We rarely get days like this, so when we do, the whole city spends it outside. The sun feels good on my skin and there’s a nice cool breeze to keep me from sweating as I pedal my bike uphill to my friend Jenn’s house. She lives two blocks away from me. My name is Zac and I can’t believe I’m almost a sophomore in high school. I live here in the southern part of Alaska with my grandpa. I’m about as ordinary as you could imagine, or at least I like to think of myself that way. I see a few people gathering their fishing poles, tackle boxes, coolers, and canoes, while others are watering plants in their yards, soaking in the heat from the sun. I’m glad that everyone’s enjoying the nice weather while it lasts. As I pull into Jenn’s driveway, I park my bike next to their lamp post. Her three-story house is always very regal looking compared to the houses surrounding hers. I climb a pair of wooden stairs to get to her front door.
