“Are you sure? I‟m feeling a little scorned here.” “No, no, no scorn at all,” Chase assured her. “Good,” she said cheerfully. “We‟re here.” She jerked to a stop in front of a large, white house in the suburbs. “Get out. Have fun. I‟ll be back in a few hours. Probably.” He shot her a sullen look as he got out. “Scorn,” she warned. He rolled his eyes and left, not looking back as she peeled away. He made his way to the backyard without going through the house. He could hear splashing and the chatter of dozens of people. He could smell the chlorinated water and roasting hotdogs. When he pushed open the splintered wooden gate, he saw the party in full swing. People clustered everywhere, swimming, talking, eating, beating the hell out of each other with those little flotation noodles. He twitched at the sheer number stuffed into that one backyard. After the first few minutes, it wasn‟t that bad. People mainly stuck to their individual social groups, not bothering him beyond a few perfunctory greetings, after which he was able to safely sink into the background. Then they started organizing games in the pool and he was stuck, forced to participate or be singled out. Category was not his idea of a fun pool game. However, he found himself lined up under the diving board with everybody else as someone called out types of candy. When the guy hit M&Ms, half the line surged forward. It hadn‟t been the candy Chase had been thinking of, but he figured it was close enough and surged forward a second later, hoping to lose himself in the crowd. The boy on the diving board jumped after them. Chase, due to his
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