We bump fists with Will in a show of respect and I realize why Nick admires him. Will is a tough guy, and who doesn’t love having a tough guy on their side? Knowing Will trusts me enough to bring me in his crew gives a huge boost to my ego. Sitting in his musty dive bar discussing the distribution of an illegal substance suddenly feels less criminal. More like three business partners brainstorming marketing ideas.
After a brief tutorial on disposable cell phones, Will walks us to the car and scans the street before hugging Nick. We get in, and Will leans into the driver’s window to tell Nick to keep it under eighty.
“Yeah, yeah.” Nick smiles, but we both know it isn’t going to happen. Nick’s engine roars to life. He gives it a little gas and watches the gauges. “How much are we selling the thizz for?”
“Give out some freebies to first-timers. When they come back, its twenty a hit.”
Nick whistles at the price tag. “Isn’t that kind of high?”
“Don’t worry, they’ll pay.”
Twenty dollars might fly in the city, but it’s pretty steep for Eureka.
“Thizz.” Nick repeats the strange word. “What the fuck does it mean?”
“Look it up. There’s a whole music scene dedicated to thizz.” Will points at me as I fumble with the radio. I nod and search for the hip-hop station we were listening to earlier. I want to soak up as much of this music as I can before we lose the stations. I turn the volume up on a Kid Rock song and sit back.
“You need to ditch your hillbilly shit and get with the times, boys,” Will says. “You have product to sell!”
The drive home always feels longer. Having a carload of illegal drugs doesn’t make it any easier. It’s taken four hours to drive back from San Francisco, because Nick actually stuck to the speed limit. I know it was hard for him. His muscle car wasn’t built to go sixty-five, and he has a stack of speeding tickets to prove it. Nick never has to worry about things like speeding tickets or money in general. The Marino’s own most of the land in Humboldt County, which is why people kiss Nick’s ass. They think he’s their future landlord. Little do they know Nick has other plans. It doesn’t stop Nick from getting free movie tickets, complimentary haircuts, and sometimes a free oil change, just because his last name is Marino. He’s really gracious about it all. Every time the manager opens a new line for him at the grocery store, or an attendant leaves their booth to pump his gas, he acts shocked at their sudden burst of hospitality. Nick’s one of the most powerful people in town, but he wants to believe he’s just like everyone else. There might be some fucked up psychological explanation for this, but I think it has something to do with losing his parents. His father died when he was two, and Mariann made sure he never knew his mother. Will told Nick that Mariann made his mother, Maria, sign her parental rights over after Nick’s father died in rehab. Will said she saved the money, hoping to get Nick back one day, but that day never came.
Nick pulls in front of my house and I yawn. “Fuck, I’m tired.”
“Yeah, it’s hard work sitting in the passenger seat, Matty.” Nick puts the car in park and comes inside to use the bathroom.
My parents let me have the little apartment that sits beneath our main house. It’s a one-bedroom with its own living room, bathroom, and kitchenette. Nick goes straight to my bathroom and I head upstairs two at a time. I stop on the landing in the hall and listen to make sure nobody is here. When I pass Ashely’s room, her door is ajar. I peek in and see the evening sun spotlighting the pillows on her bed. When she was sick the last time, the worst time, my parents offered to switch rooms with her. That way she’d have her own bathroom and more space for the hospital bed they were going to rent, but Ash refused. She wasn’t about to move to an uncomfortable hospital bed in our parents’ bedroom. It sort of negated the whole point of being sent home to die. She wanted to stay in her room, in her bed, with the afternoon sun shining on her face.
I close her door and head to the bathroom in the hall. Evidence of Ashley’s condition is everywhere. From the industrial-size mouthwash for when she’s puking her dinner, to the stacks of garbage bags and never-ending bottles of medications that cover every available counter space. She’s in some kind of remission now, but I don’t think this stuff will ever be put away. The first time Ashley got better, my mother dumped everything and threw this huge party. Seven months later she was back in the hospital. This time she isn’t being that optimistic. Or maybe she’s superstitious. Either way, we all have to live with the daily reminder that life can really suck.
When I get back to my room, I find Nick on my computer—he’s on Dani’s Myspace page. I swipe the mouse from his hand and click off her page before that Audiodub song has a chance to load. It’s weird enough they like the same band. I don’t want her earning any more points with him.
“What the fuck, Matty?” Nick reaches for the mouse and I pull back.
The shock on Nick’s face finally registers and I snap back to reality. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”
I’ve never challenged him when it comes to girls. I never had to; every girl we meet loves him. The rest of us are just background noise. Dani didn’t seem interested in him yesterday, but what if I’m wrong?
Nick spins the chair around to face me. “Do you like her or something?”
I shove my hands in my pockets and shrug. I know how I feel about Dani, but how I feel doesn’t matter if she likes Nick.
Nick kicks my foot. “If you like her just tell me, dude.”
Nick isn’t trying to stake some claim, like Arnie does whenever we see a group of chicks at a party. So, why can’t I look my best friend in the eye and tell him to back the fuck off? I want to, but I know it’s wrong. If Dani likes Nick, I don’t want him to blow her off because of me. And if he likes her, I can’t compete. All I can do is get to her first.
My job at the cafe was a sympathy offer to get me off of Lucy’s couch. It was one sympathy perk I didn’t mind taking advantage of. It offers a very important element in my life—coffee. I love coffee anything—candy, candles, ice cream, mints. If there was a coffee perfume, I’d wear it.
The bells above the door jingle as I walk into the cafe. The owner of Eureka Coffee, Patty, is at the corner table in deep conversation with Mrs. Montgomery. She doesn’t even look up when I walk past her to the storeroom. The gossip must be good today. Patty is a short, gray-haired woman with two grown children about Lucy’s age. She opened the café when her husband passed away six years ago. She told me she needed a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Lucy thinks it’s a really sad way to look at life, but I get it. It’s sort of how I feel about getting into CAL.
I really like Patty. She is the only person that knows about my parents that hasn’t given me the look. You know that look people give when they feel sorry for you, like it is killing them to even speak to you. I hate that look.
“What the hell are you smiling at?” the heavily perfumed she-devil at the register squeaks when I walk past her.
I only have one gripe about working at Eureka Coffee. Her name is Mary. She’s Patty’s granddaughter, so there isn’t much I can do about her. I think Lucy and Patty hoped we would be friends. A small part of me thought we would be too, but Mary didn’t get the memo. She’s been a bitch to me since the moment I walked through the door because I actually get paid to be here. She works for free as a favor to her grandmother, or so she says. I think she does it to get out of the house. Her parents are super strict. Mary isn’t allowed to date until she turns eighteen. If I had a daughter who looked like Mary, I would keep her locked up too. Mary has a flawless smile and amazing blue eyes. Both compliments of her father, who is the town’s dentist and George Clooney’s long-lost twin. Her mother owns a fancy salon and day spa next door, Lady Luxe, so she always looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. She’s a senior at St. Bernard’s, an all-girl Catholic high school, and today she has decided to work in her uniform. The few boys that come in love it. These little acts of rebellion are what keeps me from totally hating her.