Darrin '90

"She's a half hour late."

I shrugged my shoulders and looked sheepish. "Maybe she's tied up in traffic."

"It's nine at night. There's no fucking traffic."

He paced around his porch some more, smoking cigarettes one after another, flicking the butts into the street.

I jumped when he punched the wall of his house.

"Darrin, man, calm down. She'll get here."

He pushed past me and went upstairs. The sounds of some speed metal band vibrated the windows, and I sat to wait for his girlfriend.