Micky went a week without hearing word from the man he knew as Mike. It was a Thursday and Peter approached him during their lunch period, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Hey man, you going to the party tomorrow?" Peter asked.

"What party?"

"Paul McCartney's throwing it. I hear it's supposed to be real wild. Everyone got high off their asses at the last party he threw."

"Oh. Um, no thanks." That was the main difference between Micky and Peter. Peter seemed like a good, quiet kid, but he had a real wild side. It was no secret that he's tried almost every drug in existence. Snort it, smoke it, it didn't matter, because Peter would still try it. Micky had never even touched a cigarette, let alone any other wild drug that may be present at Paul McCartney's party.

"You sure man?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Micky would just spend Friday night alone.

Again.