… I hear a sound outside the bathroom door.

Damn. Back to reality. The door handle is turning.

Justin busts in and falls over laughing.

“Jesus, Justin, you heard of knocking?” I reach for a towel and wrap it around my waist.

“Where were you just now, a strip club?”

“Screw you. Get out of here so I can shower.”

He stands there looking at my waist, then starts laughing again. “Be careful or you might bust through.”

“Get out,” I yell, cupping my hands over my mid-section and turning to the side. “Mom!”

“Easy, big guy. They’re not home.”

“So get out.”

“Listen,” he says. “You’re working tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I need a case. Bud cans.”

“Ten dollars.”

He cocks his head to one side and squints. “I haven’t paid for a beer in my life.”

“Guess you start now. Think of it as stimulating the economy.”

“You suck.”

“No, I’m a businessman,” I say. “Now get out.”

He stares at the towel. “So what’s her name?”

“What? Who?”

“Whoever you’re thinking about.”

“Very funny.”

“All right,” he says. “I’ll leave you in peace, but can I give you some advice?”

I roll my eyes. “Hurry, please.”

“Tank’s a loose cannon sometimes, isn’t he?”

“That’s hardly breaking news.”

“But lately he’s worse, especially when he drinks. Am I right?”

“What’s it to you? You drink too much, anyway.”

“Whatever.” He studies me for a few moments. “I have a feeling throwing rocks at cars is just the beginning for him. But you, you’ve never gotten into much trouble before.” He shrugs. “What I’m saying is, be careful who you hang out with.”

“You sound like Dad.”

“No, there’s a difference. I know what it’s like out there. Dad doesn’t. I didn’t learn much in high school, but I learned who my real friends were.” He closes the door so that just a sliver of his face shows. “Remember that. During senior year, you’ll learn who your real friends are.”

“Yeah,” I say. “And if you take another year off before starting college, you’re about to learn what it’s like to live in this hellhole your whole life.”

He opens the door wide. “Zach, why are you so obsessed with my future?”

“Because there is no future in Blaine, Justin! Jesus, I don’t know … I mean, I guess part of me is still pissed about you quitting football. That was your BEP, man. You had the ultimate Captain Rick, and it’s like you just pissed it away without thinking. I look at a guy like Victor Hodge and realize he has it made. You had that same thing … ” And here I pause. “But you totally screwed it up and won’t talk about it.”

True to form, he simply walks out and closes the door.

“Yeah, keep it inside,” I yell. “That’s real healthy, Justin.” Silence. “You’re a loser, you know it?”