12-Joe

“C’mon, motherfucker…hurry up,” Joe whispered to himself as he stood on the hill overlooking the 18th green.

The last, scant bits of twilight had long since faded. The goddamn stars were out. All his work was done, everything had been taken care of, but he couldn’t leave until that one last member who was out on number 18 came back in and returned his golf cart.

He finally finished after what seemed like an eternity.

“Getting a little dark out, huh?” he said with a grin, without any clue what kind of anguish he had been putting Joe through. Joe imagined very clearly punching him in the face.

“Yes, sir,” Joe said blankly, commandeering the golf cart from him. To top it all off, the guy didn’t tip him.

Joe parked the golf cart, plugged it in to the battery, locked the door, shut the gate, and got to his car in the parking lot before that last member got to his. Mere seconds later, Joe was flying down the road toward Antwann’s house.

He rounded the corner, and the party was in view. As expected, the street was lined with cars. Joe parked as close as he could, then walked through the side yard toward the gate that opened to the back, where the bulk of the party would surely be. He heard the persistent buzz of voices and laughter, shouts and hollers, a hip-hop beat, all of it intensifying as he neared. Then, passing through the gate, he was immersed in it all, joining that world of easy smiles, bouncing quarters, flowing beer, and pouring smoke.

But, perhaps for the first time ever, he didn’t care for any of that—at least not yet. His nonchalance was counterfeit, as his eyes scanned rapidly through the crowd. He saw plenty of people he knew from school, and plenty more that he didn’t.

But he didn’t see her.

Then, Joe noticed something else was off. Neither Rob nor Raza yelled out a drunken greeting as he had entered the party, and they were the most likely candidates to do so. In fact, they were nowhere to be seen…nor was Trey, or Paul…

Joe frowned. He didn’t like this. But then, finally, he spotted his favorite mismatched duo up on the porch and grinned.

They were the party hosts—Ronnie, straight from the hood, with his sagging pants, no shirt, and forty always in hand, alongside his best friend Antwann, who looked straight from the 70s with his oversized afro and perpetually funky commentary. The one thing they clearly had in common was their eyes, which were so thin and red they looked like they were of a different species.

“Good lord, how much have you guys smoked?” Joe asked, laughing.

“Big Joe!” Ronnie called out. “’Bout time.”

“What’s up, fellas?” They slap-shook crisply.

“Chillin,’ bro,” Antwann answered.

“Where all the ladies at?” Joe asked, looking around.

“Shiiiit, we should be asking you,” Ronnie replied.

“Yeah, Joe, where’s your girl Crystal at?” Antwann asked, grinning widely. A bellowing laughter whipped through him and Ronnie like a gust of wind.

“Man, shut up,” Joe moaned. “I had beer-goggles like a motherfucker that night.”

“You shoulda just gone ahead and hit it,” Antwann said.

“Tell me you at least got up on them titties,” Ronnie added. “That would make it all worth it there, yo.”

“Aw, yeah, there’s fables written about her chest, man,” Antwann went on, nodding, tendrils of smoke drifting lazily from his nostrils. “Those are…mythical.”

“Hit it tonight, Joe. You know she’ll be here later.”

“Yo, I ain’t tryin’ to be talkin’ about Crystal,” Joe protested.

“Aw, shit, I know,” Ronnie said, grinning. “My man had some ladies stoppin’ by to see him earlier. That’s what you tryin’ to be talkin’ about, right?”

“Oh, for real? Who?” Joe replied, his effort to sound casual a total struggle.

“Shit, you know, pimp daddy. Them sophomore girls. Katherine Lisi was here looking for you, yo, and she looked fine as hell, and your ass wasn’t here.”

Joe gulped. “Where’d they all go?”

“They left your ass, man. Those girls ran off with Paul and Trey.”

Joe felt a rush of anxiety that he couldn’t disguise.

“Yo, chill, brother! They’ll be back. They just went to go check out that other party.”

“Other party?” Joe was aghast.

“Yeah, man, and Rob and Raza went with ’em too.”

Joe frowned. The last person he wanted Katherine exposed to was Rob. It would make Joe guilty by association.

“What other party?” he asked.

“Zack Huchzermeier’s.”

Joe scowled. “Who the fuck is Zack Huchzermeier?”

“Some sophomore. His party is off the hook, from what I’ve heard. It’s packed. It’ll probably be busted, though. Just a matter of time on that shit.”

“Where does he live?”

“Birchwood…Sun Valley Court.”

That was all Joe needed to hear. Sun Valley was a small road. A party would be easy to spot.

“Dude…I’m out,” Joe said.

“You leavin’ already?” Ronnie asked, scowling. “What the hell, you just got here.”

“Yeah, I know, I…”

Ronnie grinned. “You chasin’ that ass, right?”

Joe couldn’t think of anything else to say, plus, he was right. “Yeah.”

“Ha, hah!” Ronnie laughed boisterously as he shook Joe’s hand yet again. “All right, Joe.”

“I’ll be back,” Joe said.

“Hopefully you won’t. Not if you get laid.”

Joe felt for a moment utterly shocked, he couldn’t even move. Leave it to Ronnie to be so forward-thinking, so ambitious, and just the mere thought of what he said almost knocked Joe out. He was in ecstasy when he just talked with Katherine, the idea of actually having sex with her was…

Ronnie laughed again. “I guess you met your match, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so. All right, I’m getting out of here.”

“Peace, brother.”

Joe walked briskly back to his car and then hauled ass toward Birchwood, already hating this night and everything that had happened so far.

It felt like it took forever.