The Redemptive Choices of Jeremy Nash, Part 1

A few months ago I posted a flash fiction on this little blog of mine, and I got some pretty positive feedback. (Mostly from my parents, but that is entirely besides the point.) SOOO, I thought I would give you a taste of something I'm legitimately working on. It's just the beginnings of a longer story, so don't get too excited. We'll see where it goes.

The Redemptive Choices of Jeremy Nash, Part One

  Jeremy knew he should have put the key somewhere he would remember. But, wanting it to be a good hiding spot that no hypothetical intruder would find, he forgot. Now here he was, standing outside in the freezing rain, waiting for his sister to return home. If he had remembered where he hid the key, he would have been inside to answer the phone when the basketball coach, Mister Snyder, called to tell him two of the starters had been suspended for cheating on a test, and to get his butt back to the school immediately and suit up for tonight's game. He would have filled in as starting point guard, and scored thirty points,winning the game and the admiration of his teammates. But Jeremy did not hear the phone ring. He did not return to the school. He did not play in a basketball games as the coach's last resort. Instead, Jeremy sat in his front porch, pitying himself and his horrible memory, when the rain stopped and a rainbow broke through the clouds.
  He couldn't have told you why–– maybe it was his childhood obsession with Lucky Charms or a misplaced urge for adventure–– but Jeremy set off toward the rainbow in search if its end. Rounding the corner of his street he saw Mister Andrews, the neighborhood's very well-known crotchety old man, leaning on his cane while his dog relieved itself on someone else's flowerbed. Spotting Jeremy, he immediately summoned an aura of annoyance.
  "You're wet, young man," he said with disgust. "Positively drenched."
  "Yes," replied Jeremy.
  "Don't yes me," Mister Andrews retorted.
  "Yes... sir?" Jeremy attempted.
  "When I was your age we didn't go around in wet clothing. We made an effort to present ourselves. Where do you think you're going, looking like a drowned sheep?"
  Jeremy shrugged. His eyes had wandered to Mister Andrew's dog, a Boston Terrier named Felix. Felix having finished his business, had begun feasting on the stem of a fallen tulip.
  "Well, boy?" Mister Andrews insisted.
  "I don't know," Jeremy answered. "Just around."
  "Around, hmmph. Only hoodlums and floozies wander around. I should call your mother. Oh, don't think I don't know who you are, Mister Nash," he added at the look on Jeremy's face. "I know exactly who you are. I've seen you running amuck since you were knee-high to a grasshopper."
  Jeremy shook his head in amazement and flipped the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he set off down the street. As he passed the old man, he felt a hard whack on the back of his legs.
  "OUCH!" he yelled. He turned to see Mister Andrews pointing his cane at him like a sword.
  "I'm watching you, boy," he said threateningly.
  Jeremy set off at a faster pace, putting as much distance as he could between himself and Mister Andrews. As he crossed the street he distinctly heard the old man shout "hooligan!" in his direction.