3.

  Lunch, two periods, and six more pen sales later, Johnny got back into his Mustang and pulled out of the school parking lot. “Six more months of this horse shit,” Johnny said to himself as he pulled into the traffic of seniors trying to leave school property as fast as they could. His radio was just as loud as it was when he pulled in that morning — tuned to the classic rock station as always. It was just before three o’clock, so that meant that The Wizard had control of 95.7’s switchboard and he was playing one of his favorite bands, Pink Floyd, the song aptly titled, Money.

  Johnny reached into his glove compartment for his newest pack of Pyramid cigarettes. At this point in his smoking career, he was convinced his parents knew about his habit, but they had been unable to catch him in the act so he had been able to avoid the pain in the ass that he knew that conversation would be. He lit one up and thanked god his October 31st birthday allowed him to be eighteen in the last half of his senior year as he took a drag off it as he inched further up the main road out of the school parking lot.

  With his pot money, Johnny could have afforded a much classier brand of cigarette than Pyramids, but he found that his brand of choice’s nicotine content provided a much better cost ratio than the Camels that the baseball team smoked to unwind after practice and the Marlboros cheerleaders used to keep their appetite suppressed.

  After an eight-minute stint in traffic that felt like an eternity, Johnny was finally able to pull out of school property and make his way back home. The wind blew over his hand as he held it out his window to flick off the ash of his cigarette.

  Johnny threw the butt of his cigarette into the street before pulling into his driveway. His Dad’s BMW was gone as usual, but his moms Tahoe was still there.

  He walked into his house and immediately went for the fridge, grabbing the two-liter bottle of coke and taking it to the cupboard to get a glass and pour himself a drink. He finished pouring and as he raised the glass to his mouth and took a gulp Tabby walked out of her room and into the kitchen. She was wearing a black tank top with spaghetti string shoulder loops and a gold mini-skirt with black stockings and the black four-inch platform heels she had bought with her birthday money last April.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” Johnny said as Tabby grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder.

  “There’s a party at Jayden’s I’m going, Mom and Dad aren’t going to be home tonight. If they call tell them I’m at Cassandra’s,” she said looking at her reflection in one of the kitchen windows and giving her perfectly styled blond hair one last toss.

  “I know you like to dress nice for the first day of school and all, but you would never wear that to school, right?” Johnny asked.

  “Are you kidding, that school’s Nazi dress code can’t handle how hot I can be when I apply myself,” she smiled as she pulled red lipstick out of her purse and expertly applied it without even looking in her reflection.

  “Are you going to be home tonight?” Johnny asked, feigning giving a shit.

  “On a scale of one to ten, ten being fuck no, those odds are probably at a thirteen.” She said, cocking her hip “What about that weed we talked about?” she asked.

  “What about that money we talked about?” Johnny asked.

  “Ughhh, fine,” she reached into her purse and pulled out forty bucks, “What’s the unit of measurement you use again? Two pens?”

  Johnny shook his head and went to the couch to grab his book bag, he pulled out two blue Bic pens, the weakest of the strains he had, and exchanged them for Tabby’s cash.

  “Where do you get this money anyway?” Johnny asked as he took Tabby’s money and stuffed it in his pocket.

  “If you don’t ask me where I get my money, I promise that Mom and Dad won’t ask you where you get your money,” Tabby smiled as she made her way out of the house, her four-inch heels clicking on the hardwood floor leading to the front door.

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  “You know, Mom and Dad think you’re the good kid, right?” Johnny said.

  “That’s the most fucked up part about it,” Tabby put her hand to her chest, giving her brother one last look, “I am the good kid,” Tabby laughed as she opened the back of the pens and pulled the bags of weed from them and proceeded to stuff them into her bra.

  “Where are Mom and Dad anyway?” Johnny said as he put his drink on the kitchen table.

  Tabby was already on her way out, “Just check the note on the fridge, I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m not going to be home, so it’s your fault if the house burns down,” Tabby said as she opened the door.

  As Tabby left the house, she turned her head to say one last thing to Johnny, “By the way, there’s some big letter for you from a college or something,” Tabby said.

  Johnny walked back to the fridge and noticed an envelope clipped to the door by a magnet.

  Johnny opened it and read it in his father’s voice.

  Tabitha & Johnathan

  Your mother and I had to attend to some family business, ask no questions about it. We may be gone for a few days. Take care of the house, no skipping school, no parties.

  Johnny smiled at this exciting development. Having the house pretty much to himself for a variable amount of time would undoubtedly make his last semester a bit more interesting.

  “Thank you, Uncle Andre,” Johnny said, smiling. In Johnny’s family “Attending to family business,” usually meant that Constantine had to fly to Asia to bail Uncle Andre out some kind of trouble, legal or otherwise. This kind of business often took two to three weeks. Plenty of time for Johnny too, against his parent's wishes, party his ass off.

  Johnny folded the letter back up and threw it on the kitchen counter, then walked over to the table where Tabby had haphazardly tossed the day’s mail. He panned through a utility bill for his parents, a credit card offer for him, a credit card offer for Tabby, and came to a Manila envelope from UCLA. Johnny slowly ripped it open and reached into it. There was a booklet accompanied by a one-page letter.

  Dear Mr. Vincent,

  The University of California at Los Angeles has reviewed your impressive academic resume and with a swell of pride would like to extend to you an invitation to become a student at our great university. You have been accepted to the Anderson School of Business, and we look forward to your decision to pursue an academic career with us. Orientation forms and registration materials will be sent to you within the next four to six weeks.

  “Holy shit,” Johnny looked up, Tabby was gone, his parents were gone, Johnny was standing there in his kitchen alone. He had just been accepted to one of the most sought-after college programs in the state. Next year, he would be at UCLA, and his father told him he would pay for everything. He would pay for everything that is except room and board, his father told him he was more than willing to pay for Johnny’s education, but he was not willing to pay for a license to quote, party his irresponsible and reckless ass off. He could either commute to school, an hours drive so long as he didn’t take any classes that started around rush hour, or he could get a job, or two, and pay for the room on his own. Johnny wasn’t thinking about that now, he was going to college, his father didn’t go to college, and his immigrant grandfather certainly didn’t. Johnny would figure out how to pay for his dorm at a later time. Now it was time to celebrate.

  Johnny went back to the counter and reread the message. He looked up, and pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly pulling up a number. After two rings, Eddy answered.

  “Eddy, it’s Johnny. No, I don’t need a hook up right now I’m good. Listen, I’m having a little back to school party at my house, BYOB, other stuff will be provided. Everyone’s invited. Break out the Rolodex. This is going to be epic,” he said with a mile long grin across his face.