Molly, Part 1: It was coming on evening. Molly, put on her sweater. Where she and her friend, Val, were sitting, faced north.

The two teens, were waiting for the fireworks to start, and would soon find a better place to watch them.  Molly pulled out her phone to text another girl.  A moment later, came the bing.  It read, "across from the bake stand hurry up, before the seats get filled.  The two girls lit from the grass and headed over.  Molly's eye caught some interesting looking pastries.  Her friend made some snarkeyremarks, but it was all in good fun.  Val knew Moll had eyes for Nick the baker's son.  Though the young man was nowhere in sight, the pastries were.  While Val went over go join their other friend, and claim a third seat, Molly bought a few pastries.  

The girls, each holding a delight, admired them in between taking bites.

"Hey Moll," the kid whose soda had permanently added the orange hue down the front side of Molly's sweater, called from across the street, "yer gonna get fat, eatin' that."  He then guffled at his rhyme.  His buddy, the other kid, who had been a partner of the ruination of the sweater, made some remark, concerning Molly five years from now, having a brood, and being fat with another.

Molly didn't hear it all, but heard enough - including a slur, which she did not appreciate.   "Shut Up, you're such a jerk!"  She yelled back.

The young men continued their way.  As with others in the gathering crowd, also looking for seats, certain current events,  predictably - especially, on this day - were being discussed and, here and there, points disagreed upon.  Molly paid little attention to the newscasts.  What she couldn't understand was, how adults would let themselves be played, and then turn right around and lecture teens for giving into peer-pressure.

Meanwhile, the two young men, after high-fiving each other moved on, to a different topic.  One of great importance.  

"He's not driving"

"WHAT!"

"...they said sponsors pulled out."

"...but all's he said was gas is too high...had nothing to do with..."

"Doesn't matter, and labor day doesn't look too promising, either."

"But he didn't say anything wrong!"

"Doesn't matter."

"Aw maann, that just ..."