“Don’t look at me,” Adam tells him. “I’m not hugging you.”
They shake hands instead. It’s awkward but it’s also kind of nice. Adam and Victoria wait as Sam wheels himself into the apartment building and waves good-bye. Then they walk to the bus loop.
“Your brother is amazing,” Victoria tells Adam. “He’s a really cool guy.”
“You like him?” Adam asks her. “You had a good time tonight?”
Victoria kisses him. “Of course,” she says.
Adam feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s a text from Sam.
(She’s a FOX, bro.)
Adam laughs.
“Sam likes you, too,” he says.
134.
Christmas break ends three days into January. The holiday is over. Adam’s back to work.
And Tommy isn’t happy.
135.
“I can’t keep doing this, man,” Tommy says as Adam hands over the profits from their latest booze run. “Forty bucks a week just isn’t worth my time.”
“Come on,” Adam tells him. “We cleaned up at New Year’s.”
“I made a hundred bucks,” Tommy says. “I can triple that on a Tuesday night moving pills. You want to make real money, you help me deal to these rich bitches.”
Adam looks around the parking lot. Then he looks back at Tommy.
Nah, he thinks. No pills.
Adam has a better idea.
136.
Adam calls Brian. They shoot some more hoops.
“My cousin’s still hooking you up?” Brian asks him. “Getting you all the booze you want?”
“Yeah, Tommy’s cool.” Adam shoots. Misses. “I think he’s a little disappointed by the profits, though.”
Brian catches the ball on the rebound. “I can see that,” he says. “Forty bucks a week or something, right? Ain’t paying his car note.”
“I’m thinking I don’t need him anyway,” Adam says.
Brian shoots. Makes it. Adam passes the ball back.
“Of course you need him,” Brian says. “You’re not legal. Plus you don’t have a car. How’re you going to sell booze without him?”
“I’m working on it.” Adam catches Brian’s rebound. “How’d you like to make some money with me?”
“What, selling booze?” Brian shakes his head. “There’s no profit in it, man. You said it yourself. Anyway, I’m not legal, either.”
Adam dribbles the ball once. Then he holds it. “I’m not talking booze,” he tells Brian. “I’m talking IDs.”
137.
Adam’s thought process:
Tommy’s unhappy. Tommy keeps pushing the pill angle. Adam doesn’t want to sell drugs. But Tommy’s probably not sticking around much longer at forty bucks a week.
So.
Tommy’s out.
Begs the question:
Why doesn’t Adam bail from the booze biz himself?
Answer:
Because there’s fucking cachet in it.
Because parties.
Because popularity.
Because duh.
Adam’s selling booze, with or without Tommy. Without Tommy is harder. Without Tommy requires:
a)a fake ID.
b)a car.
Adam’s thought process:
Brian has a car.
Brian probably knows someone with a fake ID hookup.
Brian could probably use some extra cash.
Ergo:
Brian is the new Tommy.
Brian can help Adam score the booze.
138.
But then Adam starts thinking about the other things he could do with a fake ID.
To wit:
- He could buy porn.
- He could buy cigarettes.
- He could get into clubs.
Adam doesn’t smoke. He gets his porn online. But he sure as hell would love to get into Crash.
And then Adam thinks:
Wouldn’t everybody?
139.
Brian takes Adam to meet this guy he knows, Bondy. Bondy works at a 7-Eleven a few blocks from Riverside High. Brian and Adam pick him up outside the store, drive him to this pretty little house in some suburb somewhere.
Bondy lets them in, offers them a drink, takes them downstairs to his workshop. Guy’s got mad computer equipment, printers, camera gear, everything. Like he robbed a Best Buy or something.
“Holy shit,” Adam says. “You’re fully equipped.”
Bondy nods. “Professional grade,” he says. “We doing this or what?”
Adam looks around. The camera gear. “You gotta take every kid’s picture here in this workshop?”
“Nah.” Bondy shrugs. “They provide the picture. Passport picture’s okay, but it’s better if they bring in their old ID card, like from their learner’s permit or something, and I can fool around with it. If they don’t have one, though, it’s cool. I can make it work.”
“How long’s the turnaround?” Adam asks him.
“Maybe a week? Maybe longer. Depends how busy things get.”
“And this stuff is legit, right? You can get into Crash with this stuff?”
“You could cross the border,” Bondy says. “Check it out.”
He opens a drawer and pulls out a stack of licenses bound by a rubber band. Hands one to Adam. Adam compares it with his own license.
“The magnetic strip is inoperative,” Bondy says, “so you can’t go to the casino or anywhere else they swipe it, but you want to get into a club downtown, you shouldn’t have a problem.”
“Fifty bucks,” Adam says.
Bondy nods. “Fifty bucks. Cash in advance.”
Adam hands him a hundred. “One for me and one for Brian,” he says. “Let’s see this stuff in action.”
140.
Afterward, Brian and Adam drop Bondy back at the 7-Eleven. Then Brian drives Adam home.
“You must be cleaning up with chicks by now,” Brian tells Adam as they drive. “With the booze and the homework and stuff. You sleep with that freshman yet?”
“Not yet.” Adam reaches over, fiddles with the radio. Finds a rap station from Detroit. “She told me she’s not ready.”
“What about you?” Brian says. “Wait, are you still a virgin?”
Adam turns up the music. “Yeah,” he says, staring out the window. “She’s my first girlfriend.”
“Shit, I’d go crazy,” Brian says. “Think you can wait?”
“I think so,” Adam tells him. “She’s worth it.”
“I hope so,” Brian says. “For your balls’ sake.”
141.
Adam tests out his new ID on Friday.
It’s the first week of school after break. Homework is steady but bearable. Victoria’s at a movie with Steph.
What the hell, Adam figures. I could use a night off.
(Anyway, Crash is practically a business expense at this point.)
There’s already a line out front when he rolls up. Pretty girls shivering in short dresses and guys with spiked hair and guido chains. Nobody Adam knows. No gods at the front of the line.
The bouncer’s the same guy who turned Adam down a couple months back. This time, he just checks Adam’s ID, checks Adam’s face, steps aside.
Adam’s in.
The club is foggy. Hot. Crowded. Adam pays the cover and walks into the mix. Nods his head to the music—
(some rowdy house/hip-hop mash-up)
—and pushes his way to the bar. Before he can get his drink, though, someone grabs his shoulder. “Adam.”
It’s Janie Ng.
She hugs Adam. “So good to see you!”
“Hey, Janie,” Adam says. “What’s up?”
Janie says something, but it’s too loud to hear. Adam just shrugs, and she gives up and drags him through the crowd to the back of the club, where
Paul Nolan and Sara Bryant and Alton Di Sousa are hanging out by a banquette. They’re all hammered. They all smile when they see Adam. Smile wide.
(Ex
cept Rob Thigpen. Rob Thigpen doesn’t smile at Adam, but whatever.
It’s all good.
Because:
Paul Nolan slaps him five.
Sara Bryant gives him a hug.
Alton thrusts a drink in his hand.
Crash, baby.
Hell yeah.)
142.
Adam drinks the beer that Alton gives him.
He drinks the Bacardi and Coke that Jessie hands him.
He tries to buy a round. The gods aren’t having it. Paul Nolan waves him off. “Don’t even think about it, bro,” he tells Adam. “You came through at the party. Tonight it’s on us.”
Adam protests.
(Weakly.)
Then he thinks, to hell with it.
He lets the gods buy him drinks.
He gets drunk, and then he gets drunker.
Crash, baby.
(And burn.)
143.
Dancing happens.
Jessie and Janie drag Adam to the dance floor. Paul Nolan and Sara Bryant start grinding. Alton picks up a college chick.
Adam’s drunk.
He’s a horrible dancer. Plus, he’s distracted. He keeps looking over at Rob Thigpen, where he’s standing at the bar with a couple of hockey buddies. He keeps having this thought, like he’s realizing why he hates Rob Thigpen so much.
(Besides the fact that he’s a dick.)
(And an asshole.)
(And he’s probably trying to hook up with Adam’s little sister.)
144.
Adam’s remembering Sam’s accident.
It was a hockey game, Riverside versus Nixon. Some douchebag from Nixon hit Sam into the boards from behind. Everyone said it was an accident.
(You know all this.)
Adam’s remembering the accident. He was there, at the game. He’s remembering the Nixon douchebag hitting Sam into the boards. The guy skating around while Sam lay on the ice. Watching as the paramedics carted Sam off on a stretcher.
The douchebag’s name was Thigpen, Adam’s pretty sure.
He’s, like, 99 percent sure the guy was Rob Thigpen’s brother.
145.
Adam’s mind = blown.
He can see the name Thigpen on the back of the douchebag’s jersey. Can see the guy tapping his stick on the ice as the medics wheeled Sam away.
(The asshole didn’t even get a penalty.)
Everything’s suddenly clear to Adam. He suddenly sees the light. Of course Rob Thigpen’s popular, if his brother was a hockey god. The Thigpen name would be royalty at Nixon. Rob wouldn’t even have to try.
It would have been the same at Riverside, if Sam hadn’t had his accident. If the Nixon douchebag hadn’t paralyzed Sam. Sam would be royalty.
Adam would be royalty.
Adam has that Thigpen douchebag to thank that he’s not.
146.
Adam stares at Rob Thigpen across the bar, until Rob Thigpen looks over at him. Rob curls his lip. Rob mouths something to his buddies.
Adam’s suddenly mad.
He’s suddenly headed over there to confront Rob Thigpen. Tell him what assholes he and his brother really are.
(He might even fight Rob Thigpen, maybe.)
Janie Ng intercepts him. Janie Ng saves the day.
She smiles at Adam. Leans in close and yells something Adam doesn’t understand. Puts his hands on her hips and starts grinding—
(her ass)
—into the front of his Rag & Bone jeans.
Adam looks at Rob Thigpen again. Looks at Janie. Adam has a sudden flash of enlightenment:
No matter how much he hates Rob Thigpen for what his brother did to Sam—
(and for being an asshole),
no matter how much Adam wants to kick Rob Thigpen’s ass—
(and he does),
there’s no way Adam wins by fighting Rob Thigpen. There’s no way he attains god status that way.
The minute Adam makes Rob Thigpen his enemy, it’s all over.
The gods will side with Rob. They all love the bastard.
The goddesses, too.
And moments like tonight—
(with Janie Ng and the rest of them)
—will never happen again.
Rob’s watching Adam. Watching Janie dance with him. And Janie’s all over Adam now. She takes his hands in her own and runs them all over her body.
(She has a smoking-hot body.)
Adam dances with Janie. Adam can tell Rob is watching. And suddenly, Adam knows how to beat him.
How to hurt him.
Just keep winning, baby. Win until you’re a bigger god than even Rob Thigpen. Win until you’re big enough to tear him to pieces.
And rub his face in it the whole fucking way.
147.
Janie turns around. Presses her body so close, Adam can feel her breath on his neck. She yells in his ear, “It’s too hot in here.”
Janie’s right.
It’s stifling hot.
So many people.
So much fog.
Adam takes Janie’s hand, leads her to the bar. Tries to score a glass of water.
No dice.
The bartender laughs in his face. Someone gives Adam a beer instead. Adam leaves it behind. Finds Janie again. Janie pulls him toward the front door, the street. “I know a place.”
Adam glances back as Janie leads him to the door. Finds Rob Thigpen in the crowd and gives him this wink and this smile,
like,
I’m better than you, asshole.
And I’ll make sure they all know it.
148.
It’s chaos outside Crash. Snow’s falling. Music’s thumping. Drunk people everywhere. Janie leads Adam toward a pizza place down the block.
Then:
Janie slips
Loses her balance
Screams a little bit
Falls
Adam catches her
Holds her up
Holds her tight
Holds her close
and that’s when
Janie kisses him.
149.
At first, Adam thinks:
Holy shit.
And then, Adam thinks:
Eat it, Thigpen.
And somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Adam thinks:
Victoria.
150.
“Let’s go somewhere.” Janie drags Adam back against a wall and starts kissing him again. “I know you want me.”
Adam’s too drunk to do much but let her kiss him. “Janie,” he says.
“I know you want me.” Janie giggles. “I can feel it.”
She’s not lying.
He can feel that she can feel it. And Adam’s tempted. But he pushes Janie away. “Shit,” he says. “Janie. I have a girlfriend.”
Janie makes a face. “Who, that frigid little freshman?”
Adam shrugs.
Janie laughs. “I’ll make you forget all about her, Adam,” she says. “Come on.” She looks up at him, and she’s pretty and drunk and a goddess, and Adam thinks:
Damn it.
Damn it.
He walks Janie back toward Crash, where Rob Thigpen and Paul Nolan and Sara Bryant and Jessie McGill and Alton Di Sousa are on their way out. Jessie winks at Adam. “Thought we lost you guys.”
“Just needed some air,” Adam tells her.
“We’re hitting the Pancake House,” Paul Nolan says. “You guys coming?”
“There’s, like, seven of us,” Adam says. “We won’t fit in a cab.”
“So we’ll take two,” Alton says. “You coming or no?”
Adam looks around. He’s wasted already. He probably should go home.
Get some sleep.
Work on homework assignments.
But Janie’s hanging on Adam’s arm. The kids in the Crash line are staring
like they’re jealous of Adam,
like he’s some kind of God
(and Rob Thigpen’s watching him, too).
�
�Fuck it,” Adam says. “Let’s get pancakes.”
151.
Needless to say, the weekend’s a write-off.
Adam wakes up in Paul Nolan’s basement late Saturday morning, fighting a—
(killer)
—hangover. Janie Ng’s passed out beside him, in an old T-shirt and these little boy-shorts, and Adam’s first thought is:
I’m still a virgin.
His next thought is:
I didn’t cheat on Victoria.
(Well, not really.)
And his last thought is:
I’m going to throw up in Paul Nolan’s basement.
Adam gets the hell out of there. Pukes in an alley. Staggers home to Remington Park, passes out in his room.
Sleeps—
(pretty much)
—until Monday.
152.
Sara Bryant’s at Adam’s locker first thing Monday morning. “Do you have my physics paper? It’s due tomorrow.”
Crap.
“I spent the weekend in bed,” Adam tells her. “Worst. Hangover. Ever.
“I’m sorry,” Adam tells her.
“I couldn’t finish the paper,” Adam tells her.
Sara stares at him. “What do you mean, you couldn’t finish? It’s. Due. Tomorrow.”
“I didn’t plan on getting so wasted on Friday,” Adam tells her. “I’ll get it done tonight. Sorry.”
“You’d better,” Sara says. “These are my fucking grades, Adam. Where are your priorities?”
Sara swears. “Jesus.”
153.
Adam goes home Monday night. First thing he does is finish Sara Bryant’s chem assignment.
(“Where are your priorities?”)
Then he goes on Facebook and updates Pizza Man Enterprises. Sends a PM to every one of his two hundred Likes. Offers club access.
Offers booze.
DIY.
Fake IDs, a hundred bucks a pop. Good as government.
Satisfaction guaranteed.
How to Win at High School Page 10