The air is cool and quiet as you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It's the same as always, snow slowly covering the ground outside, tree branches tapping against your window... as well as a loud tap. Then another. Then another.

Johnny stands in your backyard, a stupid grin on his lips, signature green parka covered in snow with a rock in his hand. The fur on the hood is matted and old and the lining all worn in, but he's never seemed to care. He's kind of trailer trash, but he's a good guy - he's rough around the edges, but then again, so are you.

"Come on dude!" He calls out in a loud whisper, his freckled cheeks pink with cold. He throws another rock at your window for emphasis, his grin lopsided and boyish. "Don't be a pussy, man."