Sex, Marry, Kill

by Travis, Todd

  “I said, bullshit. You know you’re hungry, we know you’re hungry. Don’t torture yourself by watching us eat,” Valerie said. “You’re hungry, so eat.”

  Faye stared down at her hands, embarrassed. No one spoke for a moment, just stared at Valerie in awe. Valerie cleared her throat.

  “I’m not saying that to be mean. I’m saying, you’re here. Eat something.”

  “Valerie’s right,” Shakes said, eager. “Come on, all of us are gonna eat, you should, too.”

  “Yeah,” Darin said. “Get something out of this bullshit trip, even if it’s only a crappy, overpriced meal.”

  Faye glanced involuntarily over at the table where Tracy Jones and her mean girlfriends chattered away, oblivious.

  “Who gives a shit what they think?” Valerie said. “They’re going to act like bitches whether you eat or not.”

  “Yeah, they’re bitches,” Shakes said. This was the most he’d heard Valerie speak at one time ever since junior high, and he was thrilled.

  “It’s not just that,” Faye said. “It’s more that … I just got this new blouse, and … it’s very expensive, too expensive, really. I should never have bought it. I’m going to return it, but if I get anything on it, I won’t be able⁠—”

  “So be careful and don’t spill,” Darin said.

  “It’s not that easy, and … well, it’s not that easy,” Valerie glanced down at the napkin in her hand. It was clearly not big enough to cover her bulk. “I try not to, but I can get messy.”

  “Here, take mine,” Darin handed her his napkin. “My shirt ain’t even worth two cents, doesn’t matter if I spill anything on it,” Darin flagged down a passing waiter and nodded to Faye. “We’re going to need another Cornish Hen, right here.”

  “English chicken!” Ed said.

  Faye took his napkin, tucked it in next to hers. “Thanks. I know I’m too big, I do. I just haven’t been able to do anything about it.”

  “And who says you have to?” Valerie said.

  “Well … kinda almost … everybody,” Faye said.

  “Not me,” Valerie said.

  “Me, neither,” Shakes added.

  “Me, three,” Ed said, happy.

  “Not any of us,” Darin said. “Do what you want.”

  “Do what you want and fuck anybody who doesn’t like it,” Valerie said. “Return the blouse, don’t return the blouse, it doesn’t matter in the end. We’re all gonna die someday soon anyway, so fuck it and fuck them. Fuck it all.”

  They stared at Valerie, open-mouthed in wonder and awe. Darin picked up a glass of water and held it out in an impromptu toast.

  “I’m totally down with that. To fuck it all,” he said.

  Shakes grabbed his glass and held it out. “Fuck it all.”

  Faye followed suit. “Fuck it all.”

  Ed picked up his glass, blushing and giggling. “Eff it all,” and kept on giggling. They all looked to Valerie.

  “Hey. You started this,” Darin said.

  Valerie picked her glass. They all clinked them together in a toast.

  “To fuck it all,” Valerie said.

  They drank their water together and smiled in solidarity.

  It was the first time, since he’d gotten to this school a year and a half ago, that Darin could recall feeling any sense of kinship with anyone. It was the first time at ANY school, actually. He’d known many a burnout who bought drugs from him, met many a wannabe criminal like himself, he’d rolled through seas of teenagers, the honor students, the jocks, the skaters and mean girls, the rich kid bullies and the weaklings they picked on, and never once felt connected to any of them on either side.

  At least not until that moment where, at a table with a fat chick, a semi-retard, an undersized geek and a hot suicidal psycho chick, they all laughed together and for some reason Darin just couldn’t stop smiling at all of them.

  It was around this time, Darin would later remember, that the man they’d come to know as Mr. Herman made his appearance at the restaurant. They didn’t know his name at the time, but they’d never forget the sight of him strolling into the steak house.

  Chapter Twelve

  Darin’s first thought was that this had to be a practical joke. It had to be, had to be one of those reality TV stunts with hidden cameras stashed everywhere, just to catch the reactions of the students of the man he’d later come to know as Mr. Herman. It was a ridiculous sight.

  It was ridiculous because of how he looked and dressed.

  He was at least forty-five or fifty and skinny as a scarecrow, he was all knees and elbows, a cartoon Ichabod Crane with a big hawkish nose and a prominent Adam’s apple that bounced around as if it had a mind of its own.

  If not for his outlandish outfit and makeup, he’d look like a typical office drone. But the man went goth, and went for it in a big way, a crushed black velvet topcoat over a black fishnet top, fingerless lace gloves and skin-tight leather pants and boots.

  He wore mascara, one eye more caked and empathized than the other, and he had a streak of red dye running through in his long dark hair. Black polish on his fingernails and he held a silver-tipped cane. Darin had the thought, at the time, that even Alice Cooper might look at this man and go, dude, take it down a notch.

  He stepped up to the bar and the bartender set a drink before him without being asked. The man picked it up, turned and surveyed the restaurant as he sipped it, taking special interest in the section filled with high school kids, who stared back at him, agog.

  The man also had two very beautiful women with him, one on each arm, a blonde and a brunette. They were striking beautiful women, wearing sheer dresses with plunging necklines, slit skirts and wearing very high stripper heels. Both women were smoking hot, porn star hot, with prominent breasts and full, red lips, the kind of women that would stop conversation just on their own anytime they entered a room, had they not been accompanied by a man with the physical attributes of a scarecrow dressed like a rock star.

  Both women nuzzled and rubbed up against him endlessly, as if in a state of constant arousal. They never seemed to stop writhing, in fact.

  “Whatever he’s paying you, ladies, it ain’t enough!” Goodwin shouted and his table broke into laughter.

  Mr. Herman glanced toward Goodwin and his goons, as if to say something, then his eyes came upon Darin’s table and he stopped himself. He smiled, leaned back against the bar and sipped from a highball, his beautiful companions attached to his side like hungry remoras. He was clearly showing them off for the kids.

  “One eight-hundred-hooker!” Roger said.

  “All right, you guys, knock it off,” Healy said. “You’re all adults, so act like it.”

  One of the man’s companions very clearly ran her hand up his thigh and over his crotch, lingering over it, before moving up his stomach. Both women turned into him, one on each side, and ground their hips against a skinny leg, riding it.

  “Oh my good Lord,” Linda Sue said.

  Ms. Arnett blushed and Healy flagged a waiter and whispered in his ear, clearly irritated by the display, and asked the waiter to do something about the freak. The waiter nodded at first, looked up and then shook his head. He kept on shaking his head as Healy got more and more heated. Finally the waiter just simply walked away, leaving Healy in mid-sentence.

  “Who is that?” Shakes whispered. “Maybe it’s Marilyn Manson, you think?”

  “Nah, it ain’t Marilyn Manson. I don’t know who it is. Maybe it’s some local rock star I’ve never heard of, but it ain’t Manson,” Darin said. “And Manson would never hang out in a place like this.”

  “He looks scary,” Ed said.

  “He’s just some old guy who likes to dress up,” Darin said. “Lots of old guys like that, in the big cities especially.”

  Goodwin and his buddies just shook their heads in disbelief and joked with each other about the wildly dressed man until the food came. The man turned away from them to chat with the bartender and the waiters,
presumably about Healy’s complaints, Darin thought, and everyone focused on their food.

  Goodwin noticed that Healy’s attention was drawn to Ms. Arnett as they discussed the shenanigans of the gothic stranger. Goodwin caught Darin’s eye. He jerked his chin toward the bathroom, got up and left.

  Darin sighed, pushed away from the table and followed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Darin found Goodwin waiting for him in the men’s room, folded bills in hand.

  “My man. Hit me up,” Goodwin said.

  Darin checked the stalls, made sure they were alone. Stepped into one stall and Goodwin followed him inside. Darin reached for the money but Goodwin pulled it away.

  “Uh-uh. Show me the shit, first.”

  Darin stared at him, brought his boot up on the toilet and slid open a hidden compartment on the heel of his boot.

  “Damn, Detention, that’s some serious secret agent shit right there. In your fucking boot, no shit? I gotta get me a pair of those.”

  Darin took out a baggie with pills in it. Held it out.

  “Money,” he said.

  “My man, here you go.”

  They swapped, pills for dollars, and Goodwin headed for the door.

  “Hold on,” Darin said and put a hand on the stall door.

  “What?”

  “This is only sixty. You’re light by forty.”

  “So I’m light, so what? Let’s say I owe you.”

  “Told you, don’t do credit. No cash, no product,” Darin grabbed for the baggie. Goodwin whiffed it back out of reach.

  “Hey man, come on. I’m a good customer, right?”

  “Not anymore. Give that back.”

  “See, I’ve been thinking, I met this Dominican dude a week or so ago who told me he can get me the same shit that you got, but only for sixty. Competition, man.”

  “So buy your product from him and give me mine back.”

  “He ain’t here and I think you should match his price.”

  “Forget it.”

  Goodwin just smiled at Darin, not moving. “Be cool, man. We could be pals, you and me, hang out, party. Shit like that. You look like you could use some friends, man.”

  Darin stared at him. “I don’t mix business with personal. That’s not how I roll. Just give me my product back.”

  “Possession is nine-tenths of the law, bro.”

  Darin reached for the baggie again. Goodwin put his hand on Darin’s chest and shoved him backward, nearly into the toilet. Darin bounced off fast and swung at Goodwin’s head. Goodwin blocked it easily and hooked a punch to Darin’s gut. The air went out of Darin and he went down to his knees.

  “I thought for a reform school kid, you’d be tougher than this,” Goodwin said. He reached down and picked up the sixty dollars and stuck it in his pocket. Darin grabbed for Goodwin’s leg. He stepped back out of reach and kicked Darin in the side.

  “Be cool, bro,” Goodwin said. “Relax, man. This is how it’s gotta be. You owe me a buy-back, I think. So I’m taking it.”

  Goodwin tucked his money and the pills into a pocket and pushed out of the stall. Checked his hair in the mirror as Darin got to his feet and caught his breath.

  “You’re cut off, buy your shit from someone else from now on,” Darin said.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. You know, if Coach Healy finds out about that secret spot in your boot, gotta think he’ll shit a brick. Healy hates your fucking guts and would LOVE to know where your stash is. Think about it.”

  “You snitch on me, I’ll snitch on you. I’ll tell him I’ve been selling you pills and pot for over a year and that you’re high before every game.”

  “Tell on me? Right. And who do you think he’s gonna believe, me or you? I’ll just put on my innocent face,” Goodwin changed his expression to one of pure shock and innocence, “and go, ‘Coach, I don’t know what he’s talking about, swear to God,’ and he’ll believe me. I’m king of this school. You’re a felony waiting to happen, that’s what Coach calls you. He hates you, he’d never believe you. Nah, man, you won’t say anything and I won’t say anything and we’ll keep on as we’ve been doing.”

  “Uh-uh, you’re not getting anything from me, ever again,” Darin said.

  Goodwin stopped, turned around.

  “I think I am. You forget, a lot of your customers, they’re good friends of mine. In fact, I think what we’ll do is, we’ll become partners. You need help and protection. I can supply that, for a piece of the action. You’ll give me a slice of each sale and I’ll send more customers your way. I know a lot more people than you do and I can actually MAKE people go into business with you. People who’d never thought about trying your shit, they will if I make them. We’ll make a lot of cash, man. That’s what we’ll do, we’ll be partners on this.”

  “Fuck that noise, we’re never doing business together ever again,” Darin said.

  Goodwin smiled at him in the mirror, turned around and, quick as a cat, grabbed Darin by the ear and twisted it, hard. Darin grabbed Goodwin’s wrist and fought against it, but Goodwin was too strong.

  “Yeah, we are. We’re partners from here on, unless you want to be run right out of this school. You’ll keep me supplied with product, free of charge, AND send me twenty percent of the take from everyone else, and I’ll make sure you don’t get beat up in any more bathrooms.”

  Goodwin shoved Darin into a stall. The door to the bathroom swung open.

  “What’s going on in here?” Healy demanded, standing at the entrance.

  “Nothin’, Coach,” Goodwin smiled, all innocent.

  “Don’t feed me that malarkey, son, I asked you, what’s going on?”

  “Just a … little misunderstanding, that’s all, Coach.”

  “A misunderstanding about what?”

  “Johnson doesn’t like the Seahawks, and, well, I like them and we had words about it, Coach, that’s all. It’s nothing, really. It’s over and done, won’t happen again,” Goodwin looked at Darin. “Right, Johnson?”

  Darin just stared at him. “Definitely WON’T happen again.”

  “Goodwin, did Johnson try and sell you something?”

  “Coach, you know I don’t mess with that stuff, I’m all about football and basketball and I don’t wanna mess up my college ride.”

  “I KNOW you don’t mess with it, what I want to know is if he TRIED to sell you anything. Did he?”

  “Nah, Coach,” Goodwin smiled. “No way. We was just havin’ a disagreement.”

  “Okay, Goodwin, out of here. On the double.”

  “Coach, it was nothing, really⁠—”

  “I said OUT. Now.”

  Goodwin winked at Darin and sauntered on out. Healy glared at Darin.

  “Okay, Johnson, hands up against the wall.”

  “What for? You placing me under citizen’s arrest?”

  “Just do it. Now.”

  “No. Hell, no.”

  “Got something to hide? Afraid I’ll find it? On the wall, now.”

  “You don’t have the right to search me.”

  “I have EVERY right, Johnson.”

  Healy grabbed Darin by the arm. Darin knocked his hand off.

  “Get your fucking hands off me!”

  Healy got right in Darin’s face, nose to nose.

  “Don’t get tough with me, boy. I can call the cops right now, get them in here and let them turn you upside down and shake you until your stash fall out.”

  “Go ahead, call ’em. I don’t have anything on me.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ll call them, I will do it.”

  “Do it, and then we’ll know for sure who the asshole is. It’s you.”

  Healy got into further into Darin’s face.

  “You challenging me, boy?”

  “Yeah, I’m challenging you. This is such bullshit. You walk into a bathroom and see a bigger kid beating on someone smaller and you right away take the bigger kid’s word for it. Every time, every single time. You’re fucking blind, man.
”

  “I’m not blind. Jason isn’t the drug dealer here. You are.”

  “So it’s not even possible that your pet quarterback is just being an asshole, just beating me up for shits and giggles, not even possible that he might have even robbed me, right? And what about Shakes Hobart, is he a drug dealer? That asshole Goodwin has been beating on Shakes the whole trip, hell, he’s been doing it for at least a year that I’ve been in this shitty school, you’ve seen it, you’re watched it, and as far as you’re concerned it’s always the little kid’s fault.”

  “That’s a whole different thing, Hobart brings a lot of what he gets on himself, and that has nothing to do with⁠—”

  “Bullshit. You’re just a fucking asshole like Goodwin and you’re protecting your own, that’s all that it is at the end of the day.”

  Healy went nearly purple with rage, grabbed Darin by the throat. Darin was certain the teacher was about to throttle Darin where he stood. They were interrupted when a waiter entered the men’s room and cleared his throat.

  “Sir,” the waiter said. “Is there a problem here? We heard shouting.”

  Healy didn’t take his eyes off Darin, but the moment of violence had passed.

  “You’re DONE in this school, Johnson. Done. I’m calling the principal and the superintendent first thing in the morning and tell them you’re just too much trouble to keep in our school, I’ll even go to the school board if I have to, to get you out. You keep to yourself on the trip home and keep quiet and you just may even stay out of jail. Just to clarify this for you, you punk piece of shit masquerading as a high school student, so that there’s no misunderstanding about what I’m telling you. I hear one fucking peep out of you, you even look cross-eyed at me, I’m calling the cops and telling them you assaulted me. Yeah, I’ll lie if I have to, you bet your ass I will, who do you think the cops are gonna believe, a hardworking teacher or a punk like you? I’ll even have you strip-searched, one of those full cavity really fun ones.”

  Healy wheeled and headed for the door.

  “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Healy stopped again, pointed a finger at Darin.