In high school, I was a bad kid. I didn't do drugs or drink beer, but I was bad. School wasn't a priority of mine during my junior year, and I failed all of my classes except weight training, ceramics, and jewelry. I lived for the bell at the end of the day. This was the first year that I drove, and I did it a lot. I had an old baby blue Chevrolet pickup that could fly like the wind. I met a lot of people, and gained some good friends.
             Towards the beginning of the year, I spent lots of my time with my friend Jim. He was into cars and he helped me a lot with my truck. We used to get to school early every day to get good parking. Sitting in his truck, we listened to music, talked about the most random things, and smoked cigarettes. We shared the same first class and were always late to it. We both failed it.
             Another cool friend that I had was Stacey. We had dated for a while back in the eighth grade, so I knew her pretty well. We both spent our free third period and our time after school together. Stacey's friend Scott was a senior whom I already knew because he was a friend of my older brother years earlier. Early in the school year, the three of us hung out on the weekends.
             Some time after Christmas, Scott and Stacey met Jim. We all seemed to get along well and had some good times together. We met Dan one day up at the smoking corner. Dan was a sophomore and also into trucks. John Basset, Jim's friend who lived in Issaquah, also had a big truck. I had previously met his girlfriend who went to our school. J.B.'s girlfriend, Vicki, was a bitch. Everyone knew it and they just dealt with it. The seven of us quickly became a close circle of friends. The whole gang, Jim, Vicki, J.B., Scott, Dan, Stacey and I, started hanging out a lot on the weekends. We used to go up to the mountains with all of our trucks and go 4-wheeling. We built huge bonfires and sat around them telling stories and sipping beer. Thi...