someone’s house down the street, maybe Trigo Road or Del Playa, maybe outside San Nicolas Hall on campus.
         “Hey!” Jon’l called.
         “What’s going on,” Brad returned in a monotone.
         “Where’d you get that bike?”
         “Stole it,” he said nonchalantly. Jon’l knew Brad hadn’t stolen the bike. Had he done so, he would have been distracted and preoccupied, so convinced he would be jailed for this sin he would have become profoundly mute. Saying he had stolen it established beyond a doubt that he had not.
         Jon’l was envious of Brad. Brad was, after all, free as a bird, un-tethered by a girlfriend constantly nearby. So, in this uneasy state, he noticed at his foot a fish head lying inert, its dead eye gazing to the sky. This artifact was no doubt left by Max McInerney. He’d been fishing at Lake Cachuma the day before and brought home six or eight trout. Jon’l saw him cut them up and put them in the freezer.
         Reflexively, maybe to impress Ann, maybe in response to Brad looping around so carefree, Jon’l scooped up the stinky fish head and hurled it toward Brad. To his delight, his aim was true. The fish head soared in a majestic arc, then honed directly toward Brad and smacked heavily against his chest.
         Brad stopped in the middle of the street straddling the bike and assessed his stained shirt.
         “You asshole,” he said. “This is a brand new shirt.”
         Jon’l and Ann erupted into laughter but when Jon’l realized Brad’s shirt was not just clean, but a new one he’d never seen before, and that his shoes and pants were clean too like he was planning to go somewhere important, his mirth turned to guilt.
         “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t think I’d actually hit you.”
         Brad approached the building, threw the bike against some shrubs and scaled the stairs. Stepping past Ann and Jon’l, his face was solemn.
         “I’m really sorry, man,” Jon’l pleaded. “I didn’t know that was a new shirt.”
         Brad disappeared into the apartment. Jon’l and Ann exchanged smiles. “Man, I didn’t think I’d hit him in a million years. I can’t believe he was wearing a new shirt.”
         Just then Max’s pickup truck pulled up to the curb below and he climbed out carrying a bag of groceries. In a minute, he appeared at the top of the stairs, smiling the big cheerful smile that seduced all women in Isla Vista