Chapter 11

The next Friday night, after the football game, a big crowd was at Fabrice's as usual. I had been feeling sorry for myself, and feeling sorry for Micki, so I tried to act more like a boyfriend for her sake, even though my heart really wasn't in it. We were sitting together in a booth with Jared and Mattie, and for a change my mood wasn't as black as it had been. I was almost having fun.

I got up to go to the john. As I was finishing up, standing at one of the row of urinals, I heard the bathroom door open. I was just zipping up when Donny Hammach, Brittany Felson's old boyfriend, stepped up to the urinal next to mine.

"How ya doin', Kennedy?" he drawled. "How's your love life?"

"What's it to you, Donny?" I said. He was talking like he had been drinking. Normally he was such a chickenshit, especially after Jared had cleaned his clock when he broke up with Brittany, that he wouldn't have said more than two words to me.

'Oh, just wonderin'," he said lazily. "By the way, mine's just fine, thanks for asking."

"I didn't ask, and I don't want to know," I said angrily.

"Hey, it's all right, I don't mind you asking," he continued, as if I had asked him to elaborate. "You wanna smell?" He held up the middle finger of his right hand to me, offering me to take a sniff. "No? Don't mind if I do." He raised his finger to his own nose and inhaled deeply. "Ah, luscious," he sighed. He slipped his finger into his mouth. "And tasty, too," he said, looking at me craftily. "Tastes like a... hmmmm... like a Samuelson to me!" he said gleefully.

Just the thought of this mope touching Melissa was enough to set me off. In a rage, I grabbed the back of his collar as he was standing there and pulled him back and down onto the restroom floor. He was taken by surprise, before he was done urinating. His flabby prick was still sticking out of his pants, and he was peeing on himself. I dropped to my knee on his stomach, and he let out with a breathy "Hoooofffff". I reached down and grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up toward me, my knee still in his gut.

"If you want to stay alive, you'd better be telling me you're lying," I said quietly.

"Take... it... easy... Ray... Let... me... up... can't... breathe..." he gasped.

"Too fucking bad," I said. "Is it true?"

He didn't have enough breath to say anything, so he shook his head violently from side to side, not caring that some of his hair was coming out in my hands as I held on tight.

I let up on him just enough for him to take a long, panicky gasp in, then pressed down on him again. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about, then?" I asked.

"Yeah, okay, get off me first, will ya?" I clear look of panic was starting to show itself in his eyes, which I liked to see.

"Nope," I said, smiling. "I'm not letting you up yet." But I did let up on the pressure on his spasming diaphragm so he could painfully take small breaths. "Talk, motherfucker."

"All right, all right," he said. He knew his situation was not good, and his best hope was to come clean with me. That panicky look faded a little, but he was still scared. "I got someone to fix me up with her on kind of a blind date. We were out tonight, but nothing happened."

"How much of 'nothing' are we talking about here, Donny?" I asked.

"Nothing nothing, goddamn it!" he cried. "She wanted to go home, so I took her home. I tried to get her to at least kiss me good night, maybe cop a feel, but, man, what a cold fish!" I pressed down harder on him for that comment. "Hey, take it easy, Kennedy!" he wheezed, the panic rising again in his eyes. "You wanted to know what happened, I'm telling you. I thought you'd be happy she was cold to me, for crissakes!"

"You're right, I should have known better than to think she might have let a loser like you into her life," I said. I stood up and looked down at him. "Get up, you human waste of skin. Can't you see you're lying down on a filthy restroom floor? And by the way, you pissed all over yourself," I said as I headed for the door.

Wow, I thought, now THAT put me in a good mood. All I had to do was beat on someone not wearing pads, and I was happy. I laughed as I sat back down again.

"What's up with you, Ray?" asked Jared.

"Let me take a look at your face," said Micki, grabbing my ear and turning my head toward her. "Jesus, is that a smile I see there? Where'd that come from? It looks so strange on that face."

"Cut it out, Micki. Can I help it if I'm in a good mood?" I said.

"Hey," said Mattie, looking past us toward the back of the restaurant, "isn't that Donny Hammach coming out of the john?"

Jared looked up, his eyes narrowing. "Where? I told that buckethead not to show his face anywhere near me or Brit."

"Hey, what happened to him? He looks like he fell into the toilet. Oh, it's okay, Jare, he's leaving," said Mattie.

Jared looked over at me, a sudden realization dawning. "Was he in there while you were there, Ray?"

I smiled at him happily. "Oh, yes, he was," I said with a grin.

"And did you assist in getting him to look like he does?" he asked, smiling.

"Well, his parents had a lot to do with the way he looks, but, yes, I assisted in his current state of disarray," I said.

We all burst out laughing, and Jared gave me a high-five. Kids at the other tables looked at us, and were probably wondering about what happened. The Ray Machine hadn't laughed in a long time, and it felt kind of good.

By Thanksgiving, Micki and I had evolved into a more comfortable relationship. We weren't as close as Micki probably wanted us to be, but I had begun to appreciate her as an individual, and most of my friends were accepting her.

The biggest fallout, other than Melissa and me, was that eventually Brad and Lindsey broke up. Knowing Brad, it was probably inevitable, but what happened at the campout accelerated the disintegration of their relationship. Hardly missing a beat, Brad asked Jared's sister Brittany out, and they were now a pretty steady couple. Lindsey and Missy, from what I heard, did a lot of double dating, but not with anyone steady. Missy still wouldn't talk to me, but I was slowly getting beyond that.

Or, at least, I hoped I was.

Just before Thanksgiving, Marcus's two brothers, Jerry and Ev, came home from college for the holiday. By Friday afternoon, the day after Thanksgiving, the North High telephone tree was a-shaking. It all kind of started right after Marcus called me, around noon.

"Hey, Ray, Marcus here. How are you doing?"

"Okay, I guess, what's up?"

"Jerry and Ev are home. They told me what happened at the campout. Why didn't you tell anybody, man? You were a fucking hero, and you didn't say a word to anybody."