Two hours later, Dana left the last of his classes. Taking out his phone, he dialed his father’s cell and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello?” Came his father’s voice from the other side of the line.

“Hey, Dad.” He replied.

“Dana? You out of classes?” He could hear the rustle of papers and knew his father was probably unpacking boxes. Today would be the last day off for his father, as he started work at the police station tomorrow morning.

“Yeah,” he said. “But could you not come pick me up? I was kinda invited to go get something to eat by some classmates.”

Dana paused for a brief moment, then before his dad could say anything, he added. “If that’s okay? I have birthday money with me and I’ll unpack when I get home. Oh, and one of the guys is the Sheriff’s son, so-“

“Dana.” Came his father’s amused voice. “It’s alright. Go have fun.”

“Yeah?” Dana said. He could tell by the tone of his voice that his Dad seemed somewhat relieved, happy even. He was probably glad that Dana seemed to be making new friends. Dana chalked it up to the fact he’d been very unhappy about the move, not to mention that he’d never been particularly sociable to begin with.

“You sure you won’t need a ride home, though? I can come pick you up?”

“Naw, they’ll drop me off.” Dana assured. “If I need you, I got you on speed-dial.”

His dad chuckled. “Don’t want your new friends to see you catching a ride with your old man, then?”

“It ain’t that, Dad.”

“I know.” His dad’s voice held a hint of mirth. It felt good to hear him laughing again. “Have a good time, son.”

“Will do, old man.” Dana pressed the “Call End” button and looked about the emptying hallway.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. It was twenty minutes after the end of the last session of classes for the day and his “new friends” were still a no-show. Had they been leading him on? Maybe this was some sort of hazing they did to all the new kids? He didn’t look forward to walking home in the snow.

Just as he was rethinking his phone call to his father, someone suddenly clapped a hand onto his shoulder. Dana flinched and cried out. It was instinctual. He wasn’t expecting to be ambushed from behind like that. He cringed when he heard raucous laughter at his expense. He turned around and found himself staring into a pair of lovely hazel eyes.

“You ready to go?” Hazel Eyes asked and Dana nodded in response as the other boys led the way out the door.

“Ah…” Dana suddenly stopped.

Hazel Eyes apparently caught the movement because he paused as well. Searching Dana’s face, the larger male raised a questioning eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“W-well…” Dana rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, though he didn’t know the exact reason why. What he was about to ask was perfectly in the realm of the normal. “I just realized I didn’t ask you your name.”

Hazel Eyes laughed, a lovely sound to Dana’s ears. “You don’t fraternize with strangers, eh?”

Dana blushed. He knew he was blushing. He was probably scarlet up to his ears!

“The name’s Greg. Greg Bronson.” The other young man opened the door and Dana was met with the frigid outside air. Snow flurries burst through the open doorway in a whirlwind of cold that instantly strung at any part of his skin left bare to its assault. It was a welcome discomfort that cooled his heated face.

                                                          * * * *

Dana found out their destination was the local hangout spot, a diner that served free refills on drinks. The guys slid into their usual booth and proceeded to order several large servings of French fries and five servings of chicken strips. They also ordered two cokes and an orange soda. Greg turned to Dana with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, coke for me.” Dana said when he realized Greg wanted to know what he’d like to drink.

The guys made small talk while waiting for the food to arrive. Greg was seated beside Dana in the booth and Dana blushed when the young man wrapped an arm about his shoulders and laughed heartily at something one of his friends said. Dana was sure he did it without thinking. Either that, or Greg was just the sort to be friendly with those he was comfortable around. Maybe he was just a touchy-feely sort of guy?

Dana didn’t catch most of what was being discussed as he found himself too embarrassed to keep his attention on most of the conversation. He knew his cheeks were flushed and he only hoped he could blame it on the harsh, cold winds that had nipped at his sensitive skin if someone were to ask him about it.

Fortunately for him, the guys’ attention was elsewhere. They talked about girls – or the unfortunate lack thereof – and a few Métis classmates they didn’t particularly like or get along with.

It wasn’t long before the conversation turned to what each of their fathers did for a living. It seemed the group was mostly made up of the sons of the town’s local big shots. Dana had already figured out that the dark-haired Ricky was the son of the town Sheriff.

“Shane’s Dad runs the local lumber mill,” Greg explained as he popped a French fry in his mouth. He picked up another fry and pointed the end of it at the guy with the light brown hair seated beside the blond Shane. “Ian’s Dad runs the mercantile.”

“And your dad?” Dana asked.

Greg smiled. “My old man heads Bronson’s Drilling, Co.”

“And Bronson’s recently teamed up with Bentley Oil and Gas Corporation. That’s why those Métis guys don’t like none of us.” Ian said. His voice turned mocking. “Cause they think Greg’s daddy is trying to drill on their sacred lands.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t own those lands.” Ricky spoke up. “They need to keep to their own business. That chief of theirs doesn’t exactly keep his people in line. They should stay where they belong.”

Shane released a bark of laughter. “Belong? They ain’t even a real tribe. Just a bunch of mixed bloods playing at being Indian. And that so-called chief is the worst of them.”