Page 2 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter two

Ryder

I’m stoned like a biblical whore with a joint wedged between my lips. Since summer started, there hasn’t been a day that I’m not numbing myself. I always thought my life was on the right path, but the choices I made threw a potato sack bag over my head and dumped me off on the wrong road.

It’s a little past midnight and I swing a leaky trash bag into the rusty dumpster reeking of bullshit and rotten pizza.

I’m ready to break out of this jail called a job, but it’s like digging a hole with a plastic spoon to freedom.

All night I’ve delivered wrong orders left and right in a shitty Honda that the Pizzeria is forcing me to drive.

The kitchen staff is tripping on acid and incapable of putting together a simple pepperoni pizza without screwing something up.

I light up the remainder of the joint, then pull out a handful of tips.

I’ve collected four Lincolns, and half a dozen quarters after ten hours.

A chuckle creeps under my breath at the irony of picking up a double shift for money and being thrown scraps.

I fold the bills and stow them in my front pocket.

I slide to the backside of the dumpster, inhaling a deep hit and letting the weed settle into my lungs until they catch fire.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket and muscle memory has me pulling it out.

Lovely. My ex sent me a video on Snap. Brittni.

I’m tempted to leave it unread, but curiosity gets the best of me.

She’s drinking again, and that’s not a surprise.

Throwing her head back, she’s downing a shot and sucking on a lime.

Pretty blonde hair tumbles over her shoulder blades, her rosy red lips beam into a smile.

Then Brody comes into focus and my blood runs thin.

He’s lifting a bottle of beer, cheering, and I can’t shake off the simple fact that she cheated on me with him.

All while he was dating my little sister, too.

Brittni always tasted like sugar, and I was always closer than the dress on her skin, but now I’m divided from her by the screen on my phone.

The single label hasn’t betrayed me as I scroll through pictures and videos of thirsty girls sending pictures of their cleavage and undies, but I can’t get myself to be interested in any of them.

A loud thump of a trash bag flies into the dumpster, and I peek over the edge, spotting Jared, my teammate – a wide receiver that cleat-chasers cling to. He is my best mate. “Are you working late too?” I ask, soaking in another hit and offering it to him.

“Yeah, it was a shitshow. I hate working during happy hour and on a Friday night.” He runs a hand through his curly brown hair and pries the joint from my fingers. Lucky him, he works across the street at a local bar, where he delivers shots and peanuts.

“While you’re getting chicks drunk, these dumbasses didn’t even put barbecue sauce on the wings.” I chuckle and relive the nightmare playing on repeat, but it’s always chaos here. “Twenty in tips, and I’m making six an hour.”

“I managed one-fifty tonight.”

“Shut up, man! All my orders were fucked. I had cooked dough. No sauce, no toppings, and it wasn’t even cut. They just put bread and banana peppers in the box, dude.”

Jared laughs in the midst of releasing a wave of smoke. “Just come work with me. You’ll have chicks riding you after your shift.”

He hands back the joint and I take in a bit more. The next wave settles into my bloodstream, and the tips of my fingers tingle. “No, I ain’t gonna work there with that prick.”

“Brody? You’re still not over him screwing your girl?”

“Fuck him and fuck her.”

“Dude, we start practice on Monday. You’re gonna have to let it go. Come on, I really don’t want a damn losing streak because your head is up your ass.” He licks his lips.

My skin turns cold. The ugly truth is, any girl worth getting with has already hooked up with Brody.

All summer, I’ve tried to wash myself clean of Brittni, knowing we will never be together after what she pulled.

Refusing to let the thoughts of her cheating run rampant in my brain again I change the subject.

“I shouldn’t have picked up the phone when Karen called.”

Jared chuckles. “That’s why you don’t pick up the phone. Her name is literally Karen.”

“I need the money.”

“Are the ‘rents on your ass again?”

I take off my cap and run a hand through my hair as I lean into the brick wall stained with grease residue. “I came home this summer and my dad was gone. Charlie doesn’t know when to quit. I was completely blindsided.”

“Damn... he really left?” Jared asks.

I take in a long drag and hold it in as long as I can until I’m coughing up a lung. As smoke billows out my nose, I say, “Yep. And for some bitch young enough to be my sister.”

“That sounds like an intense mid-life crisis. I’m sorry man. But I have to ask, do you know what your sister is in for tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

Jared puckers his lips as I hand him the rest of the joint. “Don’t be mad at me.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and my voice drops an octave. “What?”

He presses the joint between two lips and pulls out his cellphone, showing me his screen.

A video post shows Charlie screaming along with the lyrics of a heavy metal song in the Jeep.

My Jeep... that she stole. I glance into the distance where I parked and.

.. yep. It’s gone. I run a hand down my face.

My gaze goes back to Jared’s phone. Charlie’s taking pictures with Payton and the vodka they magically got at a gas station. And since they are being thieves tonight, I bet they stole that too. The cherry on top is her smoking a cigarette and flaunting it like candy.

“Fuuuck.” My head falls back. Freshmen and little sisters mixed have a gift of pushing limits, and Charlie is the queen of them. I’m positive I’ve witnessed the devil himself pocket her soul in a to-go bag.

The funny thing is that before I left for my shift, mom had a screaming match with her about not being responsible enough to move into the dorms. Charlie refuses to follow rules when she didn’t create them. She surrounds herself with stupid ideas and bad decisions.

“I overheard through the grapevine about a house party on the south side of town. You have to bring booze to get in. It’s Roulette dude.”

“I told her to stay home!” I shout and rake my hands through my hair, pacing back and forth. “Brody said he wasn’t gonna make them play.”

Jared scoffs with disbelief plastered on his face. “And you actually believed him?” He licks his lips, shaking his head at me. God, I’m a complete idiot. “You’re her brother, not her parent. You don’t always have to protect her.”

“Well, when neither of your parents wants the job, who else is going to do it?” I gnash my teeth together.

“I’m guessing you need a ride, then?” Jared asks.

“You’ve read my mind.”

“Ryder! Where the hell are you?” Karen hollers outside the kitchen door.

Jared blows out a puff of smoke and mouths the word shit.

He tosses the joint to the ground, smashing the remains with the tip of his converse.

We both reek of herbal skunk, and I honestly couldn’t care less.

I gotta tolerate Karen somehow. Every other word out of her mouth nags about our crummy night and the receipt machine spitting out another order for her to mess up.

“I swear to God, if one more thing goes south, I’m quitting! Who’s supposed to wash the dishes?” She screams loud enough to rupture an eardrum. A distant crash bangs around. “Someone clean these!”

She doesn’t realize that every half hour she needs a fifteen-minute smoke break. When I take one, the world is ending. “Get your ass in here before I write you up!” My capillaries are about to burst. It doesn’t help that the kitchen looks like a homeless man’s tent.

“Are you smoking behind that dumpster again? Get back in here!”

“I’ll wait for you.” Jared lifts his chin and dips.

“Okay,” I say.

I step out, staring at Karen’s fat fingers clenching her hips, and the one hair on the mole of her nose glares at me.

“What the hell is taking you so long?” She pushes back greasy blue strands of hair. “Who said you could have a smoke break?” She grumbles.

“I did,” I say.

“And I didn’t. It doesn’t take half an hour to throw out the trash.”

Huffing, I head back in and make a sharp right to the storage racks away from her high pitch voice badgering me.

I roll out several large black bags and she storms behind me as I replace the trash bags in all the bins.

“People here would like to leave on time, and you’re eating the clock. Where the hell is your deposit?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say.

I wrap up my closing duties and finish my shift. Karen collects my money, and I’m clocking out seconds later.

I walk along the sidewalk with orange streetlights guiding me to Jared’s hand-me-down Ford, sitting alone in the parking lot. The neon Taproom sign lights up the lot, while the P in Pizzeria flickers.

I crumble into the passenger seat with the door hanging open and the dashboard blaring its annoying beep. “You know where we’re going?” Jared asks, with his hands resting over the steering wheel.

“Yeah, give me a second.” I scroll through my contacts, knowing Payton is never three feet from Charlie, and she sucks at turning off her location.

“Are you stalking Payt again?”

I scoff. “Yep.” I don’t define myself as a stalker, but I can watch her every move by simply zooming in and out on my maps and finding her avatar. It pins her down on the south side of town, where the theme song is always police sirens.

“She’s pretty hot.”

“Yeah...” I text Payton, asking where she is, knowing she’ll leave me on read, and if she responds, she’ll lie to cover Charlie’s ass like always. “Let’s stop at the house so we can change. I reek.”

“Sure... but uhh, have you ever thought about hooking up with her?”

I curl my lip under two front teeth to hold in a chuckle. “Dude, shut up, and drive.” I point to the road while a pair of blue opal eyes sparkle in my memories.