That night they stayed up until morning mostly talking bullshit. The sun rose turning the sky, pink, orange, and yellow.

"Whoa," Stan murmured. "Nature sure does put on a good show."

Rick sighed. "I've seen better, when I was a kid in Puerto Rico."

"Do you miss living there?" Stan asked.

"Naw, I miss what it was, not what it is now," Rick said.

"You never tried to go back?" asked Stan.

"Fuck yeah I did," Rick said. " I ran away twice, when I was nine and when I was thirteen, trying to get back. Mostly Mom had me watched like a hawk."

"Did you get there?" Stan asked

"When I was nine, we're in California, the school year is ending, my mom is going to ship me off here as always. But I tricked her into letting me go by myself," He said. "I got as far as the Florida Keys before I got caught."

"Long bus ride?" Stan asked.

"Sorta," Rick shrugged. "I ran out of money in Texas and had to thumb it to Florida, some shit happened to me on the road, but I survived."

There was a darkness in Rick's eyes when he mentioned 'some shit' Stan wondered what that was, but he decided not to ask.

"Second time?" Stan asked.

"I got to Puerto Rico, my Abuela was dying and I wanted to see her, she was the only person I ever knew who got me," Rick said. "I stayed three months with Papa and Abuela, it was great! I said goodbye to Abuela. Then Mom found me, and told Papa the truth, and the coward sent me back with her. Didn't matter later that year, after my growth spurt I was too big to take up. And I ran away, never saw the bitch again."

"So what about your Dad?" Stan asked.

"Him? Loser. He fucking gave me up again to her. He was disappointed I lied to him, asshole. He valued conforming more than his own son." Rick said. "As far as I'm concerned I don't have a Mom and Dad, I had a donor and an incubator."

"Wow, that's harsh Sanchez," Stan said.

Rick got up glared at Stan. "Early on all of us learn that we can either be loved and accepted or whole."

"Which one did you pick?" Stan asked.

"Guess," Rick said and walked back to the house.

Stan got up and followed, but he wondered about being whole or being loved. He'd been as whole as he could his entire life, and look what it got him, no brother, no family, broke, living off the charity of a 'friend' in the middle of fuckin' nowhere. Maybe being loved for a change would be better. But then he remembered he wasn't a genius like Rick or even as smart as Ford. So what did he know? Stan slept through most of that day. When he got up it was six o'clock at night. When he finally wandered downstairs Rick was sitting at an empty kitchen table looking almost as tired as Stan felt, staring at a can of old canoe beer in a disconnected way.

"Hey," Rick said.

"Hey," said Stan."What's for dinner?"

"This is Mrs. P's day off, she does uhhh family shit," Rick said. "So no food."

"What are we gonna eat?" Stan asked.

"L-let's go into town and get a pizza at this place, it's called Jimi's," Rick said. "I'll drive cuz you're not gonna find it on your own."

"Sounds good to me," Stan replied.

Jimi's was a modest flats-roofed red building with a black lettered sign that had a drawing of a mustachio'd Italian chef throwing a pizza above his head. When they walked in the joint Stan glanced up, the girl behind the counter was a knock-out blonde and her light blue shirt was unbuttoned just enough so anyone could see her cleavage. She looked beyond bored as she eyed them. Rick was smiling at her, leaning over the counter attempting to flirt. The girl just looked annoyed and rolled her eyes, the bell on the door jingled. Who should walk in but Irish Mike, in the flesh and large as life. He yelped, and Irish Mike startled. An idea flashed through Stan's head maybe if he beat up Irish Mike, put the fear of god into him, he wouldn't tell Big Lou Stan was here. It was worth a shot. Stan leapt at Irish Mike and the man hurtled out the door. Stan gave chase, but it was too late, Irish Mike's orange dodge was peeling out of the parking lot.

Cursing Stan re-entered the pizza shop. The girl looked just as bored, and Rick glared at him.

"Pines w-w-what was that about?" Rick asked

"Uh nothing." Stan lied.

"Right," Rick said sarcastically. "Whatever it is, I don't really care. Just ordered us some pizza, olives, anchovies, and pepperoni."

Stan sighed, "Sounds disgusting."

"Next time be here, if you want input on the pizza," Rick girl at the counter was now smiling at Rick. She went in the back came out with boxed pizza. "See ya later Jenny."

He winked at her and she smiled winked back.

In the car Stan asked, "What was that about?"

"Jenny's gonna come over after her shift, wants to party with us." Rick said.

"Really?" Stan sighed

"Hey don't worry, she's bringing her friend Gloria," Rick added. "Plenty of chicks to go around."

"Are they even legal? Anyways, I thought you were gay," Stan asked.

"Does it matter if they are? I swing both ways Stan, " Rick said

"I don't want my ass kicked by some girl's hick Dad," Stan grumbled.

"You won't." Rick said. "Cuz I'll vaporize them."

"With what, a laser gun?" Stan answered sarcastically.

"Yep, Rick said.

Stan sighed and grumbled. "Between this and crappy pizza."

"Hey if you don't wanna party, fine, go pout in your room," Rick said.

"What and miss out on the action, ha fat chance," Stan said. "By partying you mean drugs right? They'll definitely be drugs, right?"

"Yep," Rick sighed, "Panties don't drop without 'em."

"Heh, right," Stan agreed.

Worried thoughts chased each other through Stan's brain and he was silent as they drove so Rick turned up the radio, it was Creedence Clearwater singing about a bad moon rising, and Stan's unease grew. If Irish Mike knew he was here then Big Lou would know soon and the last thing he needed was his legs broken, or worse.