September 25: Riley

　

Riley

“Wake up!” Something hits me hard on my shoulder. It feels like one of Art’s work boots. I ignore the pain and keep the blanket over my head.
A few minutes later, my mom puts her hand right on the throbbing spot. She puts her face close to mine and whispers through the blanket.
“Riley, please wake up.” She rubs my shoulder. “Wake up before he gets mad.” 
“I’m up,” I whisper back.
She stands there with her hand on my shoulder for a few more seconds, then leaves. She probably took the boot with her.
I pull the covers off a few minutes later and get out of bed. The clock reads seven-thirty. I run my hands through my hair and stretch. I’m going to be late.
Fuck the first day of school.
While I’m in the shower, I hear Art yelling at my mom. I hurry up and get out and dry off. By the time I’m out of the bathroom, Art is already gone to work. My mom is sitting at the table in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in front of her. She’s staring out the window.
“You alright, Ma?”
“Yeah. I’m alright,” she insists. She continues to stare. “Go get yourself ready for school.”
She’s a zombie, a walking dead person. She has no emotion, no life. I hate this person she has become. I hate the person he has made her.
I go into my room and pull on a pair of old, black jeans and a white v-neck shirt. I put on my dad’s leather jacket and my converses. I comb my hair and splash on some cologne. When I look at myself in the mirror, I know I look good. At least everyone else will think I do.
I’m hot by today’s standards. My eyes are big and brown. I think they make me look like a baby, but apparently girls dig that. My teeth are pretty white and I’ve got good hair. I get that from my dad. I guess I’ve got a pretty decent body, but that’s only because I do pushups and box. So I can kick the shit out of my step-dad one day.
“Whatever,” I mumble and laugh at myself. I look at the bottle of pills on my dresser and consider taking one. There’s no point in it; they haven’t helped my mood swings in three years. Bipolar disorder my ass.
Everything is an emotional low when you live here.
I grab my wallet and keys and close the door behind me. My mom is still sitting in the kitchen when I get out there. She’s still staring out the window. I touch her coffee mug; it’s cold.
“Ma, are you sure you’re okay?” I pour a glass of orange juice and chug it.
“I’m fine,” she insists. “I’ll be just fine.” She taps her fingernails on the table and sighs.
“I’m going to school now.” I kiss her on the cheek.
“Did you take your medicine this morning?” She finally looks at me.
“Yeah,” I lie. I consider asking her if she took hers, but I don’t. “I’ll see you this evening.”
“He really does love us, you know.”
I stop in the doorway and turn to her. Her eyes are a little watery, but her breathing is steady.
“I know,” I lie again. I swear she’s going insane in this house.
Outside, the air is cool. I take in a big breath of it and smell car oil and trash. That’s the smell of summertime coming to an end. I pick up a rag from the garage and run it over my motorcycle.
The bike, my baby, is the only thing I care about. It’s an old Harley-Davidson that I fixed up myself at my uncle’s shop where I’ve been working since I was thirteen. Her name is Scarlet, and she’s the only thing I’ve got.
I get on her and rev her up. She purrs like a big cat and I’m instantly gratified. I know my mom is watching me from the window, so I put my helmet on. She doesn’t really like me riding a motorcycle to school, but I do it anyway.
I speed out of the parking lot. Scarlet glides over the streets, and I feel like I’m flying. What was once a slight breeze is now full force wind hitting me from all angles. It feels good. I already know I’m going to be late for my first period, so I don’t waste the time in going. I’m in no hurry to get to school anyway.
I park my bike a few minutes later at the prison. My dad’s been there for six years now. Drugs. Always drugs.
Only the last time, he was innocent. He’d been clean for over a year, because my mom threatened to take me away if he didn’t stop using. So he stopped cold turkey. Then one night, he got arrested outside of a bar. He says he was innocent; I believe him.
Mom used to bring me to visit him. But when she married Arthur, he made her stop. And since I’m not eighteen yet, I can’t go in there alone. I haven’t seen my dad in four years. I hope he knows I still love him.
I sit on my bike and smoke a cigarette in the parking lot. Maybe I could just go in there. I pass for eighteen at the gas station where I buy cigarettes. But it’s a lot easier to fool an old Arab guy than a prison guard.
I smoke two more cigarettes and reluctantly start the drive to school. When I get to Five Points, I immediately regret even coming. I hate this place and everything about it: the ugly cinderblock walls, the people, the evil teachers, the cramped classrooms, the way they strip you of all your rights when you walk in the front doors.
High school is my prison.
I park my motorcycle at the back of the lot and walk slowly inside the school. I have to get my schedule card from the front desk, and I know Jean is going to give me that look.
“Hey, Jean,” I flash a smile and lean on her desk.
She looks up at me and shakes her head. “Late on the first day, Mister Sutton?”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t get my bike to start this morning.”
“You shouldn’t be driving one of those things in the first place.” She types my name into the computer. “They are very dangerous, you know.”
“I know,” I insist. “But what’s the fun in life if there’s not a little bit of danger to keep things interesting? I’m sure you took plenty of risks when you were my age.” I smile.
She blushes and I know I’ve got her. “Maybe a few,” she admits. “But you’re a senior this year. You’ve got to really push yourself if you want to graduate on time.”
“I know,” I assure her. “I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.”
She prints a copy of my schedule and hands it to me. “I’ll email Mister Briggs and let him know why you didn’t make it to English. You’ve got about six minutes until the bell rings. You better make it to statistics.”
“Yes ma’am.” I put my hand over my heart and smile. “Have a good day, Jean.”
I go out into the lobby. It is empty, for now. But as soon as the bell rings, it will be full of kids standing around on break. I go to the wall where I usually hang out during break. I look at my schedule. Since I missed English, my first class of the day is Statistics. Then I have Psychology, lunch, and Woodshop. The schedule seems pretty easy. I know I need to do pretty well if I want to make sure I get out of this place in the spring.
The bell rings a few minutes later and I lean against the wall. I know Evelyn is probably wondering where the hell I am. She is not my girlfriend, although I’m sure she’d like to be. Maybe one day we’ll become official. But for now, she is something that keeps my mind off of things and looks good next to me.
The lobby is almost instantly full of kids. The black people and Latinos fill up most of the back lobby. A few freshmen wander around aimlessly. I don’t offer to help them. The preps make their way to their lobby, and I stand and watch them all.
A few seconds later, Evelyn is next to me. She’s wearing a really short skirt and sheer, black leggings. Her shirt is showing way too much and her makeup is thick. She looks like a slut; I guess because she is the school slut. If she’d take off some of that make up and cover herself up, I might consider making her my girl.
“Hey,” I say once she’s next to me.
She puts her arms around me and kisses me. I wasn’t expecting that. She’s a good kisser and I have to force myself to push her away.
“Relax,” I mutter.
She looks up at me with her pretty brown eyes. “I just missed you, that’s all.”
She wants me to tell her I missed her too. But I don’t know for sure if I did. I just saw her last week. Girls are so dramatic.
“I know.” I nod.
I know what’s going through her head. She thinks I’m being mean, distant. She thinks that I’m only using her for sex. She doesn’t know that I hold back because I know what girls do when you give them your heart. Girls lie. They hurt you.
“How was your first period?” she asks.
I shrug.“I didn’t go.”
“You missed your first class of senior year?” Her voice does that annoying high-pitched girl thing. “That’s not a very good idea.”
“What are you, my mother now?” I grumble. I put my hand around her wrist and squeeze it a little bit. “I just didn’t feel like going.”
“Okay, Riley.” She pulls her arm away and instantly I’m sorry.
I put my arm around her waist and pull her in close to me. I take a lot of stuff out on her, and I feel bad for it. I don’t know why she sticks around.
“I’m sorry, girl. I just hate this place, you know? I hate this fucking school.”
“Me too.” She nods. I know she hates school just as much as I do.“That’s why we’ve got to stick together. You’re all I’ve got in this place.”
“I know,” I assure her.
She leans up to kiss me again, but I barely notice. Something catches my eye. I see a girl sitting on the bench outside of the principal’s office. I’ve never seen her before, but I can’t stop staring at her. She has the reddest hair I’ve ever seen. It’s so red I don’t think it can be real. She’s tiny, with glasses that are too big for her face. She’s looking down at the ground. I don’t know why, but I cannot stop staring at her.
The bell rings and Evelyn grabs my hand, snapping me out of my daze. “Walk me to class,” she insists.
“I can’t.” I force myself to stop looking at the tiny redhead. “I’ve got to get to my class. It’s nowhere near yours.” I don’t even know where her class is, but I don’t worry about it. I can’t do boyfriend-type things with Evelyn and give her the wrong idea.
“Whatever.” She pulls her hand away and storms off. I’ll deal with her later. I head off to statistics and try to get the red out of my mind.
Math is one of the few subjects I’m good at. I try to stay awake in Statistics. A few seats away from me, two girls are passing notes. Every few minutes they look up at me and giggle. I ignore them just like I ignore the other girls staring at me. I get that I’m hot, and I admit that the attention used to be nice. But these girls steal my face every day, and sometimes I’d like to keep it to myself.
When the bell rings, I hurry out of the classroom.
“Hey Riley,” says Haley, my Monday girl from last year.
“What’s up?” I mumble and keep walking.
“Riley,” someone says from behind me and runs their hand down my back. I turn around. It’s Liz, my Friday girl.
“Hey Liz.” I smile at her and keep walking.
“How was your summer?” She takes long, quick strides to try to keep up with me.
“Good.”
“That’s good.” She puts her hand on my arm. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I lost all of my contacts,” I say smoothly. World’s greatest excuse. “I’m sorry, girl.”
“It’s cool.” She shrugs. “Maybe we can get together sometime this week and catch up.” She squeezes my arm.
I look at her for a second. She’s wearing way too much makeup, and her fake tan is ridiculous. I can’t believe I was actually interested in that a few months ago.
“Yeah, maybe.” I pull away from her and start to walk away. “I’ll see you around.”
I go around to the back of the building where the cafeteria is and light a cigarette. Nobody is back here, thank God. I take slow drags from the cigarette and let my mind settle.
Two more class periods and I’m out of here. The late bell rings and I ignore it. I’ll go to class when I feel like it. I smoke the rest of the cigarette slowly and toss it in the grass.
My third period is Psychology. I know it will be easy, but I’m still not excited to sit in the classroom for ninety minutes. Mrs. Parker is a little old lady that never assigns homework and sometimes has cookies.
But when I walk in the classroom, Mrs. Parker isn’t in front of the class. It’s some twink with a sweater vest and glasses. I stand in the doorway for a second and make sure he notices me.
“Oh,” The twink picks up the roster.“You must be…”
“Sutton,” I interrupt him.“Riley Sutton.”
A couple of people laugh. All of the girls are staring at me.
“Okay, great.” He puts a check next to my name. “Could you try to be on time for class tomorrow, Riley?”He smiles wide with his expensive-looking teeth.
“Sure thing,” I mumble. I look around the room and see a seat in the back, right next to Samantha West. I smile a little and sit at the empty desk. Disappointment is written all over her face.
“Looking good, West,” I say to her and laugh quietly. I love messing with rich peoples’ heads.
“You smell like cigarettes,” she says spitefully.
I smile.“Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t need a smoke break to keep yourself sane in this place.”
She doesn‘t look at me.“I’m doing just fine in this place, thank you. Maybe if you’d come to class, you would be doing fine too.”
“I’m here aren’t I?” I shrug. I stare at her, but she doesn’t look back.
“For now,” she says. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“I’ll be here every day,” I insist. “I’ve got something to look forward to now.”
I can tell she‘s getting antsy. She wants to look at me.“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell Anderson that you talked to me.” She stiffens when I mention her boyfriend. “It’ll be our little secret.”
“Shut up,” she whispers.
She doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I. I stare at the twink at the front of the room and wait for the bell to ring. When it does, I follow closely behind Samantha. Her hair is too blonde and her shirt is too pink, but her ass looks good in those tight jeans. And I know I’m making her crazy.
“Stop it, Riley,” she says without turning around.
“What am I doing?” I play innocent.
She stops and turns around quickly.“Just leave me alone. And tomorrow, don’t sit beside me.”
Before I can say anything, Evelyn is behind her.“Why are you talking to her?” She crosses her arms and stares hard at me.
“We weren’t talking.” Samantha speaks before I can. “I’m leaving now.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Evelyn doesn’t take her eyes off of Sam.
“You can have him.” Sam insists. “I have a boyfriend. You know, the one who you thought you could steal from me by sleeping with him when he was drunk.” I have to admit, the girl’s got fire. But so does Evelyn.
She laughs a little bit. “He wasn’t that drunk,” She says. “And besides,” Evelyn gets right in Sam‘s face. “Drunk or not, he knows I was better than you’ll ever be.”
I’ve had enough girl drama for one day, so I take ahold of Evelyn’s arm and pull her away from Sam.
 “Ladies.” I put my arm around her waist and we walk down the hall. Her skin is hot and I can tell she is pissed.
 I cool Evelyn down with my smooth talk, but I won't deny that I would pay money to see those two go at it. I'm sure there will be another time.

When we get to the cafeteria, I’m immediately uncomfortable. I hate this place. It’s a bunch of wannabes and posers trying to fit their labels.
“What are you going to eat?” I turn to Evelyn.
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure? It’s the first day. You may want to take advantage of the good food while it lasts.” I look her up and down; she’s way too skinny.
“No,” she insists. “I’m fine.”
“Alright,” I sigh. “I’m going to get a chicken sandwich.” I leave her standing there and jump in line behind a few freshmen. I can tell they are freshmen; you can smell it on them.
I pass them and grab a chicken sandwich and a baked potato. They look at me for a second and I stare back. Neither of them say anything, just like I knew they wouldn’t.
I pay for my food and find Evelyn. She’s waiting just where I left her. She looks upset about something, but I don’t really want to hear about what I’ve done wrong this time so I don’t ask.
“Come on.” She follows me to the back of the cafeteria, past the rich assholes, the band nerds and the drama queers, and the black people.
She puts her arm around my waist and I tense up a little. “You’re killing me with the PDA.”
“I’m sorry,” she sneers and pulls her hand away. I know I’m pissing her off but I also know I’m all she’s got. Likewise.
We sit at a table in the corner and I scarf down my sandwich. I want to have time to smoke at least two cigarettes. Being in this room is driving my anxiety up. We don’t talk. She sits there and fidgets with her fingernails and I eat.
When I’m done, I chug my orange juice and wipe my face. “I’m going to go smoke a cigarette.”
“Okay.” she hops up. “I’m going to go freshen up.”
I thought for sure she would ask to come with me, and I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed that she didn’t. Oh well.
“Cool. I’ll see you in woodshop.” I dump my trash and leave the cafeteria through the back. My spot is empty again, and I’m lucky no one has found it yet.
I light a Camel and smoke it slowly. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes, trying to calculate the days until graduation. If I graduate.
I light another cigarette. I hear someone kicking rocks a few feet away. Three guys come up and stand next to me. I guess someone found my spot. I recognize one of them as Crash, some wise guy.
“What’s up, man?” One of the guys pulls out a cigarette and smiles.
“Nothing much,” I stare ahead and take a drag off of my cigarette.
“I’m sick of this place already,” says the guy. He smokes Camels too. The other guy is smoking a Marlboro.
“You and me both,” I agree.
“Just a hundred and seventy-nine more days,” says Crash.“Piece of cake.” They all laugh. I don’t.
The bell rings and I take the last hit off of my cigarette and put it out. “See you around,” I say to them. 

Woodshop is the only class I am actually excited about going to. The woodshop room is my safe haven at school. When I’m doing something with my hands, it keeps my mind off of all of the other pointless shit.
I get to class early and find a seat near the front. Mike is standing around talking to all of the regulars and I join in on their conversation. For the first time today, I feel at peace. The smell of chipped wood and machine oil puts me at ease.
The bell rings and Mike gets started, just as enthusiastic as he was in June. I can tell he’s glad to be back. That makes one of us. I look around; Evelyn still isn’t here, but I know plenty of people in the class. I see Brian Phillips sitting a few seats away and imagine myself punching him in his jaw. His dad put my dad away this last time. Not his fault, I know. But somebody’s gotta pay. Just like my dad did.
“Well, it’s about that time.” Mike’s voice brings me back to reality. “So let’s get started. I am Mister Henley. You can call me Mike. I’m your teacher, yes. But I’m really just here to make sure nobody loses a finger.” We all laugh and I zone out a little bit; I’ve heard these introductions before.
Finally I hear Mike say my name. “You will be working with Riley Sutton for the remainder of the semester. You two will start at station six.”
I stand up and look to the back, where Mike is looking. My partner is the only other girl in the class; Audrey Oliver. She’s the redhead that I couldn’t take my eyes off of earlier. Her hair is just as red as it was before, and she looks just as awkward as she did before too.
Her cheeks turn pink when she sees me, and my heart stops for a second. I don’t know who this girl is, but I force myself to walk over there and find out.
“You coming?” I ask cooly.
She doesn’t say anything, simply nods. I’m not completely shocked by that, but it makes me smile. She follows me to our station and we sit down on the hard stools.
“So, let me guess.” I smile at her. “You are the advanced student and I’m the beginner.”
She laughs a little bit and both of us relax.
“I think it’s the other way around.” Her voice is soft, but strong. She’s smart, I can tell.
I laugh too.“You’re probably right. I’ve been taking these classes since freshman year. They’re the only ones I’m good at,” I say honestly.
“Cool.” She finally looks up at me. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m kind of scared.”
“Don’t be,” I assure her. “I’ll make sure we get an A.”
She smiles and looks down at the work table. She is wearing a red sweater. Her makeup is barely there, a pleasant difference from Evelyn’s. Her face is different. She has high cheekbones and perfect blue eyes that are shaped like almonds. Everything about her is small, except for those eyes. They scream at me.
Mike goes over all of the rules and safety regulations, but I don’t pay attention. I try not to stare at her, fearing it will make her even more nervous than she already is. She messes with the buttons on her sweater.
I see Evelyn at her station with some kid I’ve never seen before. He’s skinny with blonde hair. She’s looking at him funny, and I don’t know if I like that very much.
“Go ahead and discuss with your partners when you can get together outside of class to work on your projects.” Mike finally finishes his lecture and the class shuffles around.
I turn to Audrey. “So, when is a good time for you to work on stuff?”
She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I’m not sure. I’m pretty busy.”
Busy with what?
“Okay." That's all that I can come up with.
We sit there until the bell rings. That is the first time I couldn’t think of something to say to a girl. When the bell rings, I pick up my book bag and smile at her.
“See you around, Audrey.”
“Bye,” she says softly.
Evelyn comes up to our station in a huff. She walks past me and bumps into Audrey.
“Watch it, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes.” She stares hard at Audrey.
“I’m sorry.” Audrey struggles for words.
“Yeah,” Evelyn agrees. “You are. Nice sweater.”
“Thanks,” Audrey mutters and walks past us with her head down.
Evelyn is such a bully. If anyone knows what it’s like to have people hate them, it should be her. I shake my head and sigh.
“What?” she asks innocently.
“You need to relax,” I inisist. “You are getting way too jealous.”
“Jealous of who? Bloody Mary?” She laughs loudly. “Yeah, right.”
“She’s cool.” I know that will piss her off.
“Oh, really?” She pushes me. “Yeah, she seemed really cool with the way you were staring at her.”
“Look who’s talking?” I raise my voice. We are out in the parking lot now. “Every time I looked at you, you were lost in old boy’s baby blues. And I saw you writing in his notebook. What, were you giving him your hours?” My face gets red and I can tell she’s hurt.
“Fuck you!” she yells. People turn and stare at us. She pushes me again, harder this time, and I instantly feel bad.
“Wait, wait, wait.” I pull gently on her arm and she turns around.“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I was just pissed because you disappeared after lunch and I didn’t know where you were. Why were you late to class?”
She seems pleased that I apologized. “Girl stuff,” she says.
I don‘t say anything else about it. Girls and their ‘stuff.’
“Do you want to come over to my place?” she asks slyly.“Nobody’s home.”
“What about your step-brother?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t call him that. And he’s riding the bus; he won’t be home for a while.”
“Okay, sure.” I shrug. “I’ve got work at five, though.”
“Can you give me a ride on your bike?” She smiles.
“I don’t know about that.” I never take girls on my bike.
“Come on, Riley.” She slides her arms around me and puts her hands in my back pockets. “Please?”
“Fine.“ Sometimes the only way to get a girl to shut up is to give her what she wants. That way I get what I want, too.
We get on my bike and I give her my helmet. When I start it up, people look at us. I zip through the parking lot, smiling, all eyes on me.
I’ve only been to her house a few times, but I know the way. When we get there, the house is quiet. Her place is a little smaller than mine, but it’s cleaner. We go straight down the hall to her room. 
Sex with Evelyn is always amazing. The girl never disappoints and today is no different. Afterwards, she tries to cuddle, but that’s not my style. So we lay there, naked. I don’t say anything; I don’t like to talk right after sex.
Finally, I‘m cooled down. “That was a good way to end the first day of school,” I say and laugh.
“Agreed,” she says and sits up. “I should get back soon so I can get my car.”
I look at the clock. It‘s almost four. “Yeah. I should get to the shop.”
I get dressed quickly and she follows me outside. Her freshman step-brother is rubbing my bike.
“Hey kid.” I hurry down the steps. “Keep your hands off my bike.”
“Sorry,” he says softly. “She’s just beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Evelyn says sarcastically. “Now get lost, freshman.”
He rolls his eyes. “Do you have to call me ‘freshman’ when we’re not at school?”
“Shut the fuck up and get in the house. You’re giving me a headache.” Evelyn really can be a bitch sometimes.
I put my hand on her shoulder and she breathes out. “Leave the poor kid alone.” I look at the kid. “I’m Riley, by the way.”
He shakes my hand. “Hey, I’m-”
“Not important,“ Evelyn exclaims. “We have to go, Riley. I gotta get my car before they close the gates.”
She pushes me towards my bike and I give up. “See ya around, kid.” I give him a sympathetic look, and I know he understands.
We ride to school and she squeezes my waist. The wind feels good against my face and her hair whips around my neck. When we get to school, she hops off the bike and hands me my helmet. Her hair is all crazy in dark waves around her face and in this moment, she looks so beautiful.
I pull on some of her hair. “You should be nicer to that kid. You know he’s probably having a shitty time right now.”
“Whatever,” she says. “I’ll try.” And I know she won’t.
“There you go.” I pretend that I believe her and give her a kiss. “What are you going to do?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably go for a drive. Stay out of the house as long as I possibly can.”
“Okay. Be safe.” I give her another kiss, suddenly feeling in a good mood. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She gets in her car and we both pull out of the empty lot. She goes right, I go left. I’ve got a little bit of time before I have to be at my uncle’s car shop, so I ride around town with my helmet off. I remember that I am almost out of cigarettes and pull over at a gas station to get more.
I park at the side of the store. Around front, a few Hispanic guys are standing outside. They are leaned against the ice machine, trying to look bad ass. I recognize them from Five Points. One of them is Malachi; I don’t know who the other two are. I wonder what they are doing out without their leader, Manny.
I go inside the cold store and my question is answered. Manny is walking around at the back of the store, looking at batteries. I see him pick up a pack and slip them in his back pocket. I look up front; the store clerk is completely oblivious.
Manny stares hard at me, as if daring me to say something. I shake my head and grab a soda from the cooler. When I get up to the counter, Manny has left. “Can I get a pack of Camel Menthols, please?” I pull out my wallet, and he doesn’t card me. They never do.
I pay for my stuff and when I go outside, Manny and his boys are still out there. I look him up and down once and keep walking.
“You got a problem?” He takes a few steps towards me. He hates me for whatever reason; always has.
“If I had one, you would know it.” Unlike most people at school, I’m not afraid of these guys. They carry weapons because they don’t know how to fight. I do.
“Oh, tough guy, huh?” Manny smiles. “You think you’re a badass with your cigarettes and that leather jacket?”
They always bring up the leather jacket, like it’s some big deal. I don’t think I’m a badass; other people do. I don’t wear this jacket because it’s good for my ‘image.’ It was my dad’s. It still smells like him.
“Whatever, dude.” I shake my head. These guys aren’t worth my time. I walk away and he keeps talking.
“That’s right,” he says angrily. “Keep walking.”
I get on my bike and start it up. I put on my helmet and ride around to the front of the store. I rev the bike up and push on the gas. I whiz past them, so close and so fast that a couple of them fall backwards. I’m sure I’ll pay for that later, but for now, I just smile and enjoy winning.

My uncle’s shop is a little garage on the corner of Evans Street. It’s not the nicest place, but all of the locals know that Uncle Eddie is the best mechanic in town. And he’s teaching me everything he knows.
I park my bike in the back by a window where I can keep an eye on it. Eddie is in the garage, his head buried deep in the front of an old Honda.
“I’m here, boss.” I punch in my time card and pull my blue jumper over my clothes. It smells like grease and sweat, and I am immediately at peace.
“What’s up, Spinner?” Eddie pops his head up from the engine. He’s been calling me that since I was little.
“Not much, man.”
“How was school?” He asks while he patches up some wires.
“It was the shits,” I state. “Just like always.”
Eddie laughs and so do I. He’s my dad’s brother. He’s got a bald spot at the top of his head and a big smile on his fat face. Everybody loves Eddie around here.
“Well stick with it, son. Just a little bit longer.”
“I know,” I assure him. “What have we got?”
He wipes his hands off and heads to the back of the garage. “We’ve got this old Dodge back here with a couple of leaks. One of the Sheriff’s deputies brought it in, so I told him we’d have it done tonight. I figured you could take care of that in no time.”
“Yeah, of course.” I grab my tool box and slide under the truck to get right to work.
We listen to heavy metal while we work. We don’t talk much, but I work quickly and have the truck ready in an hour. I help Eddie out with some of the other cars and deal with a few customers that come in.
About an hour before close, a girl walks in with a confused look on her face. Most of the girls who come in here have that same look. She looks really young and I wipe off my hands and head up to the front to help her.
“Can I help you?” When I get closer, I realize that I know who she is. It’s Janey Boyd, a girl from school.
She recognizes me too, and instantly gets awkward. We had a thing last year, just one time.We didn't exactly end on good terms, although she was a good time for a virgin. I had heard she was crazy, some sort of a cutter. But I ignored that when my friend Cordelia introduced us. I was high, she was high, and things happened. A few months later, she claimed she was pregnant. She wasn't the first freshman to pull that one. Crazy is an understatement. That was the last time I ever hook up with a freshman. Now, her hair is dark and she has on a lot of dark makeup. Her clothes are weird. I wouldn’t look at her twice these days.
“Uh, I just came to get my dad’s truck.” She looks down at the floor. “He brought it by earlier.”
“Oh, the dodge.” I take the keys off the hook and hand them to her. “I fixed up your leaks and made a few tweaks on the engine. Everything should be as good as new now.”
“Okay,” she mumbles.
What a weirdo. She takes the keys and pulls out of the garage slowly.
“If you have any other problems, tell your dad not to hesitate to call us.”
She doesn’t say anything else and neither do I. Eddie and I close up shop and he locks everything down.
“You want to go to Tony’s and get a sub?” Eddie points to the sub shop right across the street.
I realize that I’m starving and I’m sure whatever Mom is making isn’t as good as one of Tony’s subs.
“Let’s go,” I say.
We eat big meatball subs and I tell him about school. He talks about my cousins and his wife, my Aunt Trish. We’re silent for a lot of the time; I never talk much. After washing everything down with rootbeer floats, we head back to the shop where we say our goodbyes.
“Take care, kid.” Eddie pats my back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s dark now, and I take the long way home. A few stars peek through the sky, and I ride without my helmet. When I get home, Mom is in her chair watching Wheel of Fortune. I wonder how long she’s been sitting there. Art is in the kitchen getting himself a beer. I wonder what number that is.
“Where the hell have you been?” He growls at me. The way his words are slurring I’d say it’s at least number nine.
“Work,” I say plainly. As if he doesn’t know that.
He chugs half of the beer and walks past me. I can smell it on him. He goes into the living room and I hear him yell at my mom.
“Turn this shit off. You watch these game shows all damn day.”
I walk into the room quickly and see him changing the channel. My mom rests her head on her hand and doesn’t say anything.
“Ma, you can watch it on my TV.” I smile at her, but she doesn’t look up.
“It’s alright, Sweetheart.”
“You can watch it if you want to,” I assure her. “Don’t let him tell you what you can watch and when you can watch it.”
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Art turns around and looks at me.
“My mother,” I stare back at him.
“You better watch your tone, boy.” He gets close to my face and I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Or what?”
I stare hard at him, daring him to touch me. But he would never do that. Because he knows that I could kill him. It’s because of him that I am the way I am.
I turn away from him and go downstairs to the basement. I turn the radio to a heavy metal station and put on my boxing gloves. Then I have my way with the old, worn punching back hanging from the low ceiling.
I hit the bag hard, over and over again. When I can’t breathe anymore, I stop and sit down on the cold cement floor. I turn the music down and close my eyes. I stay down there until I know that Art is passed out. Then I creep upstairs, strip my clothes off, and fall into bed.
I think about Evelyn a little bit. I think about Audrey a lot. I think about those idiot Puerto Ricans. I think about how much I hate school. I think about Art, and how much I want him dead. I think about all of the negative things. And I hope for something positive, something good. You play the bad guy for so long, eventually you start to wonder if there’s any good in you at all. And then I wonder…


Does good even exist?