Shout-outs:

Itsallrelative: Thank you for the excellent review. I do try to put a lot of my own views in my stories because it makes things sound less forced. Letter to the Syllable

A fish called Sid: Thanks for being the first (and only) person I don't know to review my story. I'm glad you like it. And yes, Green Day is all that and a side of fries.

Not Right

The next few months passed rather slowly and uneventfully. My mom gladly welcomed Sam into our house. She's just glad to have some extra help around the house. Sam and I hadn't told anybody about his dad, and to our surprise, Sam's dad never came looking for him. I'm sure he's probably just ashamed of what he's done, in denial.

Neither Sam nor I had found girlfriends yet. Frankly, we both found it really hard to trust other people. We did, however, trust Mike and Dave. They always made us laugh, which was something that Sam and I were desperately in need of.

We were all standing outside school on a gorgeous spring afternoon, smoking cigarettes and laughing.

"So the fucker falls of the boat as he's turning, and it crashes right into the rocks!" Dave finishes his story as the rest of us howl with laughter.

"Are you guys gonna come see me and Dave play our gig this Friday?" Asks Mike, changing the conversation to his band.

Mike was really into music, and was a terrific bass player. He was the only serious musician among Dave and Chris, and the only one with real talent. Most of their songs consisted of wonderful, but long, bass solos. Dave was a horrible guitarist and singer, and Chris couldn't play the drums worth shit.

But it was worth going just to see Mike's awesome bass skills.

"I'm in!" I said excitedly, and Mike's face lights up with happiness.

"Me too" Sam exclaimed.

"Allright then, we gotta practice. See you Adam, Sam. Come on Dave."

Sam laughed at Mike's enthusiasm as he dragged Dave away.

"Oh shit." I said, looking at my watch. "We're late for work."

We ran the two blocks to Kinko's, arriving ten minutes late. We'd lucked out and managed to get a job for both of us at the same place and time. Probably because our boss was a big fan of Good Riddance, and Sam had worn their shirt when we applied.

"We're sorry Mr. Jakobson. We lost track of time." Sam said sweetly.

"It's allright, Sam." He assured us, smiling. He really did like Sam a hell of a lot.

That's pretty much how the rest of the week went. Dave and Mike would go practice for their fist show at Gilman, and Sam and I would show up late for our shift, and work three hours. But it was Friday and we'd survived a day of school and afternoon of work, and were ready to see Mike and Dave's band, 'Filthy Stinking Rich.'

I showed up at seven o'clock, after changing into a clean Ramones shirt. There were four bands playing that night, and Filthy Stinking Rich were up third.

Sam and I walked through the doors into the familiar Gilman street warehouse. Mike and Dave eagerly greeted us. Mike was excited about playing, and looked ecstatic. Dave looked stoned. But then again, he probably was.

Pretty soon, the first band began playing. They were pretty good, and the four of us waltzed into the pit. Jumping up and running around insanely, I began to get tired.

Halfway through the set, I left the pit and took the only empty seat next to a girl about my age that I'd never seen around before.

"This your first show at Gilman?" I asked, feeling the urge to get to know her.

"Yeah actually, I just moved here, and I'm trying to get a feel for how things work up here in Berkeley." She told me, looking glad she had someone to talk to.

"Well, Berkeley is an awesome city, you'll like it here." I replied. "I'm Adam, by the way."

"I'm Alison." She said, smiling. "It's good to meet you, I haven't really talked to anyone since I got here."

"Well, if you want, my friends and I could show you around Berkeley tomorrow." I offered, mentally crossing my fingers.

"Wow, that would be awesome!" She exclaimed.

After that, we talked about all sorts of things. Music, philosophy, politics. She was very intelligent, and that made the conversation so much better than most conversations I held on a daily basis with Mike and Dave.

Before we knew it, the second band's set was done, and Filthy Stinking Rich was setting up.

"This is the band my friends are in." I said, pointing to the stage. "That's Mike and Dave. Oh, and that's Chris. I would try to avoid him, he's not the best person to get mixed up with." I warned her.

She nodded as Dave picked up the microphone and introduced the band before launching into the first song.

It took about ten minutes for the crowd to get tired of bass solo after bass solo, and they started to 'boo.' As Dave reached the end of the song, he punched some guy in the crowd who had been booing.

After that, it was every man for himself as chaos broke loose in the supposedly anti-violence club.

I grabbed Alison's hand and led her away from the chaos and out the door as I had seen Sam do countless times before. I felt bad for ditching Sam at the club; but then again, he had done it to me many many times.

"You want a cup of coffee?" I asked her after we were safely outside and I had released her hand.

"How could I turn coffee down?" she asked, jokingly.

You could never go wrong asking a punk rock girl to coffee, they can't refuse it. It's like their weak spot.

I showed her the way to Peet's, and we continued having excellent conversation over extra strong black coffee. When our mugs were finally emptied, we got up.

"That was a lot of fun, Adam." She said. "Still up for showing me around tomorrow?"

"Of course." I assured her, already looking forward to it.

"Great!" She said, grabbing a napkin and scribbling her phone number. "Call me."

"Will do." I said, a little too quickly. She raised her eyebrows "Want me to walk you home?" I asked

"That would help. New places can be scary in the dark." She said.

So I walked with her, our conversation slowing down as we reached her house.

"See you tomorrow, Adam." She smiled, walking in the front door.

I walked home thinking about how great she was to talk to, so funny and intelligent. I really liked her a lot, and was looking forward to getting to know her better tomorrow. My thoughts were entirely of her as I walked the three-quarters of a mile between our houses. 'Wow, she lives close, too.' I thought as I climbed through the window where the lights were still on, and Sam was still up.

I know he wasn't mad because he was smiling, almost mischievously.

"Did Adam find a girl?" He teased, punching me in the shoulder.

"Maybe…" I say, raising my eyebrows. "Is it OK if she hangs out with us tomorrow?"

"Only if you tell me what happened after you left tonight."

"Nothing, we just got coffee." I answered.

"Dude, that's so boring! Please tell me you at least kissed her…"

"No." I said quietly

"That's lame, man." he said. "Well, I'll help you out tomorrow. Even if I have to MAKE you."

I couldn't help but laugh. He was definitely the scrawniest of us all. He couldn't make me do anything.

"What are you laughing at?" I asked, frowning.

"Nothing, man"

"That's what I thought." He said, trying to sound tough again.

This time I was in hysterics. I mean, I was rolling on the floor with laughter.

"HEY!" Sam exclaimed, tackling me. He wasn't strong enough though. I quickly pinned him.

"Nice try, squirt."

"Ow, shit, my ribs." Sam cried in distress.

I quickly got off him, remembering his dad had cracked a couple of his ribs.

"That bastard…" I growled.

"It doesn't matter Adam, he's gone." Said replied, but I could see a look of hurt in his eyes. I fucking hated that man for screwing up Sam. Not just the physical beating, but the emotional turmoil it caused for him.

"Well, I was tired anyway, I'm going to bed." He added after a long awkward silence.

I knew he wasn't tired, and I wasn't either, but I told him I was too, and he took his place on the couch while I took mine on the bed. Not another word was spoken, but we didn't go to sleep for another two hours. I could hear him tossing on the uncomfortable couch, and wondered if it was the couch keeping him up, or the pain in his ribs. I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about what I'd do if I ever saw Sam's dad again.

I awoke to the smell of coffee, and something cold pressing into my shoulder. Slowly, I let my eyes open and adjust to the large amount of sunlight now streaming into the room from the uncovered windows.

I rolled over in bed to see a smirking Sam, poking me in the shoulder with a cold, coffee-covered spoon.

"Fuck off." I said, wiping coffee off my shoulder and rolling back over in a feeble attempt to go back to sleep.

As a shut my eyes, I envisioned a girl of about average height with long brown hair, wearing an 'Ann Beretta' T-shirt. She's laughing, and her brilliant blue eyes are shining.

My eyes snap open for the second time that morning, and I jolted upright on the bed.

"Alison!" I exclaim, causing Sam to chuckle.

"Need the phone." He asked, smiling even wider.

"Sam! Give me the phone right now!" I said, very seriously, which just caused him to start cracking up, and run out of the room, WITH the phone.

I leapt out of bed and chased him down. After a short struggle, I claimed victory, and the phone of course.

I quickly dialed the number that I had studied so hard last night in the moonlight, fingering the napkin she' given me in anticipation, memorizing the number.

"Hello" said a voice so full of energy that I knew it had to be Alison, but I decided to ask, just in case.

"Hi, is Alison home, please."

"This is she." Said the voice on the other end, seeming more energetic than a moment ago.

"Hey, Alison!" I said. "You ready to explore every square inch of the great city that is Berkeley?"

"Hell yes!" She laughed.

"Well then, I'll pick you up in a half-hour, then we can go get Mike and Dave.

"Allright, that sounds good." She said, and I could almost see her smiling.

"See you in a half-hour."

"Bye" I hung up.

"Well, I heard that the average male phone conversation was two minutes, but that wasn't even ONE minute." Said Sam, leaning against the fridge, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

"Better than you've been doing lately. I laugh, grabbing a cup of coffee, though I didn't really need it. I was already fully awake from my brief conversation with Alison.

After draining the cup and changing clothes, I dragged Sam out the door to where I remembered Alison's house to have been the night before. We arrived to find her already sitting out front waiting for us.

"Ah, my only friend in Berkeley" She said, coming up to meet us and throwing her arm around my shoulder. It was amazing how well we got along. I'd just met her last night, but it felt like I'd known her my whole life.

"Alison, this is Sam." I said, politely introducing them.

"Please, I hate my full name. It's Ali. Stop being so damn polite, Adam. Nice to meet you Sam." She said, curtseying. "Shall we go, gentlemen?"

By this point, Sam was cracking up, and I was bright red. But I merely flicked Sam's ear and grabbed Ali's hand, leading the way to Dave's.

I knocked on the door for a long time, and my knuckles were beginning to hurt when Dave finally answered the door. He had a few bruises on his face from the fight at Gilman, but he also looked very hungover.

"I can't hang out today, I feel like shit. Mike can't either, he's passed out on the kitchen floor." He grumbled.

"OK" I said, almost relieved it would just be Sam and Ali.

"Later, man." He slammed the door.

"Guess it's just us." I told Ali and Sam.

"What did you have planned for today, Adam." Asked Sam curiously.

"I don't know. We could ride BART around for a bit." I suggested.

You could always count on public transportation to provide interesting people watching and something to do always came up.

On this particular ride, however, nothing came up. But it didn't matter. We rode all over Berkeley and San Francisco, just talking.

"What do you think about September eleventh?" She asked us.

"I thought the attacks themselves were pretty scary, but our reaction to it was even worse. As a nation, that is." I answered.

"EXACTLY!" she said, getting excited now. "The media blew t way out of proportion. There's all this false patriotism now. All these people buying all this red white and blue merchandise. It's commercialism. People are actually profiting off of this disaster."

Sam looked like he was at a loss for words, and I was too. She had summed up the situation perfectly. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized this was often the case. Ali had an amazing ability to put into words exactly what she was feeling.

I knew that we'd be friends for any years already, she was so similar to me it was frightening. Sam and I wasted no time in inviting her to hang out with us the next day as well.

I never did kiss her that day. Half because I was shy, and half because I had no desire to. I didn't want her to stop talking. I couldn't get enough of her.

The next day, and then the next month passed much as that day. Sometimes with Mike and Dave and sometimes not. And sometimes it was just Ali and I. She'd become the fifth member of our unofficial group.

It had become a ritual of mine and Ali's to go to Peet's for coffee after every Gilman show. The summer was getting nearer, and the weather warmer.

Ali and I sat outside Peet's doing what we always did: talking. Over the last month with Ali, I had become a better conversationalist myself, able to form my opinions into words. She was like my teacher, and I always felt smart around her.

On this occasion, however, we were both unusually quiet. Tension had been building the last few weeks as I waited for the right moment to kiss her.

We walked silently form Peet's to her house, the street casting shadows of the trees on the sidewalk. It was a horrible silence the whole way home, and I missed the conversation. As we approached her house, I grew more and more nervous.

It's not that I'm an inexperienced kisser. In fact, I'd kissed a lot of girls. But I never really liked any of them They were meaningless. I'd make out with a random girl at a show, or I'd kiss those poseurs who used to ask me out, but that was just for fun. Something to do if I got bored. This was different, I'd grown close to Ali, and she was my friend. I cared about her, I liked her.

"Adam?" I heard her say, and looked around. We were in front of her house. I had spaced out again. "Are you allright?" She asked.

"Yeah…I'm…" I couldn't finish my sentence. No words could answer her question. 'It's now or never.' I thought, slowly leaning down a bit. Watching her eyes the whole way, a silent exchange through our eyes. I closed them when I thought our exchange was over, and felt my lips meet hers.

Her lips were soft, and she was a great kisser, there was no doubt about that. But something was wrong. It didn't feel right. Wasn't I supposed to feel lighter than air? Wasn't there supposed to be a shivering up my spine? 'Maybe not…I guess' I thought, pulling back. My pair of confused eyes met hers, which bore a similar look.

" That was…wrong…" she said slowly.

Though I was sad it wasn't what I thought it should have been, I was glad I wasn't the only one that felt it.

"I know, I'm sorry." I apologized, lacking the words once again that would describe what I felt…which was just emptiness.

"No, Adam. It's not your fault. It just didn't feel right, it's not meant to be." I saw her ayes sparkle with all her wisdom.

"This doesn't change anything, does it?" I asked worriedly.

"Of course not!" she said with a reassuring smile. "Adam, you and Sam have been great friends to me as I've adjusted to the move, and have made things so much easier for me. I wouldn't just forget about all that just because of a stupid kiss. If anything, it only makes our friendship stronger. It was a test of our boundaries, and now we know we won't go that far again." She explained.

"I guess that makes sense. Thanks Ali." I said, hugging her. And I meant it. As always, she'd managed to calm me down, rationalize my feelings.

"I should go inside now, though. Bye Adam."

"Bye Al" I said quietly as she walked into her house, leaving me alone and confused.

I had really liked her. Loved every moment I spent with her, hanging off her every word. Yet she was right, it was wrong. As meaningless as all my other kisses before it. I walked home and found that Sam was asleep. After I had stripped myself of all my clothes but my boxers, I lay down in bed. I played the events of the day over and over in my head. Then I reflected on the whole month, still failing to come up with the problem.

I was attracted to her, or at least I thought I was. Then again, what was attraction? I guess she was pretty, but that's not what I liked about her. I liked talking to her, but how was that any different than my relationship with Sam? Or Mike? Or Dave? Finally I drifted off to sleep, more confused and frustrated than I'd been in a long time.

Author's note: Sorry about the whole kissing scene, I'm aware of the lack of good writing in those few paragraphs