Page 31 of Pride High 2: Orange
Ricky nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll tell them how your car is always unlocked, and say that I saw someone poking around in it during the middle of the school day. I can see the parking lot from my algebra class, so the cops would have to believe me.”
Diego reassessed him. “Not bad.”
“I’m a useful guy to have around.” Please let him read into that!
Diego gripped the steering wheel tighter and accelerated. They had more stops to make. The next two played out exactly like the first. On the third, Ricky was feeling daring. “Can I go with you?”
Diego shrugged. “Whatever.”
Ricky watched him take the largest of the baggies from the glovebox, this one so full that Diego had to tuck it inside his jacket and pin it down with an arm. The house they approached wasn’t so different than the first, except the driveway was filled with cars. Ricky was expecting a gang of seedy-looking guys clustered around a smoky table while playing poker. These visions were wrecked when a little kid opened the door.
“Let me talk to your parents,” Diego grunted.
The kid stared a second longer before shouting, “MOM! DAD!”
A Hispanic man showed up a minute later. He was wiping his hands on an apron, although in the right clothes, he might have looked tough and seedy. But only if Ricky squinted his eyes enough.
“Diego! Hey, man. Sorry, I was out back barbecuing. You hungry?”
“Nah,” Diego said.
“Who’s this?” the man asked, smiling at Ricky after ushering them in and closing the door.
“He’s cool.” Diego revealed the weed. “Special delivery.”
The man took the bag of weed from him and turned it over. “Very nice! You should think about going into farming.” From over his shoulder, the man shouted, “Hey, Sharon! Get my wallet!” Then he considered them again. “Everything goin’ all right? How’s your mother?”
“Still crazy,” Diego said.
“Yeah, I figured. You sure look like your dad. It’s wild, man. Like old times.”
“Got any photos?” Diego asked.
“Afraid not. I could probably tell you a few stories though. You’re old enough now.”
A plump white woman walked into the room. She greeted Diego with warmth and smiled at Ricky. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.
“We’ve got plans,” Diego mumbled.
“Well if you’re ever hungry,” she replied, “I’m always cooking. That’s what it feels like anyway.”
“Hey, I’m the one sweatin’ over a grill!” the man said, giving her a playful swat on the butt. She swatted him back and added a pinch.
“We’ve really gotta go,” Diego said, sounding strained.
“Right, right. Here…”
Diego was handed quite a few bills, which he didn’t bother counting before he stuffed them into a pocket.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” the man said.
Diego nodded and left without saying another word.
“That guy is friends with your dad?” Ricky asked as they crossed the yard. “Does he know what you sell? How much money was that anyway? It looked like a lot. Now I’m wondering why you have a real job at all. Do you ever stay for dinner? It smelled good.”
Diego scowled at him. “Get in the car.”
“Okay,” Ricky said with a shrug, having gotten used to his moodiness.
