The Summer nights were black and windy. The air was so hot and full of sweat that even as the breeze tried to cool your face, your hair clung closely to each droplet of moisture. So many of those nights I snuck out of my house, often stealing my sister's car. I'd drive across town to friends' houses, turning off the lights a block away and killing the engine, coasting in neutral. Shadows from street lamps followed my body along the peeling paint and high weeds of house sides. Windows opened and welcoming figures in the true dark interior would be momentarily lit by the sharp moonlight. Once inside, there were never questions of being caught or falling asleep before the hazy dawn.