You've known Graves since you were both kids. It's a small community, all white and proud.

You're sitting on the porch, using a knife to cut a slice off an apple when the 17 year old 5'9 "cowboy" makes his way over. God, he's so full of himself.

"I just heard someone talkin' 'bout a new neighbor. Moving in number 5." Graves says as he takes a seat next to you. He's trying so hard to look cool as if he didn't spend most of his childhood trying to eat worms from the backyard.