Mom tries to stroke my head but I move away from her. Her eyes look sad and that annoys me even more. Why should I feel bad for her? She’s the one that married the guy.
“Come down and have breakfast.”
“In a minute,” I say.
She gets up and leaves the room. Queasiness rises from my gut. I just want to crawl under the covers. But I don’t. Instead I put a fake smile on and head down to breakfast.
SEI (6)
Monday at lunch, my status rises to unprecedented levels.
I’m getting in line for the grill where they do hamburgers and hotdogs (it doesn’t taste as good as it sounds), and Nate Diaz is standing with his gaggle of mean stooges near the front.
“Richardson,” Nate says.
Fear rushes into me. What now, I think?
As I stand at the back of the line, everyone else looks at Nate and then at me.
“Come up here with us,” Nate says.
And then the realization hits me.
I’m no longer that kid everyone ignores, the one who barely registers. Nate Diaz, the most feared kid in our school, isn’t embarrassed to associate with me. What’s more, he RESPECTS me.
He gives me a pound and grins. I can smell the faint odor of pot emanating from him and his dull gray t-shirt and faded jeans. His eyelids are heavy, pupils large and glassy. “You and Jay figure out our next victims?” he asks.
“Not yet. Haven’t really seen him today.”
As we move slowly toward the grill, the scent of cooking meat and the sounds of sizzling grow stronger.
“When you see him, let him know I’m ready to put the smack down. Just give me the word and it’s on.” He balls his hands up into fists and holds them up. I can see scarring on some of the knuckles. It seems all too easy to imagine them crashing into my jaw and nose. I don’t get the feeling Nate really cares who he hits, as long as he gets to hit somebody.
“I’ll definitely pass the message along.”
After I get my cheeseburger, I head over to the lunch table with the others. I’m greeted with smiles and respectful nods of the head by the boys, and when I look around, it’s as though the rest of the kids in the cafeteria are looking at us with awe and reverence.
***
That weekend, we have our first official party at Jay’s house.
Only a select group of people have been invited and we have a couple of guys from the football team manning the door to make sure nobody crashes. There’s a guest list and everything.
Candice Simmons shows up with three of her girl friends. She’s wearing a low-cut tank top and even lower-rider jeans. When she steps into the room, everyone turns to look at her.
Jay sees her and approaches, while I fall quietly behind. I don’t want to talk to Candice after what happened at the football game. She never liked me much to begin with and now I’m fairly certain she despises me.
“So you decided to show after all,” Jay says to her. He leans in and gives her a hug.
She puts a hand on his arm and it lingers there. “Hey, I can’t miss the most exclusive party of the year just because the guy hosting it is an asshole.”
“Don’t talk about Richardson that way, you’ll hurt his feelings,” Jay says.
The girls all laugh.
Candice’s eyes widen when she sees how we’re dressed. Jay made the entire crew wear our best suits. He wanted us to stand out as different from everyone else.
“What’s with the outfits?” she asks.
“Nothing. Just trying to show some style. It gets boring always wearing hoodies and jeans all the time,” Jay says. If it were anyone else, they’d be laughed out of the party. But as long as Jay is doing it, it must be cool.
“Okay. Whatever works,” Candice says with a shrug.
“Come in and have a drink. We’ve got a bar here with anything you could want.”
Candice looks over at the makeshift bar where kids are mixing their own drinks.
“Classy party like this and no bartender?”
“Nobody wanted to get stuck behind the bar all night,” Jay says.
In actuality, none of us had thought of having a bartender. We were too busy finding a way to get enough alcohol into the house, since none of us have fake IDs.
“I’ll do it, I love bartending,” Candice says.
“Seriously?” Jay laughs.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I just thought—“
“You thought I was too much of a stuck up bitch to mix a few cocktails for you and your friends?”
“Well…yeah, sort of.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about me, Stevens.” She gives him a little smile and then goes to the bar and immediately starts taking orders like a pro.
Jay’s watching her with newfound interest. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the expression he gets when he’s decided he wants something or someone. “Shit, I’m impressed,” he says, almost too low for anyone to hear.
“She’s just sucking up because you punked her cousin,” I say.
Jay glances at me. “Stop hating, Richardson. Makes you seem weak.”
I want to respond, but decide against it. Seems like Jay and Candice have decided that it’s easier to make love then war. Who am I to say otherwise?
Instead I go back to sipping my warm beer and watching the party unfold.
The next hour or so is pretty uneventful. Jay has me and the others running around getting more cups or picking up drinks, talking to “VIPs” (mostly hot girls Jay wants to impress), that kind of thing.
When he’s not giving orders, Jay is spending time at the bar, flirting with Candice. She seems to be flirting right back from what I can tell.
The party is fairly crowded by now, and hot too. I take a break and mop some sweat from my brow with a small napkin. I’m standing just to Jay’s left, close enough that I hear him tell Candice there’s enough rooms upstairs for her and her friends to crash tonight if they want.
I shake my head in disgust, but not obviously enough for anyone to notice.
Suddenly Alec approaches from out of the mass of partygoers with a concerned look on his face. “We have a problem, boss.”
Jay doesn’t hear him, he’s too busy hitting on the bartender.
“Jay,” Alec repeats even more loudly.
Still, Jay can’t be bothered. I grab Jay’s arm—a bit rougher then I’d intended—
and he spills some of his drink. He turns and glares at me.
“What the fuck Richardson?”
“Someone’s trying to get your attention,” I say.
“What’s going on?” Jay asks, as he wipes his wet hand down the front of my shirt.
“Thanks,” I mutter, but nobody’s paying any attention to me.
“We’ve got trouble over there,” Alec says, pointing into the throng.
“Who is it?” Jay says. He’s now alert and tuned in. He LIKES trouble.
Alec nods to Leo’s uncle Dillon and his two friends standing by the sliding glass door. “Leo’s uncle and his buddies are a little drunk and they’ve been making comments about us,” Alec says. “Mostly about the way we’re dressed.”
“They don’t seem like they’re doing much of anything,” Jay says, losing interest.
His gaze darts back to Candice.
“They’re going to be trouble,” Alec says. “I’m telling you.”
“If they make trouble, they’ll get a lot more then they bargained for,” Jay says.
“Just thought you should know.”
“Okay, keep me posted.” Jay walks back to where Candice is bartending and whispers something in her ear. She looks at him and laughs. He leans in and kisses her neck and she smiles again, a sexy smile.
“Great,” Alec says, shaking his head.
“Tell me about it,” I say.
I look around at the room and see a pretty happy crowd. There’s probably about twenty-five people drinking and talking. We’ve got a DJ playing stuff off his iPo
d (he’s got like two thousand songs to choose from). There’s an even mix of girls and guys, each hand-selected by Jay and our crew.
We did let in three guys who we weren’t sure about. Only one of them was invited, Leo’s older uncle, Dillon. Jay didn’t want to invite the guy but Leo begged and begged. And then Dillon showed up with his two asshole friends.
I see one of Dillon’s buddies try and grab Jenna Thompson’s ass. She turns around and says something to him and he just laughs and makes another comment.
I point at them. “That guy just tried to grab—“
“I saw, I saw,” Alec says.
I wonder if Jay noticed, but he’s totally engrossed in conversation with Candice, he’s missing everything.
“Go get Leo,” I tell Alec. “Maybe he can make his uncle chill out.”
Leo is outside drinking and smoking. Alec goes out to get him. That same rowdy guy says something to Alec as he walks by, but Alec ignores him.
I wish these three guys were pussies, but the truth is, they’re nasty looking characters. Then I wish that we had thought to invite Nate Diaz to the party. He would have loved to play the role of enforcer.
Alec comes back a few minutes later with Leo in tow. Leo’s suit is rumpled and stained and he looks a wreck. “What’s up,” he says, his words slurring a tiny bit.
“I thought Jay said no getting drunk,” I tell him.
Leo sneers at me. “What business is it of yours?”
“I’m Jay’s consigliere.”
“You’re nothing but plain old Richardson to me, you skinny bastard.” He belches and blows it towards my face. I smell stale peanuts and even staler beer.
“Look, you need to tell your uncle to chill the fuck out. He’s bothering everyone.”
“That’s just Dillon being Dillon. I can’t stop him.”
“If you don’t do something, we’ll do it for you,” Alec says.
Nick is sitting on the couch and chatting with a couple of girls, but he’s watching us too, noticing what’s going on.
“Your uncle and his friends are way out of line,” I say. “You need to do something about it.”
Alec nods, agreeing with me. I feel a twinge of pride that I stepped up to handle the situation without needing to involve Jay.
Leo’s trying hard to think but it doesn’t seem to be getting him anywhere. His large brow is furrowed. “They don’t mean anything, man, they’re just roughnecks, you know? This isn’t their scene.”
“Then they shouldn’t have come here,” Alec says. “And if they mess this party up, Jay is gonna blame you, bro.”
“I’ll go ask them to chill, okay?” Leo says.
“You do that,” Alec replies.
Leo takes a deep breath and then heads over to where Dillon and his friends are standing.
“You think he can get them to stop being such pricks?” I say.
Alec laughs. “Not a chance in hell. But it was worth a shot.”
A moment later, Leo’s trying to talk to his uncle and it’s obviously not going well. The uncle is shaking his head and mouthing off. His two friends look ready for a fight.
“Time to tell the boss,” Alec says. “Hurry.”
I run over to the bar.
Candice sees me and pulls a face. “Your little servant boy is back,” she says.
“I’m not a servant boy.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Jay looks at me, annoyed. “What now.”
“Code red. Leo’s guests are not cooperating.”
Jay’s eyes focus in on the commotion by the door and he gets a look of rage on his face. Rage and something else. Maybe it’s glee? His eyes glitter with anticipation.
“Come with me, Richardson. We’ve got some house cleaning to do.”
I follow Jay across the room to confront the goons. Nick and Alec are close behind. My heart is thumping in my chest and my legs feel like jelly.
When we get over to where they’re standing, Jay smiles at them.
Dillon looks at us. He’s a wiry guy, about six feet tall, with tattoos spiraling up both forearms. One tattoo in particular catches my eye. A red dragon with a long tongue lolling from its half open mouth.
“Hey, look, it’s the IRS,” Dillon says, grinning at his own joke, and his smile mimics the dragon’s smile on his forearm. “Did you guys come to do my taxes?”
I want to tell him that the IRS doesn’t actually DO your taxes, you report your income to them (I know this because my dad is always bitching about it), but I think better of it and keep my mouth firmly shut.
“You’re only here because my friend Leo wanted you to be here,” Jay says to Dillon. “But this is a private party and you guys are a little old to be hanging with high school kids anyhow.”
“We like staring at the hot young ladies,” Dillon says. “So I think we’ll stay a little while longer.”
Jay shakes his head. “You don’t seem to understand. You’re acting way out of line and I’m not asking. I’m telling you to please go.”
“Oh, and I’m really scared of Leo’s corny friend wearing a fucking monkey suit.
Man, get the fuck out of my face.”
Jay smiles wider. “We extended our hospitality to you and your buddies, but since you’ve been so disrespectful, you better leave right now.”
“Why don’t you get me a drink. Fucking clown.” Dillon looks over at his buddies and they all burst out laughing.
Suddenly, Leo comes out of nowhere and smashes a bottle across his uncle’s head. Shards of it fly in all directions, showering us as Dillon screams and falls to the ground. I put my hand up to ward off the spray of alcohol and glass as madness breaks out across the room.
Within the space of seconds, Nick and Jay are kicking the shit out of the guy who tried to grab Jenna’s ass and Alec is fighting the other friend, while I just stand there, paralyzed.
The entire room erupts into pure chaos.
It’s like one of those old western movies where a bar fight breaks out and one guy punches the other and then suddenly there’s chairs flying across the room and shattering against the wall, dudes hitting other dudes with glasses of beer, bodies sailing through plate glass windows.
This isn’t quite that bad—but it’s pretty close. Nobody seems to know what’s going on but there are kids throwing punches and yelling. I’m just standing there, afraid to even move, when I’m pushed HARD from behind and I stumble forward, eventually landing on my hands and knees.
My right pant leg is covered in beer when I stand up again.
I know I should do something to help my friends but I don’t feel like I have any strength in my body. It’s as if I’m nothing but a big blob of jello, quivering in the corner as my buddies go to war.
As quickly as it starts--it’s over. Jay and Nick have pummeled one guy into a crying mess and he’s screaming for mercy.
I’m shocked at the blood and mayhem and sheer brutality of it. I’m completely paralyzed.
“Get up and get the fuck out of my house,” Jay says, grabbing one guy by his shirt and pulling him out the back door. He literally tosses him outside. Alec and his opponent seemed to have called a truce. Jay gives that guy one look and he runs for the door and follows the other kid outside.
Then Jay pulls Leo off of his uncle. Dillon’s head is gushing blood and he’s badly hurt. One of his eyes is swollen shut. I grimace and look away from the carnage.
“Don’t ever disrespect my friends again!” Leo screams, and he’s crying as Jay holds him back from doing anything else.
The party is dead silent now. Whatever other random scuffles started up have died out.
Nick and Alec help to pick Dillon up, since he can barely move on his own.
“Make sure Leo’s uncle gets home,” Jay tells Alec. “Even if you have to drive him yourself. Nick, you go with them.”
“Sure thing.”
The two of them usher Leo’s staggering, bloodied uncle outside.
“Maybe Leo’
s uncle needs to go to the hospital,” I whisper to Jay. “His head looked bad.”
Jay turns and gives me a cold stare.
Ignoring me, he turns around and looks at everybody standing there. The crowd is quiet. He smiles like nothing’s happened and there isn’t a mass of broken glass and blood across the floor. “Come on, let’s get the music back on, people. The night is young.” He gestures to the DJ. “Put something upbeat on, get everyone dancing again.”
I stare at the ground and the pieces of glass from the broken bottle and splotches of blood in all directions.
Jay sees me looking at the mess. “Clean that shit up,” he says.
Jay obviously knows I didn’t get involved in the fight. I start to say something, to apologize or explain my lack of action, but he’s still giving me the cold shoulder.
Jay turns to Leo, his demeanor quickly softening. Leo’s still crying, and Jay’s talking to him, no doubt telling him he did the right thing. That he’s proud of him.
I start wandering around the basement, looking for stuff to clean up the mess. I’m sweating and nervous. Firstly because of the violence I just witnessed, and secondly because I turned bitch and stood there while my crew fought.
I feel like I might be kicked out of the group for this. One of the lowest things a guy can do is refuse to back his friends in a fight. It’s something that my reputation—as small as it is—may never recover from.
I wonder if Jay will start freezing me out again like he did when we were younger. The very thought of that makes me almost sick to my stomach.
I find a big roll of paper towels in the far corner of a room near a trash bag full of empty beer cans and pick it up, slowly unwinding a few sheets to use on the mess near the back door.
Jay is still talking to Leo. I wish he’d at least look at me, say something. Even if it’s just to tell me what a pussy I am, I’d have a chance to explain. But what explanation is there? I wimped out, end of story. There’s nothing I can say to Jay that will change anything.
I picture myself friendless and alone again the way I’ve been for the last few years. Nobody will talk to me after this. The cool kids will think I’m a loser, and the smart kids will always consider me a goon, someone to be avoided like the plague.
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