Tap Out (14 page)

“Tone, you coming out?” Amy's smoke curls around her chins. I want to ask just how much she's been eating, but know she'll put the butt out in my eye if I do.

“Where?”

“The game?
Homecoming?
”

Amy doesn't give a fuck about football, just likes the drugs and the fights. Both of which I need to avoid. I know Big O will nab me up at some point, and I can't have one more issue for him to hold against me. That is if I survive the deal. Holy fuck. I can't believe I'm doing this. “That's all right. Thanks.”

“What? You should go.” Rob looks at me and then motions behind Amy's back for me to play along.

“
You're
going?” I ask. “You hate this shit.” This isn't completely true. Rob loves all violent sports, just hates the dicks who play them.

“Nuthin' else to do.”

I kick a stone down the lane and wish my only concern was whether or not to go to the game.

“Come on, Tone. Let's get ripped and start a brawl like last year.” Amy takes a drag and laughs at me. The smoke puffs out her nose.

“I didn't start shit. Remember? I just fell on that kid, tripped because I was too high.”

They laugh. “That was some good bud.” Amy goes dreamy at the memory.

“You see? That's why you need to come back to class.”

Fuck, he's relentless. I already told him I'd think about talking to Coach. But I do owe him. The only reason I survived the fight last year was because of Rob. He rolled me under the bleachers before it hit the fan. Broke some fuck's nose right in front of me. Bet the security tonight will be tight, and I can't afford one more fuck-up. That and I'll need to leave at halftime to be home for Dave. So if I don't go, I'll just be home, waiting. And no doubt Cameron will be tanked, reliving his glory days on the field. Shit. “All right, all right, I'll go.”

They cheer and Amy shakes her ass. “Better be careful with that thing.” Rob laughs, but there's something more than a joke in his look. Amy laughs along and whips her hair, slows her rhythm. Shit, she's gained weight, but she knows how to work it. Fuck, I'm getting wood.

“See you at six?”

Rob keeps his eyes on Amy. “Yeah, I'll get us a ride.”

“We goin' through the fence?” The football field's lights shine in the distance, and Rob scans inside so he can answer my question.

“Looks like they got pigs at each corner, but there's a crew blocking the hole, so we should be able to squeeze.”

“I ain't squeezing through shit.” Amy stops walking.

I keep the joke to myself.

“It's that or we pay.” Rob looks at her, then me.

“I'm all about free. Not like I have any cash.”

“None?” Amy says the word like a curse.

I think,
Not for long
, but walk on, along the side of the
field that bumps up against the woods. The stands are full, and there are packs of kids standing in clumps along them. The pigs will be too busy to notice us. Perfect. I wait for Rob and Amy.

“Looks good,” Rob says.

“Some shit's going down tonight, I can feel it.” Amy steps over a root popping through the ground. Rob follows her, arms out like he's ready to catch her if she falls.

We make it to the fence and spy the slit, the one the Vo-Tec kids made with a set of bolt cutters. If you don't know where it is, you can't even tell it's there. A cop is standing a solid fifty feet away, and a group of seniors is between the fence and him. I squat down, push the chain-link, and slide through. No one even looks up. Rob and Amy do the same, with Rob holding the gate like a door.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Albalene Cougars!” The announcer's voice rips through the air, and everyone looks up. Amy jolts to the side and puts a hand beneath her stomach.

“Fuck that scared me. I almost pissed my pants.”

The opposing team runs onto the field, and our fans' booing drowns out their side's cheers. The team runs along the sideline and then branches off at the yard lines, forming columns for their warm-ups. We move toward the bleachers.

A hardcore-metal guitar riff pierces the air, and our side gets to its feet and cheers. The stomping reverberates, and in the distance, our team is walking from the locker room and moving along the outside of the fence toward the entrance.

Our school loses its shit, pounding the bleachers and each other. The team breaks from the gate and punches through a paper sign that a group of cheerleaders hold. The heavy, hardcore song with a throbbing drumbeat follows their run. They stop on the fifty-yard line, just a few feet
away from the opposing team. Pinpricks form on my arms, and I rub them away.

“Let's go see who's around.” Amy pulls Rob's arm and I follow. He walks tall, shoulders pinned back, hoodie on display. Some kids from the other school are walking through, douche bags obvious in their school's yellow and blue. I watch the pigs eye them and then see Big O, standing at the edge of the stands. I duck to avoid his look.

We settle in with some other park kids and pound fists. Amy slinks off with a couple girls, giggling and whispering into each other's ears. Someone's got a flask, and it's making the rounds. It's Jack and feels good going down. I haven't had Jack in forever. It warms me, and I take another pull before passing it to Rob. He takes it and just hands it off to the kid next to him. I go to ask what's up, but the kickoff rolls and there's no point in bothering. The noise is like a wall.

It dies and the cheerleaders cheer and someone hands me the flask again. I'm feeling good. Loose. I take another drink.

“What's up fuckers?” The voice is unmistakable. My insides draw down, and I swivel to look at him. Dave pops into the center of our crew, pounds fists with Rob, and ignores the hard stares from the rest. He finds me and moves in closer. “There's the little pussy.”

Why the fuck is he here? Can't I get two hours of relief before I have to tangle with him? The Jack mixes with my anger and I don't feel like holding back. “Fuck yourself, Dave.”

Dave cocks his head, looks at Rob and shakes it. “If he weren't your boy, Rob . . .”

“What? What would you do?” My heart's pounding, but I sound calm. I know how to keep my shit together.

Dave levels his stare on me. “I'd make you my bitch, cuz you're used to that.”

My joints stiffen, and kids around us turn. They've heard, but I'm sure they've got my back. It will always be us versus them. The haves and the have-nots. It's not that we want this shit, but it's people like Dave that don't let us out. I stare him down and can't help but think how much he's like Cameron. I don't know how the fuck I didn't see it before. It's like looking into a beefier version, but the eyes are the same: empty. I swallow. “That ain't what your mom said. Fact, just the opposite.”

The park kids laugh and wait for more. Dave's face ignites, and on the field a crushing hit draws cheers from the stands.

“We'll leave moms out of this, since you really don't have one. Burnouts aren't people.”

I forget where I am, who is watching and what will happen. I lunge and get a hand around Dave's throat. He wobbles. All I can see is his face, turning red, and his eyes, not so empty now.

“Tone, no!” Rob rips my hand off Jensen. “Not here.” He twists my wrist and draws my arm up behind my back. Like when we used to play Uncle.

Dave straightens and his eyes dance, but his face stays red, his jaw set. I could have fucking taken him, I know it. I whip my arm out of Rob's grip and turn on him. “The fuck?”

Rob stares me down, just like in Vo-Tec. He's trying to tell me something, I know it, but I'm too pissed or too buzzed to get it.

“The Front,” he whispers.

Fuck. My head spins. Rob's right. What the fuck am I thinking? I turn away from Rob and back to Dave.

Dave's eyes are dancing. “You get permission or does your daddy want you to play nice?” He steps closer to me. “Oh that's right, you don't have a dad, either.”

My entire head is engulfed in flames and my arm
twitches, but I hold it still, swallow and speak. “Don't worry, next time I meet up with your dad, I mean, Charity's dad, I'll be sure to let him know you've been doing your job.”

Dave's face melts to hatred. He looks around to see who's listening. Some kids nod slowly while others cup hands to spell it out. Dave works his tongue along his bottom lip. “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Douche.” He steps closer and whispers. “You watch yourself, Antioch. You have no idea what you're fucking with.”

The slap is fast. Even though only his fingertips catch me, they clip the corner of my eye and make me cry out. One of the pigs turns as I grab my face. When I can see clearly again he's heading our way and Dave's gone.

“What's going on over here?” The cop bellies his way through the crew to me. The crowd roars again and feet stomp the bleachers.

“Nothing. I just had something in my eye.”

The cop cracks out a flashlight and shines it in my face. He sniffs. “You been drinking?”

“No.” I turn and try to blink away the spots in my eyes.

“Liar.” He leans closer, sniffs again. “You've got two choices. Breathalyzer. Or leave.”

Fuck me. I sure as shit won't take a breathalyzer. Who knows what Big O would do? “I'm out.” I take two steps, and Rob grabs my arm.

“Yo, be careful.”

I nod and move on.

“I'm watching you,” the cop says, and then I hear him speak to the rest of the group. “So who else is joining him?”

I jam my hands in my pockets and pull my head into my shoulders, trying to become as small as possible. I can't go back through the fence, not with the pig watching. I have to
pass Big O and all the screaming kids. They light up as we pick an interception. The announcer's voice booms, “Warrior Ball!” Everyone's smiling and the cheerleaders are bouncing and the air is cool. It's perfect. And here I am, busted, pissed off, and tossed out.

Big O turns as I pass, and I pick up the pace and get the hell out.

T
he walk home, like this morning, should take me another hour, but that's fine. Maybe someone will run me down before I get there. Headlights burn up ahead, and I step out of the road. The car doesn't move, though. The headlights blink off and then back on. “Shit.” I know this car.

Dave's Mustang rolls to a stop next to me. Marcus is in the passenger seat. “Get in,” he says.

I hesitate, and for a second consider running. But it's a pussy move that will get me nowhere. Not that this ride may take me much further. But I climb in the back.

We drive for a few miles and no one speaks. I breathe slow, trying to calm my nerves and convince myself that I'm doing the right thing, that it's what I have do to survive. That I don't really have a choice. That I'm not like them. I hope I'm right.

“Glad you made this easy, Tone. That scene back there was fun, too. Nice way of making it seem like we're not on the same team.”

We're not, and I wasn't playing, but telling him that is useless. “Thanks.”

“You see, Marcus, a smart one. Like Rob.”

Marcus grunts and I imagine Rob in my exact position. I wonder how he kept from shitting himself?

“Listen. Here's the plan. We're making two stops. One, to pick up the stash. Two, to sell it. Marcus and me will make the first. You're on your own for the second.”

My heart leaps and twists, and I choke it back down. “
I'm
making the deal?”

“Exactly.” Dave's smile is illuminated by the red dashboard lights.

Last night he said I was just delivering a package. I know there's no point in arguing, though. He'll just have Marcus break me, and then I won't get paid at all. Have to just take it. “But I've never sold anything.”

“Doesn't matter. It ain't that fucking hard to walk through a door with a box and then wait to get paid. It's like delivering a pizza.” Dave pulls off the road and down a street I've never been on. “First stop.” We're at the edge of town, near the old warehouses. There are still a few homes scattered here and there, mostly vacant, all busted. We pull into the driveway of one that is clearly uninhabited, unless broken windows is their thing. Dave turns to Marcus. “You know where, right?”

“Uh huh.” Marcus walks toward the back of the house, and Dave keeps his eyes trained on where he disappears. He either doesn't trust him or the scene, because he's gripping the wheel like he's trying to choke it. His other hand's on the door handle.