Page 32 of Pride High 2: Orange

He only hoped that Diego would get used to him. During the next two stops, he tried to play it cool, like he was used to running drug deals. Diego made him stay in the car anyway. Ricky checked the glovebox, which was empty now.

“Do you want to come over to my house?” he asked when Diego returned.

“Are your parents home?”

“Probably.”

“Then no.” Diego clenched a fist, his knuckles cracking. “You still want to hang though?”

“Yeah! I’ll have to call my mom or she’ll worry.”

“I know where there’s a pay phone.”

Diego drove them to the historic downtown area of Pride, which was centered around Main Street. He parked in front of a bar called The Dusty Whistle. Ricky assumed it was the empty parking spot Diego wanted and was surprised when he walked right up to the bar’s door.

“Don’t you have to be twenty-one?” Ricky whispered.

Diego shook his head. “Eighteen.”

“Oh! It was twenty-one back in Colorado. I think.” Ricky had never been to a bar in his life. “Umm… Areyoueighteen?”

“Stop asking questions.” Diego opened the door and led the way inside. The man behind the bar tensed when he saw them. “He’s with me,” Diego said.

The bartender relaxed again.

“Thirsty?” Diego asked.

“Sure!” Ricky said.

A guy had just offered to buy him a drink! At a bar! That was a milestone for sure.

Diego grabbed Ricky’s shoulders and turned him toward a pair of pool tables on the far side of the room. “Wait over there.”

Ricky felt out of place as he put himself in the corner and glanced around. There weren’t many people sitting at the bar yet. No one was hanging out where he waited. He noticed some dart boards and was browsing the jukebox when Diego returned with two drinks. He handed Ricky a cola before taking a sip of a beer.

“Is that—” he began before rephrasing it in the form of a statement. “You shouldn’t drink and drive.”

“It’s alcohol-free,” Diego said.

“Oh.”

“Do you know how to play pool?”

“In theory,” Ricky said.

Diego grunted. “It’s easy. I’ll show you.”

And he did! Diego was surprisingly patient when explaining the rules and demonstrating techniques. Ricky struggled to hold the cue stick correctly and was thrilled each time Diego touched his hand to reposition his fingers. They managed to play a full round, the cloth still covered with most of the striped balls Ricky was supposed to get into each pocket, but it wasn’t about winning or losing to him. He was enjoying what increasingly felt like a date. Like when Diego asked if he was hungry and went to order burgers from the bar. Before he did so, he plonked a stack of quarters on the table. “Put some music on,” he said.

Ricky was happy to comply. They ate while being serenaded by some of his favorite songs, although he still managed to get a question in.

“Do they always let teenagers hang out here?”

Diego shook his head. “I know the owner. He brings his cars to my shop.”

They played another round of pool after they ate, then switched to darts, which Ricky didn’t like as much. It was during this that he noticed the fumes on Diego’s breath. He’d had a couple more of the “alcohol-free” beers and was starting to act kind of funny. Like when he gathered up all the available darts and threw them in quick succession, making the board look like it had been victimized by a porcupine.

“I forgot to call my mom!” Ricky said while staring at this. “What time is it?” He glanced around and noticed a clock. Almost eight. There was no sense in calling now. “I better get home.”