“Hey, Lance, you coming outside?” Bobby called from the front porch, tossing a baseball in the air.
Lance looked up from his notebook, where he’d been sketching strange shapes and symbols. The warm summer air drifted in through the cracked window, carrying the smell of fresh-cut grass and faint exhaust from the highway.
“Not now,” Lance muttered, adjusting his glasses.
“Come on! David’s waiting.” Bobby was older by a year and more confident — he had the easy smile and the strong hands that made him a natural leader.
David appeared behind Bobby, grinning wide. “We need you, man. You’re our secret weapon.”
Lance sighed but stood, slipping his white Alupent inhaler into his pocket before following them out. The warm air made his chest tighten, but he didn’t say anything.
Outside, the sun warmed the cracked driveway. Bobby tossed the ball to David, who caught it easily. Lance felt the inhaler press against his leg — it made him feel safer, like a tiny shield no one could see.
“So, you believe in that radio stuff?” David teased, nudging Lance’s shoulder.
“I do,” Lance said, eyes serious. “I think there’s something out there listening. I just have to figure out how to talk to it right.”
“Sounds crazy,” David laughed, but there was no real mockery in his voice.
Bobby threw the ball to Lance. “Crazy or not, you’ve got heart. Let’s see what you can do.”
Lance caught the ball clumsily but smiled. For a moment, he forgot about the chip behind his ear, the whispers at night, and the dreams he couldn’t quite explain.
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