Victor stopped by after school let out. His friend already had a car—a Jeep his dad had picked up for two hundred bucks at the county sheriff’s auction last year. The transmission could not be put into reverse—which made for some awkward and complicated parking arrangements—but other than that, the vehicle ran fine, and when Victor asked if Nick could cruise with him over to Sonic and hang out, his dad let him go.

“Punishment’s over,” he said. “Have fun.”

They didn’t actually go to Sonic. They went over to the high school, where Victor pulled around to the parking lot next to the field so they could watch the cheerleaders practice. He had a crush on Stacey Wilder, who wouldn’t give him the time of day at school but who had said hi to him during the summer when he’d seen her at the movie theater. He seemed to be laboring under the delusion that if he put himself in close proximity to her, she would somehow succumb to his charms.

Victor got out of the car and Nick followed suit, both of them leaning against the side of the Jeep, facing the field.

“Rumor has it,” Victor said, “that your mom’s getting boned by the gardener.”

Nick felt the heat rush to his face. “Who said that? We don’t even have a gardener.” But an image flashed in his mind of his mom’s car parked in front of the nursery.

Victor shrugged.

“You can’t just tell me something like that and then pussy out when I ask who said it. Who said it?”

“Mrs. Nelson.”

“Asshole.”

“I don’t know, dude. It’s a rumor going around. Who gives a shit? Just enjoy the view.”

They were silent for a moment, watching the cheerleaders perform a routine.

“You really think this is going to impress Stacey? Stalking her?”

“I’m not stalking her.”

“We’re spying on her cheerleader practice. It’s creepy. Chicks don’t like that.”

“Is there an ounce of testosterone in your body? You have no idea what chicks like.”

They’d been ranking on each other, half-joking, the way they usually did, but a touch of anger had entered Victor’s voice, and the look on his face was serious.

Nick backed off, backed down.

Montgomery?

He wouldn’t mind putting his friends in the rearview mirror.

Silently, he turned his attention to the cheerleaders.

4

V.J. killed the dog out in the open, and it felt glorious. Rather than dispatching it in the garage or storage shed, the way he usually did, he took the animal to the park and slaughtered it on the tennis court. There were little kids and their parents in the playground, and a few joggers on the paths, but the basketball and tennis courts were all empty, so he had this section of the park to himself.

There was something exciting about doing it where he could possibly get caught, and even as he entered the park with the stolen pet, leading it on a leash, there was a bounce in his step. The terrier barked at another dog—a setter being walked by a hot woman in tight exercise pants—and he and the woman nodded at each other and smiled, sharing the camaraderie of fellow dog walkers.