This choice: Borrow the book back from Justin • Go Back...Chapter #8A Date with Three Guys by: Seuzz   You have no idea what classes Justin takes or where to find him. You don't even know where his locker is. And you don't want to go looking for Maize or Perry. You keep your eyes peeled for Roth in the hallways, and ask a few acquaintances if they know where to find him, but they all shrug.
Not until fifth period, with time nearly running out, do you get an inspiration. When classes end you head back over to Walberg's. Dane Matthias is wedged high in the doorway, back against one sill and his bare feet pressed against the other. "Prescott!" he gasps, as though you're an apparition. "What're you doin' here?"
"Looking for you, Dane. Actually--"
"No shit! I'm popular today!" He licks a fingertip and jabs it boastfully in the air. "First Walberg and then you!"
You glance past him into the classroom. It's empty. "Yeah, um, you have detention with him, right?"
"Yeah!" He gasps again. "So, like, I'm all walkin' along, mindin' my own business--" He tries miming a saunter, and falls out of the doorway onto the ground. But he bounds back up, loose flannel shorts and too-big jacket flapping. "And sudden-like, old walrus butt grabs me outta nowhere! Fuck. Me!" He grasps his head with both hands and bends double.
Then he giggles. "Totally forgot I had a meeting with him." He pads over to a seat and crawls into it the hard way, over the desk top, twisting and grunting into the chair. Then he looks back up at you, blinking hard, as though trying to place who you are and what you're doing there.
"Yeah," you say slowly. "Have you seen Justin Roth around? Know where I can find him?"
"Justin?"
"Yeah. Justin."
"Justin?" he repeats.
"Yes. Justin Roth."
He mulls this. He stares glassily over your shoulder. His eyes go out of focus. He looks back at you. "Roth?"
You lean over him. "Dane. Where is Justin Roth?"
His face twists up fearfully. "Don't ask me trick questions, man. I got, like--" He grinds the heel of his hand into an eye.
"You looking for me?" a voice says behind you.
You ricochet off the ceiling and land almost four feet away, on the other side of the row of desks, heart hammering. Justin Roth is standing next to Dane, not six inches from where you just were. His eyes are wide. "Christ, Prescott, you should go out for track!"
"How long have you been--?" you squeak.
"A minute or two."
You look at Dane. He's hunched over the desk, his head buried under his arms. "Yeah," you stammer as you try to calm your still-racing pulse. "You remember that book I sold you? Last week?" If Justin is as stoned as Dane, this is going to be really fun conversation.
But he looks sober enough, and nods.
"I was wondering if I could borrow it back."
His face tightens. "What for?"
"Show it to some people?"
"Who?"
"Just some guys."
"You interested in it again?"
"Well, we were talking about magic and shit, and I mentioned I'd found this book--"
"Magic?" he asks. "What makes you think that book has anything to do with magic?"
Again, you're discomfited at how sharp he can be even when he's got a stupid expression on his face. "Um ... Well, it just seemed like ..."
"Like what?"
You swallow, and take your life in your hands. "It just seemed like it might be magical."
Justin stares at you a very long time. A gleam slowly comes into his eye. "Huh. Yeah, I'll let you take a look at it. Maybe let you borrow it." A little smile creeps up the side of his face. "You'll have to come get it."
"When?"
"Now?"
"Okay."
Dane groans without raising his head. Justin glances down at him. "No, not now. Five?" he asks. Dane groans again. "Seven." A shorter grunt from Dane. "And let's make it Tsosie's place. You know where that is?" You shake your head, and he gives you an address. "We'll have pizza or something, so don't eat."
"Pizza!" Dane shouts, raising his head. "I could really go for some pizza right about now!"
* * * * *
You almost call Justin to cancel, because you don't want to see Maize, and you don't like the neighborhood you find yourself in. Lotta crummy apartments and duplexes, only a block or two from a run-down industrial zone. His place, when you find it, turns out to be a little cinderblock shack, looking like it has no more than three rooms. At best.
And that's what it proves to have: A tiny living room with a kitchenette in the corner and a door leading to a bedroom. It smells awful--there's crap all over the floor and on the sofa, which stinks of mildew--and only one of the overhead bulbs lights. Tsosie, when he opens the door, only gives you a brief, hard look before letting you in.
It's just him and Perry and Justin, sitting on the floor. The latter grins at you and nudges Small. "Toldja he'd show. Gotta show a little faith in people, man."
"No one likes a smart ass," Small says. He looks at you, but his glance is mild.
"Hey guys. So, that book?" You'd like to get out of here as fast as possible.
"What's the rush," Justin asks. "You just got here. Sit. Pizza'll be here in ten."
"Actually, I already ate."
"Fucker. I told you not to."
"I just wanted to borrow that book from you."
"Don't be an asshole, Prescott. Sit." Roth's tone is heavy. Dangerous.
So you sit. Gingerly. The floor--a thin, worn, hard carpet--is stained.
The other three stare at you. Justin's gaze is appraising. Perry's is keen. Maize's is overtly hostile. No, that's not quite true. There's a little fear in it. Of what, you wonder.
Justin takes out a pack of cigarettes, pounds one out, lights it with a quick flick of a lighter, and blows out a thick stream of smoke. "So you wanna borrow that book back. Cost ya."
"Cost me what?"
"Well, your share of the pizza, for starters."
"I told you, I ate."
"Doesn't matter." He lights a fringe of thread sticking out of a hole in his jeans, and pats it out. Lights it again. Pats it out. "Cost you more than that, though."
"Look, maybe I don't wanna borrow the book," you say, and start to get up.
"Don't you wanna get laid?"
That stops you cold. You look at the three of them, and feel your cheeks pale. "What are you talking about?"
Justin laughs--a hacking sound. "Don't you think I'm sexy, Prescott?" He takes another drag. "Or maybe Small is more your type. Or Tsosie? Whaddaya think, Maize?" He cranes his head back to look at Tsosie, who's perched behind him. "Give Prescott a blow job?"
"Fuck you, man." Tsosie's eyes glitter.
"Look, you guys are high if you think--"
"We ain't high," Roth says. "The night's young, and the pizza's on its way. But I'm just jerkin' your chain. 'Cept about you gettin' laid. That's on the level. Gotta girl in the bedroom. You interested?"
"You don't have a--" you start to say, but the words freeze in your throat. Looking at the three of these guys, here, talking like this ... You have to believe them. "I don't want--"
"You don't wanna get laid? Someone already pop your cherry? Who?"
"If I wanted to get laid--" Your voice comes out in a squeak. "Not like this."
"Oh, you want romance," Roth laughs. "Kind of a tall order, under the circumstances. Would affection be enough?" His eyes crinkle with amusement, and he looks back at Tsosie. "Think you could be an affectionate squaw?"
Maize balls his fists, and even at this distance you can see him tremble. You don't understand why he doesn't punch Roth.
"Okay, I don't want to borrow the book," you say firmly, and now you are on your feet.
"Cost ya not to borrow it, too," Roth says. "But come on. You're curious, Prescott. Admit it."
"I'd like to know what you think you're fucking doing," you say in a trembling voice.
"Then I'll show you."
Justin puts the cigarette in his mouth, and the smoke wraps demonically about his head as he squints at you. From his side he draws out a pack of cards and gives it an expert series of shuffles and bridges. He cuts it and flashes an upturned card at Small. He bites on the cigarette and grins. "Beat a king, asshole."
"I'm not playing against you," Perry snarls.
"Then you automatically lose. It's your turn anyway."
"Fuck." Perry cuts the deck, and groans at the resulting card.
Justin cuts again, and shows Maize the result. "Lucky break, Tsosie. Four beats a three."
Perry gets heavily to his feet and shuffles into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. You're tempted to run, but Roth is right: You're curious. You lick your lips nervously as you wait. "What happens now?"
"He's gone to get the girl. You'll like her. She'll like you." Roth stubs out the cigarette in the carpet. "She fucking better." The stream of smoke he blows out hangs in the air like a shroud.
The pizza comes while you're waiting, but Tsosie just takes it into the kitchen. He stays there, out of sight. Neither you nor Roth speak again, and he doesn't demand any money from you.
Then the bedroom door opens, and a girl comes out. She's big, but in a plush kind of way, and it takes you a moment to place her name. Victoria Rodriguez.
She's wearing nothing but an over-large flannel shirt, but it hangs down far enough to cover her ass and pussy, though not much else. "Hey, Will," she says with a wide smile, and walks over on swinging hips. "Wanna fool around?" She draws up close, and she smells wonderful.  | Members who added to this interactive
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