I think I still have a chance. Maybe I’ll stop by the café tomorrow and see if she’s working. Or maybe I’ll just wait until Monday. It isn’t like she’s going anywhere, we don’t graduate for a few months. I still have time.
The girls disappear around the corner just as Nick walks by holding a small bundle in his hand. He pauses in the doorway as I scan the street for black-and-whites; going to jail today would suck. I give Nick a nod, and he makes a beeline to the car. I have to admit, it’s kind of exciting.
“Was’up Matty?” A thick city accent startles me. I turn around as Will Walker emerges from the darkness. He’s wearing baggy black sweat pants, a white and gold Rocawear t-shirt. A cross dangles from a fat gold chain around his neck.
“S’up, Will.” I try to sound a little more street. I hold out my hand for him to shake. Will takes it and pulls me in for a hug. The show of affection worries me.
“So, my nephew says you’re a stand-up guy.” I look back at Nick, who is carefully placing the new inventory in a hidden compartment under the dash. I wonder what the hell he’s told his uncle about me. “Nick needs people he can trust. I’m not there to watch his back, so it’s good he has a close friend like you.” I nod to let him know I’m listening, but I’m unsure what to make of Will’s sudden interest in my friendship with Nick. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. I’ve had his back for more than half my life.
“Nick said you could use some money. Who doesn’t need a little green, right?” He chuckles and slaps my back. “Nick’s business is growing; the boys that stayed with me from the beginning are all ballers now. You know what I’m sayin?” Will’s grip tightens around my shoulders as he escorts me to the bar.
I think I know why Nick brought me on this run today. I clear my throat, hoping my voice doesn’t crack. “I get you, but, um, I’m going to college in the fall.”
“There’s nothing wrong with an education. Shit, even Nick’s gotta go to college, but he said you were down. He’s vouching for you.” His friendly demeanor fades slightly. “I thought you wanted in?” There’s a tinge of annoyance in his voice. What the hell did Nick tell him?
Sweat runs down the side of my head as I contemplate my options. Because of Ashley’s medical bills, my parents can’t afford to send me to college. Since I plan on going to Stanford, by the time I graduate from law school, I’ll have a quarter of a million in student loans. That alone is reason to say yes, but it isn’t my deciding factor. None of that really matters when you’re standing in the arms of a gangster, being offered a job, while your best friend hides drugs in his car. “Yeah, I’m in.”
Nick conveniently reappears just as I agree to Will’s offer.
“Sandy, three shots of Patron.” Will knocks on the bar, prompting the young girl to put down her book and pour the drinks. We pick up our shot glasses, clink them together, and slam the shots. Will takes the bottle from Sandy and suggests we take our celebration to a quieter spot. We sit at a table in the back corner of the bar. Nick holds out his fist to me and I bump it with mine. He’s sporting the goofiest grin I’ve ever seen. I want to be pissed, really I do, but he knows how badly I want to go to Stanford. He’s just looking out for me. I can’t get mad about that.
Will leans back in his chair and looks at Nick. “How’s school?” I think it’s kind of strange that he cares about his nephew’s grades, considering he is grooming him for a life of crime.
“It’s all good.” Nick leans back in his chair, mimicking Will.
“Do you know where you’re going to college yet?” Will leans towards the table and looks from me to Nick. “I don’t know how this shit works. Do they send you a letter or something?”
Nick fiddles with his empty glass, unable to look Will in the eye. I don’t know why he looks so nervous. He has legacy status at Stanford. His family has a fucking wing named after them. He’s pretty much guaranteed admission. “I haven’t applied yet.”
I choke a little on my spit when Nick says he didn’t apply. We’ve been planning on going to Stanford together since our freshman year in high school. Nick finally looks at me with an apologetic smile and I pour myself another shot.
“Hey, I’m just looking out for you. You know you gotta go to college.” Will reaches across the small table and playfully grabs Nick’s neck. “You hear me boy?” He laughs as his knuckles scrape Nick’s scalp.
“Alright!” Nick shouts in defeat. “It’ll get Mariann off my back too.” He looks at me. “Don’t worry, dude. We’re gonna run shit down there.” Nick holds out his fist and I bump it. I’ve never even considered going to Stanford without him. I assumed we would live together, which would save me money on housing. If Nick doesn’t go to Stanford, I’m fucked. Maybe that’s why he’s bringing me into his crew; he knows I’ll need the money. It isn’t just about the housing, I’ve never gone to school without him. We’ve always been there for each other, no matter what.
“How is granny?” Will couldn’t sound more sarcastic if he tried.
“She stays out of my way and I don’t embarrass the family name.” Nick hates talking about his grandmother. He moved into a cottage in the back of their estate and rarely sees her. It’s kind of sad since he’s her only grandchild. He’s the only family she has left.
Will’s sister, Maria, was Nick’s mother. Nick met Will at his mother’s funeral when Nick was thirteen. Will and Mariann have been fighting for Nick’s loyalty ever since. “You’re too serious, Nicky.” Will pours another round of shots. “I got something that’ll put a smile on your face.” He pulls a plastic bag from inside his jacket pocket. “You knuckleheads ever heard of thizz?”
Nick looks at me as if I would know something he didn’t. Will tosses the bag at Nick and smiles. The bag is full of small blue pills. “What is it, black market Viagra?” Nick laughs.
“It’s ecstasy, and it’s going to make us a lot of money.” Will takes his shot and nods for us to do the same. The lukewarm alcohol is hard to swallow, but I force it down in one quick gulp. “The kids in the bay call it thizz. But it ain’t just the kids taking it. Some of my biggest clients are in their forties. It’s cheaper than coke and it lasts all night. And the chicks, oh man, the chicks will do anything you want!” Will grins. “Just wait until those little girlies up north to get a hit. They’ll be all over you and each other.” Nick and I high five at the possibilities, then I immediately think of Dani. She’s the only girl I want all over me.
Will takes a pill out of the bag. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger and says, “One hundred percent pure MDMA is a rare commodity. Most of the small-timers are cutting it up, mixing it with caffeine or speed. But that’s not what I’m about. My shit is the Mercedes of MDMA.” He puts the pill back in the bag and tells us thizz is a top priority since the market is still open in most of Northern California.
“What about the cops?” I ask, then regret it immediately for sounding like a pussy.
“Are they giving you any heat?” Nick adds, making my question sound less pathetic.
“From what I’ve seen, it isn’t on anyone’s radar.” Will takes another shot of tequila. He doesn’t even wince. “Unless you count Devon’s bust.” He mumbles some curse words under his breath. “Remember that punk I used to run with, Devon Brown? Yeah, he had the right idea, dealing it to the yuppies. He was doing alright, until he got popped. Fucking idiot.”
Nick and I agree that this Devon guy is a loser while we each take another shot. My head is fuzzy from the tequila, but the last shot goes down like water.
“If Devon didn’t dodge that third strike, he would’ve been in San Quentin for life, and I’d own this half of the city.” Will flips his glass onto the table. It echoes through the bar. “You gotta be smart and you gotta have smart people around you.” Will points at me and then at Nick. “Devon is still selling dime bags on street corners. He’ll never leave the hood now. He’s too scared. That’s why we parted ways. I wanted more. I branched out to other businesses, like this bar. I’m diversifying!” Will opens his arms and looks around the dirty bar like it’s something to be proud of. “Shit, I’m about to be the next Tony Montana, fuckin Scarface.” Will sits back and pops his collar. “You feel me?”