6:59 (9 page)

****

I sped down the highway going at least ninety. I weaved in between cars like it was my job, grinning at Armando's shocked face.

“You're going a little fast, don't you think?” Armando asked, trying to come off as calm and collected. “I mean, cops are all over the place. You could get a ticket.”

Like I cared about a piece of dumb paper. I rolled my eyes at him and sped up even more, flying through the cars, making the world around us a blur. I liked this. I liked the freedom of cars. I liked moving fast. Fast is what I do.

But not what Armando does. “Dude, chill out. We won't get a ticket, alright?” I said.

Armando held up his hands in surrender. “It's not about the tickets. It's about my life. Keep your eyes on the road for once. Please.”

I kept grinning at him, turning the rap music up really loud. As I sang along, I rocked my head back and forth, bugging out of him. When I caught him rolling his eyes, I laughed. “What, you don't like rap music?” I yelled over the sick beats.

Armando flipped his hair and shook his head. “No, that's not it. I like rap. Cameron hates rap, though.” There we go with that stupid
Cameron
thing again. Before I could call him out on it, he spoke up again. “My girlfriend likes it, too.”

When he said
girlfriend
, I cocked my head to the side. “Oh, dude, you got a girl?” I asked with a grin.

Armando nodded. “Of course,” he said, reaching over and turning the music down a little bit. “I've been with her since I was ten. I'm eighteen now.”

I gave him a slow whistle. “Wow,” I said, imagining spending
that
much time with just one girl. That must've sucked. “You mean to tell me you've been with the same girl for half your life?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” he answered with a smile. “Didn't think about it that way.”

“You haven't broken up
once
?”

Armando thought about my question for a little bit before finally coming up with an answer. “Well, I met her when I was ten in Galicia. Fell in love. Came over to America at fifteen. That's when stuff got a little rough.”

“Rough like how?” I asked, turning off the exit and into the city. We were almost there.

He flipped his dark hair again. “I started high school with her. She was maturing. She started looking crazy hot. Guys started texting. She started hanging out with girls
and
guys.” He stared out the window, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Then my now-best-friend, Cameron, started liking her a lot.” He looked over at me, meeting my shocked eyes. “I know what you're thinking: how could he be my best friend now if he was all over my girlfriend?”

“Um,
yeah
,” I said, even though I was more shocked that Armando used that stupid name
again
.

“Cameron was a little strange freshman year. He was really ugly, twerpish, skinny. Kind of a loser. He was Hudson's English tutor freshman year and basically a nonentity in the popular crowd.

“But then
sophomore
year he just, like, blossomed, I guess. He got really hot and all — and everyone was all over him. The girls couldn't get enough of him — including Hudson, my girlfriend. And since he was Hudson's tutor, they got to know each other really well.

“I got really mad at this white dude, you know?” Armando continued, shaking his head. “I mean, I was fresh-off-the-boat, had an accent thicker than cottage cheese, and could barely understand people. But I was still
me
, the guy Hudson had fallen in love with five years ago. Why she was leaving me for the ugly duckling was beyond me. I just didn't know why she would choose—”

“And then what happened?” I asked, moving the tale along. I mean, it was an interesting anecdote but did I look like the kind of person who wanted to hear a sob story? Of course not.

Hair flip. “We were all at Tanya's beach party once,” he said. “Cameron and Hudson had gone together, of course. They were like the ‘star couple' and all. Everyone loved them. The only reason I went was because Hudson's mother begged me to do so. So I went.

“I couldn't stand watching them together. It annoyed me so much. So I ended up just walking up to her, taking her hand, and towing her away. Obviously she was freaking out and stuff. Because of that, Cameron got all big and bad, threatening me. I spun around and rocked him in the face.”

“
Wow
,” I hooted under my breath, pulling into the fast food restaurant drive-thru. The story was finally getting good.

Armando laughed, grinning at me. “Yeah, man,” he said. “So, yeah, he's on the floor, knocked out. Hudson's in my ear, yelling curse words. I hoist her over my shoulder and basically kidnap her from the party. When we get home, she starts yelling but I shut her up with a kiss.”

“That's cute.” It really wasn't. I just wanted to hear more about the fight. Why didn't that Cameron dude fight back? Such a wuss.

“Thanks,” he said all giddily. “That was the best night of my life.”

That's when I shot him a look. “That was the best night of your life and all you did was punch a kid and kiss your girl?” Lame.

But Armando shook his head and grinned. “We didn't just kiss…” his voice trailed off.

I stared at him, about to ask what else he did. But then I got it. “
Oh
yeah
,” I hooted, clapping his hand. “Get it, dude.” I focused on the monitor and ordered basically everything off the menu. Then I glanced at Armando. “So you punched this kid and stole his girl. How in the world did you guys become best friends?”

Armando laughed heartily. “Yeah, I was a douche bag,” he agreed. “For, like, half a year, Cameron wouldn't talk to Hudson. They had a really bad breakup — if they even broke up at all — and Hudson and I couldn't get enough of each other. But pretty soon, people forgot about the whole Cameron-Hudson thing — even Cameron.

“One day, Cameron and I were doing laps in the pool, cooling off after a huge meet. Cameron was, like, freaking out, trying to finish his twenty laps so he could go home. He was acting really weird. I finished my laps earlier than him, climbing out of the water. The second I was out of the water, I heard coach start screaming.”

“What was he screaming about?” I asked, grabbing the food from the fast food restaurant employee.

“You see, Cameron had just completely blacked out, head down, sinking into the water. I jumped in and saved him. He woke up later, totally fine. So I went home.” Armando shoved some fries into his mouth without bothering to thank me for actually getting the food. “The next day, Cameron came rushing up to me, thanking me for saving his life. And then from that day on, we were cool.”

“What a little puss,” I said through a full mouth of burger. “He became your best friend because you saved his life? And who blacks out in water? Is he stupid?”

Armando just stared out the window. “He couldn't help it.”

“He's on the swim team! What an idiot.” I swallowed my burger after three bites, following it with fries and my drink. After wincing as the congestion in my esophagus passed, I burped low and deep. Then I glanced at Armando. “Alright, party time.”

Armando sipped his drink. “Party? How old are you?”

“Are you my father?” I countered.

“No, I'm just asking,” he shot back.

“I'm eighteen, your age.”

Armando nodded his head as if confirming something. I ignored the nod and sped further downtown. The houses suddenly became smaller, more rundown, more shady — just the way I liked it.

“So where exactly are we going?” Armando asked, checking his watch. “I have to make sure I get home on time.”

“For your bedtime?” I mocked, turning up the music, trying to drown out his nagging. Why did I bring him along in the first place? So what if he looked cool — he was turning into a downer. “We're gonna blaze and get and really, really,
really
drunk — just so twisted, man,” I finally answered.

“Blaze?” Armando asked confused.

“Yes.” I didn't feel like explaining what
blaze
meant to a five-year-old girl. I just rolled my eyes and slowed the car down at the corner of a dark street. I rolled the window down, turning the music low. As the guys came out from behind the dumpster, I quickly scanned them, taking note of any weapons.

Just a few guns. We were good.

I clapped hands with DJ. “What's good?”

DJ leaned on the open window, shrugging his hooded shoulders. “Just chillin' and stuff. Whatcha got?” He stared at me through his sunglasses. I reached into my jeans pockets, pulling out the cash. “Regular,” I said, pushing the cash into his thick hands.

DJ licked the tip of his finger and counted the money. “Just the pot? Nothing else?” he asked incredulously. “Man, don't play that. We got
way
better stuff than that baby stuff. You sure?”

I nodded, laughing a little bit. “Just the regular,” I repeated.

DJ stuffed his hands into his huge pockets and yanked out the bags of goods. He tossed them into my lap. “Have fun at your tea party, you little girl.”

“I will,” I said, flipping him off. I clapped his hand again, rolled up the window, and sped away.

After a minute or so, Armando nodded at the bags in my lap. “You do drugs?” he asked nonchalantly.

“You don't?” I countered, cocking my head to the side as I turned up the music.

Armando shook his head slowly. “That's bad for you, you know,” he said, pointing at the stash. “It could really screw with your mind and stuff.”

I didn't feel like getting into this argument again. I just turned up the music really loud, drowning his stupid voice out.

****

I heard the loud rumble of music, rattling the dark red door. “Dennis!” I called, banging on the door. “Let us in!” I stepped back and glanced at Armando, who wore his jacket as if it were protecting him. I rolled my eyes. “Could you quit acting like a five-year-old for two seconds?” I asked irritated. “We're just going to have a little fun for a few hours. Nobody's gonna die, alright?”

The door swung open before Armando could respond. Dennis was there, grinning with bloodshot eyes. A cloud of smoke swirled around his head. “
Hey-o
!” he cried out, taking a swig of his drink. “Cammy, you made it!”

I nodded and pointed at Armando. “I brought a friend.”

Dennis looked him up and down. “Nice, nice,” he said, stepping into the house. “Shut the door after you!” He disappeared into the crowd.

I pushed the door closed and glanced at Armando. He was busy coughing up a storm. “What… what is that?” he asked, eyes watering.

“The good stuff,” I said and plunged into the party.

Armando and I ended up in the circle, passing around a bong. Armando would always shake his head and decline it whenever it came around to him. “What kind of friend did you bring, Cammy?” Dennis asked, looking at Armando. “He sucks!”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Whatever,” I said, sucking on the bong. I glared at Armando.

He glared back.

“At least drink something,” I suggested, passing him a drink.

Armando shook his head again. “Can't. If you think you're driving us home after getting twisted, you're more stupid than I thought.” He stood up, pushing away the chick who was hanging on his neck. “I'll be in the car. Get out there when you're done acting stupid.”

“I'm not acting stupid! I'm having fun!” I called after him.

Armando just shook his head and left the party.

I stared after him, ticked off. Why did I have to bring him?
Obviously
he wasn't going to party. He was straighter than a straight-edge! And this kid claimed to be my friend. Screw that.

“Yo! Pass it already!” Dennis croaked at me, referring to the smoking contraption.

I glanced down at it and then passed it along. So what if Armando thought I was acting stupid! He was the stupid one! Nobody likes a Debbie Downer!

But, for some reason, I felt empty. I didn't feel like partying anymore. Getting twisted wasn't fun without friends. It was just weird. And Armando was cool. I didn't want him hating on me all night. If he didn't want to get twisted, then neither did I.

I stood up and clapped Dennis on the hand. “I'm leaving,” I said.

“But you just got here!” he whined, scraping back his long, greasy hair.

I shrugged. “See ya, Den,” I said and headed out to the car.

When I got there, Armando was laying back in the driver's seat, eyes closed. When I opened the passenger door, his eyes popped open. “Done already?” he asked flatly.

I clicked on the seat belt. “Hardly,” I said. Then I glanced at him. “There's a party on Fifty-Second. No drugs, just alcohol. Will you party with me
there
?” I asked, hopeful.

Armando clicked on the engine, pulling out of the parking place. “Let's do it.”

I grinned and kicked back.
Now
it was time to party.