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quickly
enough and my fingers tightened around his throat. “Got it, Saint Ricky?” He nodded
the best he could. He’d submitted nicely and I could reward him. Like a fucking
animal, punish when being a shit but reward to encourage good behavior.
    “We’re headed to Zarahemla now. Let’s
go.” He was officially initiated.
    Rick
    He scared me. I knew he’d lash out if
pushed, but I thought he’d just be a bigger jerk. I didn’t expect him to actually
hit me. Then to turn around and invite me to go with them to Zarahemla after school,
I didn’t know what to think. I’d gone, of course. Completely off balance and confused,
I hadn’t thought twice about drinking the alcohol he’d offered.
    From that moment forward, I knew he
was not to be crossed. The look in his eyes when he had wrapped his fingers around
my neck—that look was not a teenage punk being a jerk. That was controlled, malicious,
and downright evil. He’d sent a very loud and clear message to me. Want the perks
of being friends with Kevin? You deal with Kevin.
    The days that followed were not easy.
Crossing him was not a good idea, and because of that, I couldn’t help wanting to.
The part of me with a death wish insisted that I push back.
    When he allowed us into his bedroom
after school one day—one of eight bedrooms in his massive house—I looked around,
speechless. I didn’t know what I’d expected. I guess I’d expected crumpled jeans
tossed in the corner, dirty plates on his nightstand, sheets falling off his bed
and, in general, things in a mess, but his room was immaculate. I almost feared
walking in. The thought of him shoving me against the wall if I touched something
nearly stopped me in my tracks. I gauged the actions of the others and tried to
do what they did. It didn’t surprise me that they acted almost with reverence. None
of them sat or touched anything; they all just stood around talking. I noticed Kevin
hesitate just a second before opening his closet doors, then busy himself hanging
his jacket. He glanced subtly behind him, and I noted the corners of his mouth pulling
into a pleased smirk.
    “Hey guys, relax. Sit,” he said abruptly
with a smile. It wasn’t so much a gesture of manners as a command. He tossed Jeremy
a bag of what looked like weed before cracking several windows and lighting some
incense. My stomach clenched. How was I going to get out of this one? Cigarettes
and booze were one thing, but drugs were a whole other story.
    “You up for this, Saint Ricky?” Kevin
asked, and I knew immediately that this was another test.
    “Sure, it’s not like it’s my first time.”
I lied, instantly regretting it. He wasn’t stupid.
    “Sure it’s not,” Mike snickered.
    “Whatever, fool.” I glared at him.
    “Well, in that case, would you like
to do the honors?” Kevin tossed me a pack of small papers, like I had any idea what
to do with them.
    “Don’t ya have a pipe?” I asked, figuring
it would be easier to put some in a pipe than roll a joint.
    Kevin smiled. He didn’t move, just nicely
said, “Of course, I do. But what’s wrong with a joint?” It was always a battle with
him.
    “Well, I prefer a pipe, that’s all.”
My mind reeled with ways to figure out what to do with a pipe. I didn’t think it
could be that hard. I was sure I could figure out how to use one. It had to be easier
than rolling a joint. Kevin sat for an instant longer before going back to his closet.
He located his pipe, strolled casually back and handed it to me.
    “Well, isn’t that your luck? It’s already
loaded. Go ahead and do the honors. Take the first hit.” He smiled at me. He knew
I had no idea how to light or smoke a pipe. And he was going to make sure everyone
else knew it. The guys watched me with curiosity. After several moments Jeremy spoke
up.
    “Come on, if you’re not going to hit
it, let me,” he said, reaching for the pipe.
    “Jeremy,” Kevin snapped, and he stopped
instantly. I’d seen this done in