The First Time

Paul had been really patient about teaching Clay how to play the guitar, and they were celebrating Clay’s mastery of the chord hammer by getting drunk next to a bonfire on the beach.

“So.” Paul gesticulated wildly with his half-empty bottle of rum. “Tell me, Clay Timothy Summers, what is the worst thing you’ve ever seen? I mean, you’ve been a rock star since you were, like, born. So really, what’s the worst you’ve seen?”

Clay swiped the bottle from Paul, sipped thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Paul smirked. “Try me.”

“So, Bobby and I were in love with the same girl one time.” Clay stared into the flames. The ones on the edge, the darker ones tinged with shadow, were almost the same shade as Carolyn’s eyes.

“Lemme guess - you caught Bobby and her doin’ it up against the wall after a concert!” Paul’s grin was wicked.

Clay shook his head. “No, jerk. I’m being serious here.”

“What happened, then?”

“I fell out of love with her the first time I saw her kill a man.”

Paul choked on his rum. “The first time?”

(189 words)