Sticky’s family was an interesting case. His brother Dennis “Rabbit” O’Donnell was a senior at Jesuit, third in his class, all-state in cross-country, and for whom early admission to Stanford felt like a done deal. Dennis had hectored Sticky into a myriad (Oglesby word) of second-banana complexes. Sticky was also five deviations bright, but with family issues like tissues, one after the next, the foremost being his father had left Sticky’s mother, and not for another woman. Sticky, who was the second oldest of six, didn’t talk about this, ever.

The rest of the crew groaned as he found the tape along the floorboards and the screaming guitar came in off Electric. It was Stick’s car and Stick’s stereo, but the Cult?

God, this music sucks and blows, Dan thought as he stared up at the dome light like he was making some last petition for an unanswered prayer. As the station wagon turned on Inwood, Rob stretched out in the backseat and kicked his Kaepas next to the headrest for Rick’s seat.

“I bet five dollars that Malone doesn’t talk to Cady Bloom.”

“Fuck you,” Dan said.

“You know, Lexy told me Cady is going out for cheerleading this year.” Rob had all the cheerleader gossip via his sister.

“So?”

“So she’ll be over at Jesuit every afternoon for practice. Your competition is about to go school-wide. I’m just saying you got to lock it down early.”

“She doesn’t even know—”

“Bullshit.” Rick was trying to buck him up in his smart-ass way. “She knows you from St. Rita’s. Get on it, Malone.”

Fuckin’-a, Rick’s right.

“Where are we going after this?” Rob asked.

“You and Malone here can go on a magical double date with girls you’ll never speak to,” Rick riffed. The rest of the car cackled with gleeful agreement. Cruel, Dan smarted, and probably true. For it was known throughout the Nissan Stanza, if not the entire realm of North Dallas: Dan Malone was rattled by girls.

Dan tapped his pack of cigarettes, wanting to get a smoke in before the dance. Am I really such a coward? he wondered as he stared out the back window, watching the road disappear into the Dallas night.