Dean Forester

This was one of the few afternoons where Dean had time. No work, no homework, just time. He cherished these afternoons, as they were few and far-between. He considered himself quite a busy person, so when he wasn’t free, he would typically be reading, listening to cassettes, or using the family computer. Today, he’d chosen cassettes— The Killers. They were a good band, admittedly, though he would never admit how he’d started listening to their music. (It was Jess’ fault— they were his favorite band, and Dean overheard him playing one of their albums in Rory’s car once. He’d been hooked ever since.) Just as he begun to immerse himself in the music, there came a knock at his door. Really? Now? He decided not to answer it. He didn’t care who it was— maybe they’d go away and let him have his afternoon to himself.