Page 96 of Pride High 3: Yellow

How could he forget? Despite being afraid of trees, Ricky had imagined himself in the woods behind the school countless times. He got down on his knees, undid the belt, and shimmied the jeans down. He saw boxer briefs that were overworked and begging for some time off. Ricky was the man for the job! He looked up at Diego and noticed the way his lip was snarling with hungry anticipation. Then he pulled the underwear down, revealing more dark hair and…

“Oh my god!” Ricky breathed.

“Think you can handle it?” Diego grunted.

Ricky bit his bottom lip… but only momentarily, because his mouth was needed elsewhere.

CHAPTER 16

April 2nd, 1993

Omar wiped sweaty palms on the black slacks that were part of his work uniform. Then he checked, for the fiftieth time at least, the equipment in the new camera bag he’d bought himself. He had extra blank tapes and a spare battery that was fully charged. The lens of his camcorder was freshly polished. He was ready for his first paid gig!

“There you are!” a familiar voice said.

He looked up and saw Mr. Dandy waddle into the employee break area. His boss was a chubby man with rosy cheeks and thinning gray hair. As far as Omar was concerned, Mr. Dandy was one of the coolest people alive. They were kindred spirits—creative visionaries who were willing to risk everything to make their dreams come true. Mr. Dandy was the genius behind Archie’s Pizza Pi, the man who had invented it all from the costumed characters to the delicious fucking pizza that Omar got to eat for free each shift.

“Are you ready to go?” Mr. Dandy asked, beaming down at the spread of camera equipment.

“Yeah!” Omar said, packing it up again. “I can hardly wait.”

He was about to film his first birthday party, a business idea he had pitched and that Mr. Dandy had embraced with equal enthusiasm.

“We still have about twenty minutes,” his boss said, consulting his watch. “Let me show you your new editing room.”

“My what?” Omar said, even though he had heard the man clearly.

“Come see!”

Mr. Dandy led the way to a small dark room filled with various TV monitors and humming VCRs.

“You’ll have to share this space with our security team,” Mr. Dandy explained, “but I have you set up in the corner here.”

Omar’s jaw nearly hit the floor. To anyone else, it probably looked like a big VCR was connected to a couple of monitors and a board covered with buttons. But to him… “That’s a Sony EV-S7000 Hi8 video editing deck! And you’ve got the RM-E700 controller too! Oh my god, dude!”

“You have experience with such things?”

“Well no, but I’ve got a stack of catalogs at home that I stare at like they’re nudie magazines.”

Mr. Dandy chuckled. “I had the man who shoots our commercials set this up. He said to call if you need any help. I taped his phone number to the desk.”

An industry contact? Omar felt like falling to his knees in worship. “I think I love you, Mr. Dandy. I have so much to figure out, but I’m going to learn it all. You won’t be disappointed. I promise!”

“Itwasquite the investment,” Mr. Dandy said while eyeing the setup. “But we’ve already had six different families sign up for this service. I believe you’re really on to something. Speaking of which…” He checked his watch again.

“I’m on it!” Omar said.

He glanced longingly at the video editing system on the way out the door, only tearing his eyes away when forced to. He could dowaymore with it than editing birthday parties. His own videos would benefit from a professional touch. The equipment Mr. Dandy had invested in was so expensive that Omar never would have gotten it as a present from his parents, no matter how much he begged, since it cost thousands of dollars.

He was more motivated than ever when reporting to the room reserved for private parties. A long table filling the space was decked out with character-branded plates, cups, and clusters of helium-filled balloons. Colorful paper streamers looped from the ceiling around the edges of the room. Any kid would be thrilled to have a birthday here. Omar knew that from personal experience. Recording someone else’s birthday would be just as exciting, and give the Hart family something truly special to look back on. He’d make sure of that. Omar was going to pour his heart and soul into making their video.

He positioned himself at the end of the room and trained the camera on the door as soon as he heard voices approach. The door opened, a mother ushering a little girl named Beatrice inside. Omar had made sure to study the reservation so he’d remember that detail. The little girl glanced around, her mouth in an “O” as she took it all in. “So pretty!” she cried at last, clapping her hands before running to the table.

Omar was mostly ignored as the rest of the family and a slew of kids entered. A few noticed him and became self-conscious, but he was used to that and knew how to get folks past it. He did a double take himself when he noticed Keisha. They didn’t know each other well. He’d seen her around school over the years, and she’d been at his New Year’s Eve party. Silvia spent a lot of time hanging out with her lately. Omar waved. Keisha’s arched eyebrow rose even higher. Then she sauntered over to him.

“Don’t you have anything better to do on the weekend than crashing a little girl’s birthday party?” she teased.

“Nope,” he replied, lowering the camera. “How old are you now anyway?”