Dean Drabble
Puberty caught Dean the summer after his fourteenth birthday. Bivouaced at a seaside resort, John reconned for ghosts; his boys patrolled the sand. Sunny days tickled gold highlights in Dean’s hair, painted freckles across his nose, and bronzed his cheekbones. A growth spurt stretched his sinews and lingering baby fat was re-proportioned as muscle. Oblivious to the transformation, and the lustful glances of teenaged girls, Dean ranged the beach wearing the grin of unburdened youth and cut-off jeans which skimmed his hips.
“Those girls think you’re hot!” Sam shoved a perfumed note towards Dean.
A legend was born.