![]() ![]() “It isn’t like you have anyplace better to be.” Saying no to Rich Bitch Hill parties was as automatic to me as saying yes had become to Daniel. Which is exactly why you and me are going to stick around.” “And these people of mine predicted that beer will be served in huge quantities right here tonight. “Hell yeah, I do,” Daniel said, grinning. When they were gone, I couldn’t help laughing. “Go for it.” Then he headed back to his mansion with his friends trailing behind. “Dick and I will haul everything in for you, no extra charge. Pete looked like he wanted to ask more questions or possibly kick Daniel’s ass, but Sexy-Never-Left Garrison cut in. “I have people everywhere,” Daniel said, waving toward the Valley. I’d-Do-Me Eric raised his eyebrows and looked down the street like he expected to spot police cars staking out the place. You’ll be screwed, I’ll be screwed, we’ll all be screwed. If you have a keg, there’ll be no way to hide it. I have it on good authority that the police are looking for some underage parties in your neighborhood to raid this weekend. He clamped his hand on Pete’s shoulder and hunched down so they were at eye level. If I hadn’t known better, the expression on Daniel’s face would have made me believe he was actually sorry. You and your pals can stay sloppy drunk all night with this.” “But I got you a good price and threw in a bunch of hard stuff, too. “That didn’t work out,” Daniel said, playing it cool. “What’s all this single-serving shit? I ordered a keg.” Pete stood at the back of the car, staring down. Then I went around, leaned into the car, and pulled out the blankets from the backseat that had been covering up more stacks of the same. I popped the trunk, which was packed tight with cases of beer and a whole mess of Jack Daniel’s and vodka. Everyone got a nickname from Daniel-he’d been calling me Dick instead of Seth for years-but he usually didn’t let people get away with calling him anything but Daniel. The fact that he didn’t correct Pete over the Danny thing bugged me too. “Hey, these things take time,” Daniel said. Last big party of the summer and you’re late with the beer. “Danny, I have all these people showing up. “Hey, Seth.” Then he got down to business. This crap had been going on for over a year, so I should have been used to it, but Daniel acting buddy-buddy with guys we’d always hated still weirded me out. I fidgeted with Isaac’s miniature Magic 8 Ball while Daniel clasped I-Am-College Pete’s hand all secret-handshake-style. “Just let me handle this,” Daniel said to me. They all looked alike with their buzz-cut hair and T-shirts that said, I AM COLLEGE, I’D DO ME, and SEXY NEVER LEFT. Most of the cars alone were worth three, maybe even four, times as much as the single-wide mobile homes Daniel and I called home.ĭaniel directed me to the place, and as I backed into the driveway, Pete Zimmer, the Kenburn High football god himself, was waiting on the sidewalk with two other jocks. Amazing, really, the ritziness of this part of town. ![]() We were in the clear for now.Ī minute later we hit the crest of Ray Fitch Hill-“Rich Bitch Hill” to those of us unlucky enough to live by the river-where huge houses sat on square, perfect lawns with clipped hedges and lit-up flower beds. To my relief the cruiser hadn’t followed. I peeked in the rearview again, trying to be casual about it. I flipped on my blinker, and then eased into a pretty smooth turn, even with all the weight Daniel had piled in the back. The street you want is coming up next left.” “And take some deep breaths or something. “You’ve got to quit looking at him,” Daniel said between swigs of his Jack and Coke. The experience was not doing wonders for my hangover headache or crazy-nervous heartbeat. From what I could tell, the cop had no plans to stop tailgating me anytime soon. What I didn’t know was why Daniel thought he was some kind of speed-estimating expert the Mustang’s speedometer was always stuck at zero whether I was at a dead stop or cruising the highway. You might not realize this, but cops pay close attention when people are under the speed limit too.” You’ve got to blend in better on the road. “How do I bring it on myself? By hauling you around everywhere in my brother’s unlucky car?” All I could make out in the dusky darkness were bright headlights and the outline of the light bar on the cruiser’s roof, which-so far-wasn’t flashing. “Oh yeah?” I kept the steering wheel as steady as I could and stole another glance in the rearview. “You know, Dick,” Daniel said, “I’m pretty sure you bring this cop bullshit on yourself.” Which meant, technically, I was also the guy who had the police cruiser riding his ass through town. ![]() ![]() I was just the sucker he’d roped into driving him for the actual delivery. He’d taken the order, contacted a supplier, and set it all up. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |