Breakaway by Kat Spears Page B

to him?” Raine asked.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I asked. “Nothing happened to him.”
    â€œWell, you referred to him in the past tense,” she said. “Did he pass away?”
    â€œHe’s just not around,” I said, letting impatience register in my voice.
    â€œOh,” she said with a nod and a look of understanding that made me want to tell her to piss off. “I think I’ll just call you Jason,” she said, her eyes still on me, watching for a reaction.
    â€œSuit yourself,” I said, distracted by four guys who sat in a booth near the back by the jukebox. They were a group of heads, with greasy hair and grungy clothes, two of them in knit caps even though it wasn’t that cold outside. It suddenly occurred to me that I recognized one of them, the set of Mario’s shoulders as familiar to me as my own face. Mario had been spending more and more time around his stoner friends lately.
    â€œHey,” I said as I nudged Jordie’s foot with mine under the table and nodded toward Mario. Jordie looked around and saw who I was pointing to but didn’t show any interest in Mario or his friends.
    â€œI’m going to go say hi,” I said as I started to slide out of the booth.
    â€œWhat if the waitress comes?” Raine asked.
    â€œJust get me a Coke,” I said.
    â€œDon’t you want anything to eat?”
    â€œIt’s a pizza place. I figure we’re ordering a pizza, right?” I asked. “Just get whatever. I don’t care.”
    I walked over to Mario’s table, and the guys he was with all looked up at me expectantly. “Hey, man,” I said to Mario. “Where’s Chick?”
    â€œI don’t know, man,” Mario said with a shrug, his eyes hooded. “It wasn’t my night to watch him, was it?”
    I studied the guys Mario was with more closely. They all looked a little out of it—one of the guys was rocking slightly in his seat, like he had to go to the bathroom and was trying hard to hold it.
    â€œWhat kind of shit are you on?” I asked Mario. We hadn’t spoken about our argument after the last soccer game, had just let it go, but now, somehow, it was still there between us.
    â€œWhat are you? A narc or something?” one of the guys asked me before Mario could respond. The guy was tall and skinny, his blond hair cut close to his scalp, his Adam’s apple prominent in his throat. His eyes were an icy blue, hard and without empathy.
    â€œYeah, man, I’m a narc,” I said. “Figured anyone stupid enough to eat toilet paper wouldn’t be able to tell.”
    Mario laughed and for a second I caught a glimpse of my oldest friend in his expression. “Jaz is just being a dick,” Mario said. “Jaz, this is Travis,” Mario said with a lazy gesture toward the guy with the icy eyes. “Man, Jaz is a friend of mine. He’s not a narc. What are you up to?” Mario asked me.
    â€œNothin’,” I said with a glance back over my shoulder at Jordie and the girls. “Playing wingman for Jordie with his crush.”
    â€œOh shit,” Mario said as he looked back at our table and recognized Cheryl, “he finally got the balls to ask her out, huh?”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “She brought along her friend Raine.”
    â€œI know Raine,” Mario said. “She was my lab partner last year. She’s pretty cool. I should have asked her out.”
    â€œYou’re welcome to her,” I said. “She hates my ass. I’d better get back before Jordie sends out a search party. I’ll see you, man.” I didn’t bother saying good-bye to Mario’s buddies. They didn’t pay me any notice anyway.
    Raine was cold toward me when I returned to the table, didn’t even look at me while we ate. She and Cheryl kept up their own conversation while Jordie shot me pleading looks when the girls weren’t paying