3. Come With
I sit on my front porch waiting for Seth and Holland to pick me up so we could go to school. My best friends since Pre-K.
I was playing a game on my phone when I smelled burning plastic. I didn't have to look up to know it was Holland. When I do, I wince. The paint-peeled, rusty green truck was hideous and old, but for some reason Holland was in love with it. I'm always telling him to get a better one but he just rolls his eyes and tells me I'm jealous. Yeah... that's it.
I open the passenger side door, it creeks, expecting to see Seth but don't so I just climb in. “Where's Seth?” I ask, as he sped away at 45 mph – ignoring the 25 mph sign.
“He's 'sick' at the cabin with Carter.”
“Hasn't he been up there with her since after school on Friday.”
He nods. “Yep. 3 days just isn't enough for them apparently.”
“Gross.” I turn my phone off and put it in my bag. If I got caught with my phone one more time I'll get it taken for the rest of the year.
“Says the virgin.” he looks at me then back at the slow traffic ahead of us.
“I'm not a virgin, you already know this.”
“Maybe not...” he sits back and takes his hand off the wheel. We always get stuck here for at least 15 minutes. “But you're an innocent goodie-goodie that won't do anything wrong.”
“Wha- I can be bad!”
I clear my throat. “Uh.. o-kay. How?”
“Come to Myles Burner's party with us on Friday.” he gives my a smirk.
My jaw drops. “What? Oh, come on! Holland – that's not even fair!”
He shrugged as he lit a cigarette and blew smoke rigs in my face.
“Seriously. His parties always get out of hand. There is always beer and fighting and the cops end up coming. I can't get caught up in that shit, I actually want to go to college.”
He snickered but his face remains the same. “Lyza, you said you wanted to prove that you can be bad.” he shrugged again. “Well, here's your chance.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Seriously considering is because a little bit of me wanted to go only because I've never been to one. I know the parties get pretty wild and no one knows that better then Kym Cordillera, Myles best friend. She got arrested once when she was walking home from one of his parties because she was caught with pot in her pockets. Myles' pot. But she never said anything. Then again, no one would rat anyone out.
See, you have to understand something about the kids in my school. We're a bunch of low-classes, poor party goers We live in the worst parts of the towns. Most of us steal, deal, lie, cheat, smoke, drink and jump the people who think they are better then us. The only time the police is called is when an upper-class-er calls on Myles' party’s. So we call ourselves 'hoods' because that's where we live – the hood. And the upper-class kids are calls 'Angel's' because they believe they are above us all.
Hoods hate most other hoods not within their own social groups, but you don't dare call on another one. In your group or not, if you call, that's when the switch blades and hand guns come out into play.
“Please.” Holland pleaded with his dark green eyes. “Rachel's going. JD's going. We're all going and you should too.”
I sigh loudly and slowly smile, making him smile even bigger. “Whatever.”
“Does that mean you'll go?” he raises his eye brows at me as the traffic begins again, slowly.
“Yeah, I'll go... but I know you set this conversation up.” I shake my head.
“You know me too well.” he laughs. “But Seth and Carter really are at the cabin.”