You've gotta understand that I'm not a bad guy.

I've maybe gone along with some things that I wasn't crazy about. But you've also gotta understand what's at stake for me here. I can't lose my place on the team. I'm here on scholarship. My mom could never afford to send me to this school. Football is all I have. It's all that's keeping me from staying at home with my mom, working my way up to assistant manager at the liquor store.

And James basically runs this team. He's been Mr. Quarterback for two years in a row. Coach loves him. Everyone loves him. Impressing him, being one of his boys, it's what's keeping me here, man. If he gets pissed at me, he could influence Coach and the whole team to turn against me. Then it's off the team, out of the dorms, back living with Mom, and I can't have that.

And it's not like I didn't have any fun that night. It felt pretty awesome just cruising around with the beers in James' car. The fact that he didn't seem to give a shit about getting caught or pulled over made me feel like I could maybe be like him for a night. You know, the kind of dude who struts through life doing whatever he wants because he knows that consequences don't apply to him. Guys like that…man, even when they have everything to lose, they never will.

I felt bad about the girl, though. I really did. She looked like she couldn't have been older than fifteen…maybe even younger. Damn, I don't know. I was pretty buzzed at that point. James was shitfaced…not that it changed his personality much.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's your name?"

James sped up the car so that she couldn't possibly have gotten away from us. The things was, though, it didn't seem like she wanted to get away. She was a pretty thing; blonde, athletic-looking. And she didn't seem embarrassed or afraid of James' bluntness and beer breath. I felt a hell of a lot more embarrassed than this girl looked.

"Name's Melissa."

James stopped the car next to her, and I guess she didn't magically hear my thoughts telling her to keep walking, because she stopped too.

"Melissa, huh?" James looked her up and down. Twice. "So, Melissa, what're you doin' out here tonight? This ain't exactly a safe spot, is it Andy?"

"No, it sure isn't, man." I didn't want to look at either of them.

"That why you guys are out here drinking and driving?" She sounded like…man, it's hard to pinpoint. It was kinda like she knew she should be scared, but she just wasn't.

"Get in." James sounded like he owned the world and every person in it when he said that.

I didn't want to piss James off, but I tried to distract him. "Come on, dude, she doesn't wanna get in the car. Let's just…"

"Let's go." She cut me off and got in the backseat.

James sped off and I suddenly felt almost sober.

"Sooo…Melissa…you like older guys, then, huh?"

"Jesus Christ," I muttered so quietly I don't think either one of them heard me.

"I'm gonna get us some more beer." James sped the car up, looking for a liquor store. I made brief eye contact with Melissa in the rearview mirror, wondering if this was some kinda setup; if I was gonna end up on To Catch A Predator or the six o'clock news.

"Just get out, okay?"

We were parked at the liquor store.

"What?" She sounded like she wasn't even listening to me.

"Get out." I turned around from the passenger's seat to look at her waiting there in the back, like a sitting duck resigned to her fate. "He won't even care that you're gone, trust me. Just get out of the car, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" She made the same face my little sister makes when she tastes something bad. "Don't call me sweetheart like you're my dad or something."

"Oh, I see." I cocked my head at her. "Melissa, is it? Is that your name? Never mind, I don't really care. Trying to piss of daddy? Stepdaddy? That what this is?"

"Don't act like…"

"Please," I snorted, "I can spot a poor little rich girl coming a mile away."

"But…"

"Just get out of the car."

And what do you know? She did; false bravery going with her the whole way, wobbling on heels that didn't fit.

I saw James stumbling back to the car, about to drop the twelve-pack of piss-water he just bought with his dad's credit card.

I was thinking two things, watching him grin like an idiot and struggle towards the car. First, I thought about my mom and my sister and hoped that maybe one time he'd pick the wrong girl, the wrong street, the wrong time…and maybe he'd have to feel what consequences are like.

I have to admit, I felt this second thing way more strongly than I felt the first. I know it'll seem less important, but I'm just being straight with you. I felt like I should walk my drunk ass into that liquor store and apply for a job.

Because, looking into James' bloodshot eyes, I knew I was gonna spend my whole life cleaning up other people's messes. Why not get paid minimum wage for it?