Free Almost Kings by Max Doty Page B

week. It’s loaded.”
    “Couple of fucking alcoholics,” said Wood, swigging whiskey.
    “Definitely.”
    Hass tossed the knife at the dartboard and hit for eighteen. The Kings cheered, raised their drinks, and chanted, “Ninja. Ninja. Ninja.” I took out my cell, scrolled down to Emily’s number, and hit dial.
     
    That night Truck and I walked to the Ford to pick up Emily. As I opened the passenger-side door, he reached into his pocket and told me to hold up for a second. When I turned, I saw he was holding out the keys.
    “You’re driving,” he said, pressing them into my hand.
    “I can’t.”
    “Sure you can,” he said. “It’s an automatic. Just point it where you want to go and hit the gas. Anyway, I’m still drunk. It’s safer this way, right?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Look. What girl ever slept with a guy who couldn’t even drive her around? This is your night, little brother, I can feel it. Finally stepping up.”
    I looked back at the Ford. I’d always wanted to get behind the wheel.
    “What about the cops?”
    He shrugged. “Drive slow. And one more thing.” He took out a condom a slid it into the front pocket of my jeans. “Don’t fuck up like I did. Girls’ll tell you they’re on the pill or some line about their cycle. Don’t trust ‘em. You got to always wrap it up.”
    I put a hand in my pocket and felt the condom’s foil wrapper press against the squishy latex inside.
    “Yeah,” I said. “Thanks.”
     
    An hour later, I sat next to Emily is Reggie’s rec room, as we watched the Kings shoot pool and drink. Only a couple of girls besides Emily had come. They were Gina Stephenson and Pearl Tan, a six and an eight, respectively, neither of them virgins. Hass and Wood were teaching them how to hold the cue and line up shots. Classic move, and obvious, but it worked. The guys pressed their bodies up against the girls from behind and wrapped their rough fingers around the girls’ soft hands.
    “You could fit my whole house in this room,” said Emily staring up at the vaulted ceiling. Her cheeks were over-rouged and her lip gloss outshone the pool balls. I wondered if her equally-clueless older sister had helped her get ready. Her short skirt revealed her thin, perfect legs, but she still wore her usual long-sleeved shirt, refusing to show off her shoulders or breasts.
    “My house too,” I said.
    “My parents used to own that whole tract of land out by Little Basin,” said Reggie, lining up a shot. “They sold it a few years back right before the bubble burst, built this place, and had plenty left over. Now they’re out of town most of the time.”
    “This is your place?” asked Pearl, suddenly interested.
    “That’s right.”
    “It’s his parents’ place,” said Hass, putting an arm around the girl’s waist. “He just happens to live here, is all.”
    “A toast,” said Wood, pouring vodka into a set of eight shot glasses. “To Reggie’s parents.”
    We each took a shot glass and downed it, except Emily. She took a small sip and looked up at me with her big, mascared eyes.
    “What do I do?” she asked. “I’ve never done a shot.”
    “You drink it,” I said. “It’s good stuff, but you still don’t want to sip it. Toss it down the back of your throat.”
    Emily opened her mouth, tilted back her head, and tipped back the shot glass. She made a face and coughed as everyone else laughed. Truck handed her a wine cooler and said, “Here, this’ll wash away the taste.” She sipped thankfully.
    “How many bedrooms does this place have?” asked Pearl.
    “Six beds, seven-and-a-half baths,” said Reggie.
    “You want a tour?” asked Hass.
    He took Pearl’s hand, and started to lead her out of the room. As he did, he turned to grin back at Reggie, who mouthed “I hate you.”
    “Come on,” Wood said to Gina, following Hass’s queue. “You’ve got to see the master bathroom. They got a mini hot tub in there.”
    Emily was still sipping her wine cooler. I