100 Sideways Miles by Andrew Smith

anything.
    He said, “Dude. Come downstairs with us and have some fun. But put some clothes on first. I can see your balls.”
    I made him stay in my room with me while I got dressed. There was no way I’d go downstairs by myself and make some kind of pathetic entrance like a freak in a sideshow.
    Step right up! Come see the epileptic boy!
    So I climbed down from bed and pulled on some shorts and a tank top. I slipped my bare feet into a new pair of tennis shoes Dad had given me the week before, and I followed Cade Hernandez out of my room to face my audience.
    My dog waited for me in the hallway.
    When she saw me, Laika curled up into a little ball and watched me with guilty dog eyes.
    â€œYou’re so dumb,” I said. But she squirmed happily when I bent down so I could scratch behind her ears.
    Laika had wild and sudden emotional swings.
    That’s my dog.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    When we got downstairs, Cade announced, “He fell asleep. I had to wake him up.”
    The girls sat on the living room couch. Monica drank a beer and pretended to be checking something important on her cell phone.
    Monica Fassbinder had a permanently distracted look in her eyes, like nothing could possibly happen fast enough for that girl. I wondered if she would have been pleased at forty miles per second.
    And I also wondered if she got text messages in German. I planned to ask her about it one day.
    One of the pizza boxes lay with its lid folded back on our coffee table.
    Maybe it was my own personal hang-up, but I felt like both girls were waiting to see if I would flip out or something.
    â€œI’m okay,” I said.

    I sat down on the floor across from Julia. I couldn’t help but scan the living room to see if it was true that she’d actually cleaned up after me. She caught me looking for it too.
    The floor was completely dry and spotless.
    Why would anyone do something like that?
    I wasn’t even nice to her at all.
    I pursed my lips straight and nodded at her. I would have said thank you, but it was too embarrassing.
    Cade Hernandez opened his can of chewing tobacco and pushed a fresh wad of the stuff down behind his lower lip. Herewas a kid who could actually chew tobacco and drink beer at the same time.
    That was complex modern multitasking for a high school athlete.
    Julia and I ate pizza. Cade offered Julia a beer, but she told him no.
    He started to pass one in my direction, but I raised my hand and shook my head. I couldn’t drink a beer after blanking out. It would kill me.
    Cade and I had gotten drunk together in the past.
    It was fun. Cade had taught me how to do it. The first time we’d gotten drunk together, we were fourteen years old. I passed out at Cade’s house and we missed school the next morning. Dad grounded me and took away my cell phone for two weeks, but he never found out I’d been drinking. I told him Cade and I had been playing video games.
    Imagine that.
    Cade spit into an empty can and said, “We’re going to a party at Blake Grunwald’s house. His parents are in Vegas.”
    I looked at Cade in disbelief.
    â€œBlake invited us to his house?”
    â€œWell, he said we could come as long as we brought girls and beer. We might be out of beer by the time we get there, but at least we have some girls. Blake and his friends . . . you know—they’re total losers. The place is like a fucking locker room—all guys. All ballplayers. Well, there’s some girls, but they’re ugly enough to be guys. But lots of booze, Finn.”
    â€œYou were there?” I asked.
    â€œDelivered pizza.” Cade spit and opened another beer. Thenhe laughed. “You should have seen what me and Monica did to that dickhead’s pizza.”
    I looked at Monica. She had a bored and confused look on her face that said she didn’t really get the stuff we American boys joked about, and why we thought certain things were such