Megan approaches the porch

Megan Feeley didn't really think about when she approached the house. She wanted to know what had happened to her car, and those men obviously had the information she wanted. Besides, they wanted to speak to her, called over to her, and it would have been rude to have refused or ignored them. Maybe she just didn't know there were some requests you don't go along with.

The young redhead hurried up to see them, dressed in a thin sleeveless top and jean shorts. Even as she walked up the stairs of the front porch, she couldn't quite make out how many black men in dark clothing were lounging around in the shadows. The men she could see were drinking malt liquor and passing around some sort of cigarette. "Um, hi," she offered nervously.

The men didn't immediately greet her, but looked her up and down and seemed to exchange glances. Her blue eyes passed over the scene, trying to figure out what she should do. "My name is Megan Feeley," she decided to introduce herself, hands fidgeting. "I'm new to town, I'm going to teach at Blackmount. Did you mention you saw what happened to my car?"

"I'm Deuce," one of the black men responded from beneath his hoodie, then patted his knee. "Come here, have a seat, maybe a drink and a puff, huh?" There was a murmer of agreement as they awaited her answer. Megan looked at the blazing item he held, about the size of her thumb, and worried that it was ****. She was a good girl, she didn't drink or do ****, but she was afraid to offend her new neighbors.