there.

"I dunn'o, watching paint dry is kind'a fun. Think I'd rather stay in." That was a lie, I thought, but sneaking out was risky. I could get locked in longer, and for what, a chance to doddle around the water.

"You don't get it, I got some stuff."

Stuff? Could he be more vague? That is the most meaningless word in existence.

"What stuff exactly?"

"Liquor," he said with a giddy yip, just like the fox he is, "a full bottle."

That was, actually, an enticing offer. I've done a lot to get under my parents' skin, but never drank.

"Oh, really now."

"Yeah, I can't drink it alone, so come along. How about I be on your street for ten."

I looked back at my door. My parents somewhere behind it in the house. They'd be asleep soon, definitely before ten. It was an enticing offer: a chance to get drunk, a chance to rebel, a chance to hang out with Don. There was a risk involved, though. What if not parents, but an actual authority caught us? Would an officer be kind enough to let us off the hook if he saw us with alcohol.

"I still dunn'o - "

"CONNOR, who are you talking to?" A booming bark breached through my door.

Shit. I silenced the speaker. "Nobody."

"You're supposed to be grounded. So shut it up."

"Yes sir," I yelped back.

Overbearing, loud, unfair, fickle, overreacting jackass. He and my mom make just a perfect couple.

I waited for him to walk away before I dialed the speaker back up. My canine teeth gritted and my claws clenched, my ears bent to my muzzle.

"Jesus," Don vibrated from the radio.

"Yeah, I'll go." Still with a gritted tone.

"Really?" Don sounded surprised.

"Yeah, I'll be out as early as possible."

"Copy, Cadet."

That made me smile; he even did the voice, just like he used to do a few years ago. I put down Don and began to wait out my parents.

They gave me a few more shouts, before ascending the stairs to their bedroom. I waited fifteen minutes to make sure, and with the clock at [9:49] the timing couldn't have been better. I slowly, and quietly, slid the front window open, dashing out and closing it. I darted around the houses, so that I couldn't be seen from their window, until I reached the street corner, next to the red stop sign that had vulgar drawings painted on it.

Don came dashing up a few moments later, his red-brown tail lashing around his legs. He had a blue knapsack on his back and his fox ears were perking straight up. He's wearing that white muscle shirt again.

"You made it." He told me.

"Thanks to your Walky."

"A last-ditch effort, Cadet." He smiled at me.

"Ha, great work, Captain."

We instinctively began walking the mile or two between the corner and the northern lake.

"So what'd they ground you for this time?"

"I got a C."

"I got three. What class was this in?" He didn't sound like he believed me.

"Myre's class."

"English is supposed to be the easy A," he laughed. "It's also the least valuable class, so it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, but now I'm grounded until Monday."

"The whole weekend, at the beginning of Summer?"

"Yeah." Exactly the first thing I was upset about.

"Damn, and I was gonn'a invite you over." He droned almost inaudible.

"Oh, by the way, what happened to John and Kim?"

"I dunn'o, they just said they weren't going," he said with hesitation. I swore that I saw his eyes dart.

I shrugged. Those two were only ancillary. Don was more fun to be with, and, apparently, he has booze.

"So, liquor huh?"

"Yep," he padded his knapsack proudly.

"From where?"

"Paid some dude, a street Lion, to get it for me."

We both laughed, but I felt such a rush from the idea alone. Procuring alcohol illegally, drinking it illegally, breaking the rules illegally. Just imagining the scrunching muzzles of my parents if they knew I was doing this gave me a jump. And, if I did get caught by police, my parents would explode.

The lake itself was close, only hidden by a levee'd hill. I was about to take the gravel path, which lead to the small dock that I had thought would be the destination, seeing as it's the only structure on the whole south side of the lake, but Don stopped me.

"Nah, I got a better spot."

He does? Well, the dock would have been conspicuous.

He pulled my arm, and I followed him up the levee and a few yards down the lake into a small group of live-Oaks, and he sat me down next to a tree that had good sight of the lake. I looked up to check for caterpillars, those Buck Moth ones that sting, and got stuck looking into the leaves. The moon was partially visible within the dangling branches.

"No one will see us here." He told me when I gave him a questioning look. Right, not being seen is what you're supposed to do when you break the rules.

He unzipped his bag and yanked out a glass bottle of brown whiskey.

"How much did you pay him?" I asked.

"The Lion? like forty." I laughed. "What?"

"My dad buys that brand. It's like a fifteen dollar whiskey."

"Oh I'm sorry," he pulled the bottle away from me, "I won't share, since it's so substandard." He stuck his tongue out.

"I was joking," I said while climbing over him to take the bottle, without much resistance. "fifty proof is plenty."

"That's half pure?" He asked while I untwisted the cap.

"one fourth." With a pop, the cap ripped off. I took a baby sip and almost coughed at the intense, bitter taste.

"Lemm'e." He grabbed the bottle, and had almost as bad a reaction. "It's not that -" he grunted " - bad."

"It's awful," as I took another sip. We drained the neck of the bottle feeling nothing but sore tongues.

"So you really kept that radio. It's, like, three years old."

"Yep. I had it on my shelf." Don told me back.

"I just had it buried in my closet." I felt a little guilty for tossing my end of our childhood toy. "Why'd we ever stop playing?"

"Dunn'o," he took another, deeper, sip. "Wait, that was the year we met Kim, right?"

"Yeah, seventh grade," the memories flooded back to me. The tall and light blue furred feline who interrupted our little soldier game. Every day went from trying to have fun to trying to impress the new companion. It didn't help once John became competition too.

"We stopped 'cause you were trying to get into her pants." He started laughing, cackling even.

"So what, what's so funny?" The liquor only mildly sedated my aggravation.

"John got in 'em first."

"What?" John? Big-wide-and-stupid? "No he hasn't."

"They didn't cancel the movie, we just got kicked out." He was laughing again.

"No way."

"Hold on," Don pulled out his phone and flipped through a few pages, finally pointing the screen at me. It was opened to Kim's Instagram, and the most recent photo was of her smooching John the Elk on the cheek, at the movie theater. It was only thirty minutes old.

"Fucking unbelievable." I took a sip from the bottle. Don took it out my hand to take one himself.

"Haha, no tail for you." He mocked me. He was usually vocalized, and the alcohol didn't help. I shoved him with my paw.

"Shut up, you don't have any."

"Ye - hic - y - yeah, I don't," he sounded solemn, "But I'm lonely with you," and smiled.

Sip after sip we finished the bottle, and our cheeks flushed and tongues slightly slurred.

"So, your first su - C?"

"Yeah, never done before. Alway'z the Alpha Honor roll. No TV if i'z Beta."

"You're seewy - serious?"

I stopped, and in my haze realized that I was. For the past seven years, that rule had been enforced upon me, for the soul purpose of ensuring that I'd follow their little rules. Being a perfect little circle. Always good grades or no privileges. I grabbed the empty bottle by the neck.

"Yes I'm fuckin' z'erious, n'cause my parents are fuckin' ASSHOLES!" I threw the bottle out lobbing into the sea with verbal emphasis, and lost my balance forward and fell on my paws. "Shit."

"Chill man, chill." Don looked around the shore and levee, and relaxed when he found no other fur within earshot of my howl.

"I don't wann'a," sounding incredibly childish, with a raspy bark and tears swelling, and then subsiding, in my eyes. I defaulted to my back and stared up at the stars behind the dancing Oak leaves. "I hate Myre, I hate my parents, I hate John, Kim too," I moaned exasperatedly.

"'course you do." Don laid down next to me. "I don't think you handle alcohol well."

"I do what I want."

"Really now?"

"I would do what I want," I ceded, "but I can't. You could. You get to do anything."

"Not true." He sounded offended.

"You bought whiz'key." I laughed.

"Still don't get to do any'ting I want. Don't get to go into g ... girls pants." We both laughed.

"I've never z'een you try."

"'course you haven't." He sounded solemn again.

He nudged me shoulder, and almost seemed like he was going to move towards me, but just gave me a tentative glance.

"What?"

"I - nothin.'"

"Wh - what is it?"

"It's alright, you know, everything." His paw rested on my shoulder.

"No, it's not." I turned away and looked back up, hoping no spiny caterpillars would end my day right by falling on me.

Don dropped his paw, and turned too, looking like he almost felt as upset as I did.

We didn't talk for a few minutes, and mosquitoes were starting to buzz. When I looked at Don, hoping to loosen the silence, I saw his fuzzy eyes closed.

"Shit, don't fall asleep here."

"I'ya - I'um up."

"Come on."

I lifted him up, and dragged him a few feet before his paws started moving too, his tail waving limply. We both stumbled over the levee and, because he was stumbling the worst, our first destination was his house.

"Just wann'a go home and sleep." He mumbled.

"Then walk n' we'll get there faster."

We stumbled to his house, some of the lights still on inside, like the furs within were still active at this hour.

"They don't even mind you being out, do they?"

"Nope," he cackled.

I propped him up to the door, and he turned back at me.

"Thanks for the ride," he joked.

"You're hysterical," I sighed, "you should drink more often."

"I plan on it, with you, Mr. 'Do-What-I-Want'."

"Shut up," I shoved him teasingly. "I gott'a get back."

"Wait." He stopped me.

"What?"

He stared at me for a moment, then jumped into a hug.

"Haha, what the hell?" I tried to pry him off, but couldn't.

He backed away, and gave me an awkward stare, only to press his muzzle against mine, locking his lips around my snout.

"M-w - wait," when I made space for myself he just grabbed it back, filling the space within my maw with his. He gripped around my waist tightly with his paws. His tongue was moving liberally, and tasted bitter.

"'n-s - STOP." I was finally able to break free. He looked into my eyes, scared, before I started giggling. "Jesus, you're fucking drunk as hell."

"Yeah," his expression changing to laughter. "Yeah, I'll sleep it off."

"Please do."

He was about to dash back into his house, but turned around, "Goodnight, Cadet."

"G'night Captain."

I sneaked back in through my window, giggling to myself. "That jackass."