yolo (7 page)

The parking lot was mainly deserted except for a couple of semis parked down at the end, past the blond-brick service building. Brandon pulled into a space right in front of a well-lit area with five vending machines and signs pointing in opposite directions towards the men's and women's bathrooms.

“Asshole!” Chestnut punched the back of the seat.

“HEY!” Ana whirled, shoving Emily into the dashboard and Pickles onto Brandon's lap. “He just drove your getaway car!”

“Some getaway,” said Liz. “We didn't even get any cash before that numb nuts back there started shooting.”

“And whose fault is
that
?” Ana asked. “Not Brandon's.”

Liz and Chestnut both hung their heads sheepishly under Ana's glare. Chestnut reached for the door handle. Liz grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Aw hell,” said Chestnut. “I need a smoke.”

Chestnut threw open the car door and went stomping up to a picnic table near the snack machines, where he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Liz went scrambling after him.

“Well, that was a total bust,” said Brandon.

“You think?” Emily said. She rolled her eyes and sighed the word “Idiots” under her breath.

“Hey! Who're you calling ‘idiots'?” Brandon said, pulling open a family-size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

Emily couldn't stand it anymore. “You! Them! Everyone.” She reached over Ana and pulled the door handle open. “Jesus Christ, Ana, get out of the car. I am crushed against this console.”

“Alright, alright.
Cálmate
.” Ana slid out of the car, and Emily practically tumbled onto the pavement after her.

“Don't you tell
me
to calm down, Ana. I just wanted us to have a good time at a party this weekend, which, might I remind you
both
, I am paying for gas to drive us to.”

Brandon walked around the front of the car and leaned against the hood, holding the bag of Doritos out to Emily. “Chips?”

Emily wheeled on him. “How can you eat
all the time
?”

Brandon shrugged and took a glug from a two-liter bottle of Coke. He let out a giant burp that smelled like rotten Cool Ranch, then made that goofy grin. Ana immediately collapsed into giggles and Emily punched Brandon in the arm.

“Ow! Hey, you have to stop that. Why can girls beat up on guys all the time, when we're not allowed to hit back?” “Oh, I don't know, Brandon,” Emily scoffed. “Maybe it's because doofus guys do idiotic things like
offering to take the robbers who hold up the diner to their next hit
!”

“Good job, Pickles! That's a good poo poo!” Ana was squealing as Pickles did his business, then started running across the grassy lawn.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked.

Ana stopped and pointed to a big green bin with a picture of a dog on it by the trash cans. “To get a poop bag over there.”

“Oh,” Emily said, “so it's okay to collude with bandits and become an accomplice to armed robbery, but
picking up dog poop
is where you
draw the line
?”

“Fine,” Ana huffed. “I'll leave the dog poop.”

“Oh, that's not all we're leaving,” Emily said, grabbing the keys from Brandon.

“We're leaving?” Emily heard Chestnut's voice, and whirled around to see him and Liz walking up to the car, smelling like an ashtray.

“No,” said Emily. “
You're
not leaving.
We
are leaving.
You
are going to continue your life of crime using someone else for transportation.”

“You can't leave us
here
!” Liz said, alarmed.

“Oh yes. Yes, we can.”

“But we have one more job today!” Liz was frantic.

Emily stalked up to Liz and leaned into her face. “If you get into the backseat of my car ever again, I swear to God I will call the police on you myself and wait until they show up to slap you in cuffs.”

“But what about our little boy?” Chestnut said. “They'll take Artie away from us.”

Emily glared at him. “Well, if you can't stop stealing from people, maybe they
should
take Artie away from you.” Emily walked around the front of the car, got in behind the driver's seat, and started the engine.

Brandon offered Chestnut the bag of Doritos. “Hang on a sec,” he said. “I'll talk to her.”

Chestnut took it and dug in with Liz while Brandon leaned down and rapped on the passenger-side window with a knuckle.

Emily rolled down the window a few inches. “Get. In.
Now
.” She was not screwing around.

“I'd really like to,” Brandon said like he was breaking bad news to a child. “It's just that I can't leave them here by themselves.”

“You have
got
to be
kidding me
.” Emily laid her head on the steering wheel. The clock told her that her plan was already almost two hours off schedule, and if everything that had just happened hadn't convinced her, for some reason seeing the time made her understand just what an unmitigated disaster this day had become.

Ana pulled open the passenger door and jumped in with Pickles, who did a very happy wiggle dance into Emily's lap and licked her on the nose. It was such a ridiculous thing—that a dog was dancing around her front seat and licking her face—that she gave up. She just started laughing. Ana watched her for a second, her eyes wide. Emily was sure that Ana must think that she was watching her best friend lose her mind, but then Ana was laughing too—and neither one of them could stop. Eventually, there were tears running down Emily's face, and Ana kept panting, “Stop! Okay, stop! My stomach hurts from—” Then Pickles jumped up and licked her nose with a little bark and the two of them collapsed into hysterics again.

Finally Brandon opened the door to the backseat and slid inside. “Are we good to go?” he asked. “Can I tell them to get in?”

“Dammit, Brandon. Why do you care about these assholes more than your friends' safety?” Emily said. She wasn't angry
now, she was just curious. It didn't make sense to her.

Brandon shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “I just know that when my dad left, my mom . . .” His voice trailed off for a second, and Emily saw a shadow cross his face. She saw Ana reach into the backseat and put her hand on Brandon's knee. Feeling her touch him, he looked up into her eyes, and somehow found his voice again. “My mom, she was strapped financially. I know she did some stuff that she wasn't proud of. I mean, she didn't sell herself or anything, but she worked a lot of shifts at the Bikini Bar. I just understand when people feel like they don't have any options left to take care of their kid.”

Part of her wanted to protest, but Emily kept her mouth closed. True, they didn't even know if Artie existed, and there were obvious problems with equating Liz and Chestnut with Brandon's mom, who had worked her ass off to keep things going for Brandon and not lose their house after his dad ran off . . . but still, she was tired of the arguments—with her friends, sure, but mainly with herself.

Emily sighed. “Where do they want to go next?”

“Well . . .” Brandon had a sheepish grin on his face. “They have one more job planned.”

“Brandon,” Emily said, “they are
so bad
at holdups.”

This cracked Ana up again, and this time when the laughter spread through the car, Brandon was in on it too. “
Dude
. I
know
,” he said. Finally they settled down again, and when they did, they saw Chestnut and Liz leaning against the front of the car making out. Emily started to say “Ewww!” but stopped
herself, and watched the tender way Chestnut held Liz, one arm around her waist, one hand sliding up to cup her cheek.

“Aww, they're so
cute
!” Ana said, squeezing Pickles, who yelped in agreement.

Something about this moment gave Emily pause. Sure, they were criminals, but maybe the things people
did
didn't define who they actually
were
. She thought about Brandon's mom slinging drinks at the Bikini Bar until she met Brandon's stepdad and could go back to school and finish her teaching degree. True, Brandon's mom hadn't done anything illegal, but she'd done whatever it took to make sure Brandon had everything he needed.

“They may be cute,” Emily said, “but you guys, it's too dangerous to keep hanging out with them.”

“Agreed,” said Brandon. “Just let them tell you about this last job?”

Looking back, Emily would understand that this was the moment she stopped trying. Everybody was always telling her to “let go” and “go with the flow.”

“Fine,” she said.

Brandon opened the door and poked his head out. “Jesus, you two. Get a
room
why don't you.”

Liz giggled, and Emily actually thought she might have seen her blush. She and Chestnut came barreling into the backseat.

“So, you're gonna take us to the last job?” Liz asked.

Emily sighed. “Where is this last stop?”

Chestnut jumped in, his eyes lit up like fireworks. “Well, see, we gotta get to this big warehouse about five miles up the highway. We've got to make a pickup.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Ana held up her hand. “Pick up
what
?”

Liz and Chestnut glanced at each other. “A shipment,” said Liz brightly. She started tapping around on her phone. “Let me pull up the address.”

“A shipment of
what
exactly?” asked Emily.

“Coke,” said Chestnut.

“Don't you need a truck to pick up a bunch of soda?” asked Ana. Emily stared at her friend.
How could she be this naive?
Chestnut almost busted a gut, and Liz was snorting she was laughing so hard.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Liz patted Ana's head. “
Cocaine
. Blow.”

“Wow,” Brandon whistled quietly. “You guys are like, big time, huh?”

Chestnut shrugged. “Not yet, but we're hoping to be.”

“Do you guys run drugs a lot?” Ana asked. Emily couldn't help being concerned by the curiosity in her voice.
Is Ana really weighing the pros and cons of felony possession?

“Well, this is our first time,” said Liz. “But we hear these guys aren't the scary cartel types.”

Emily glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Brandon's eyes go wide. “You mean, you've never met these dudes before?” Emily was pleased that he seemed a little bit scared. Maybe all those hours watching
Breaking Bad
had put the fear of God in him where the drug trade was concerned.

“We can take care of ourselves.” Liz was all swagger and bluster.

Emily held up both hands. This conversation was going no further. “Okay, you guys. It's been great and all. I think it's pretty clear that we aren't being pursued, so that guy Earl at Little-J must not have gotten our license plate.”

“Or maybe he didn't call the police,” said Brandon.

“Either way, our little crime spree ends here.” Emily's voice was firm. “I really just want to get to the party.”

“Wait—what party?” Liz asked.

“Oh, it's no big deal.” Emily sighed. She knew it was unattractive, but she couldn't help the sarcasm that oozed from her voice. “It's just going to be the best high-school party that has ever been thrown in the history of high-school parties.”

“C'mon,” groaned Brandon. “How do you even know that?”

“Look at how much trouble we've had getting to it,” said Emily. “If we've gone through this much shit to even
show up
, don't you think it's going to
have
to be worth it? I mean, isn't that the universal law of parties?”

“Just take us to the next gas station.” Everybody turned and looked at Liz.

“Aw hell, no, babe,” Chestnut started to protest, but Liz raised a hand to his face, and Chestnut immediately shut up even though Liz was still staring at Emily. There was a faraway look in her eyes. Emily felt like Liz was almost staring right through her.

“I remember,” Liz said to her.

“What?” Emily was confused.

“A party my senior year,” said Liz. “That's where I met this one.” She slid an arm around Chestnut and planted another kiss on his cheek. “Drop us at the Arco up at the next exit. We'll call a cab and have it take us back to our car.”

“Wait,” said Ana. “You have a car? Why did you say you take cabs?”

“Well, our car doesn't always
work
so well,” Liz explained. “But it was working today. We parked down the street from Rick's. We can just have a cab take us back there.”

“Are you sure?” Brandon asked. “I mean we could—”

“We're sure,” said Liz. “You guys need to get going. You never know who might be at the best party of your high-school years.”

Emily smiled at Liz. For the first time since this freaky chick with the spiky hair had blazed into the diner with an empty gun over her head and a ski mask over her face, Emily felt an understanding had passed between them.

“Well, step on it!” Liz commanded. “Can't keep destiny waiting.”

As they drove away from Liz and Chestnut, Ana held Pickles up to the window and waived his tiny front paws at them.

“What are we going to do with that dog?” Emily asked.

Ana looked horrified. “We are going to take it home with us.”

“Ana, your mom barely lets humans into her home, and we have to take off our shoes
and
our socks. There is no way in hell she's letting you keep a Chihuahua. Especially one named Pickles you found in a gas station.”

“Yeah.” Brandon laughed. “Em has a point.”