Back at the Emporium, Wooderson stood next to his car with Clint. The hood of the Chevy Chevelle SS was popped open, displaying the engine. Wooderson wore the kind of smug grin that only a man with a fine-looking, badass automobile can have.

"Lemme tell you what Melba Toast is packing here, alright?" he said to Clint. "We got 411 PosiTrack outback, 750 double pumper, Edelbrock intakes, bored over thirty at eleven to one pop-up pistons, Turbo jet 390-horsepower, we're talkin some fuckin muscle." He clenched his fist proudly.

Clint was impressed but played otherwise. "Hey man, I know you got this thing out of a comic book. I saw the ad. Two ninety-five. Right next to the sea monkeys. You see that over there?" He pointed at his own car, parked a few spaces away. "That's White Lightning. See the shoes on that thing? You gotta get some tires." He indicated the Chevy's tires. "These are pizza cutters, man." In truth, Wooderson's tires were acceptable. The real reason Clint thought more of his car was because he paid cash for it after working at his neighbor's gas station for four years. Wooderson, on the other hand, acquired his car when he dropped a football scholarship and used the earnings to buy Melba Toast, opting to enroll in the nearby junior college instead.

Wooderson chuckled good-naturedly. It was always important to stay cool when someone took a jab at your ride, especially if the whole reason you were talking up your car in the first place was because there were girls nearby. And in this case, there were.

Darla and Simone sat in the back of the former's truck sharing a pint of whiskey and smoking cigarettes between gulps. Darla had just finished complaining about her mother, something she did often. The woman deserved it, after all, for all the sleeping around town she did. When Darla was only thirteen, she caught Mrs. Marks kissing one of Mr. Mark's junior employees. Ever since, she had used this as blackmail to secure flexible curfew hours and a generous allowance.

"So how's your momma?" she asked Simone. "How's Karen Jo?"

"Oh God, I can't believe I didn't tell you this! Check this out." Simone cleared her throat. "Last weekend, she went roller-skating with that group she's in."

"Parents Without Plans."

"No, Parents Without Partners." Simone paused. "Parents Without Plans?"

They both giggled and Darla waved her hand. "Anyway."

"Okay," Simone continued. "So she meets this guy who just moved into town. Dwayne. He's a cop."

"Does he have a mustache?" asked Darla.

"Yeah."

"He does? Oh no!"

They laughed and hi-fived. Simone said, "And he drives a motorcycle!"

"Agh!" Darla laughed harder.

"So, he's got this daughter Kelly, she's sixteen. She's gonna go to school with us next year. Wants to be a cheerleader, you gotta get her."

Darla nodded. "Right on. I will get her."

Simone took the pint and sipped. "So, they want us to get to know each other, so last night, they're going out on a date. He comes by to pick up my mom, and he drops off Kelly." She rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to hang out with her, and I go, 'Wanna go out back and roll a number?' Do you know what she says to me?"

"What?" Darla reached for the pint. "Do I need a drink for this?"

"Yes." Simone waited for Darla to take her drink before revealing Kelly's awful reply. "She goes, 'Up your nose with a rubber hose!"" Simone then made a sound like a dying walrus, which in her mind closely resembled Kelly's laugh.

Darla rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. God."

Simone shook her head.

"John Travolta's fine, though," Darla admitted. "He's a fox."

"You know it," Simone agreed. She took another swig from the pint. Over by the Emporium's entrance stood Jodi, Kaye, Shavonne, and Sabrina. They leaned against the wall aimlessly. Probably, like Simone and Darla, they had grown tired of driving with no destination. Simone cast Jodi a dirty look, but the latter was too busy talking animatedly with her friends to see it.

"I'm not all surprised you have a crush on Don," Jodi was saying to Shavonne. Contrary to the signals—or lack thereof—Shavonne gave Don all day, she felt in her bones they were about to be 'on again,' where they had been off for a few weeks now. "He's an idiot. You know what he did in class the other day? He always has this system where he cheats off the person next to him and pays them five dollars if he makes an 'A,' four dollars for a 'B,' three dollars for a 'C,' you know. Well, he gets back his test and he made a 'D.' He was so mad at the guy he cheated off. He said, 'Why didn't you tell me you were stupid?'"

Shavonne rolled her eyes. She didn't really care what shenanigans Don got up to in relation to academics. What pissed her off was when he flirted with other girls, especially when he knew she was in earshot and would become jealous.

Jodi glanced in the direction of Darla's truck. She saw Simone, which made her think of Pink. She murmured, "Can you believe we're seniors?"

Kaye shook her head. "Not at all. Even during the freshmanizing this afternoon. It didn't feel right."

"Yeah, like we were imposters or something."

"It's like, our seniors, now they were seniors. Nina Dralane, Kim Cook…that was the real thing. Us, I don't know about."

"Really. It feels to me like we just graduated junior high." Jodi glanced pointedly at Sabrina, who was looking elsewhere but clearly listening intently to every word.

Kaye got a deathly serious look on her face. "At the senior's graduation the other night, seeing them all in a bunch? This weird panic passed over me. I thought of just this town, then all the high schools in the state, then the whole country. Millions of us that will graduate next year and be flooded into colleges and the real world. It's like there'll be too many of us. At some point it can't grow anymore, it just goes bust. There won't be room for any of us."

"You know, I always think like that." Jodi smiled. "You guys ever think about other kids our age around the country? What they're doing, what they're like, stuff like that."

Shavonne gave an exaggerated nod. "Oh yeah, I know exactly what you guys mean. Do you ever think somebody took the whole earth and shoved it inside my two best friends' heads, and every time they open their mouths, the ocean drops out? Ever think like that?" She sighed. "You're so serious."

Kaye in particular realized this about herself but didn't think it was a bad thing, or even an annoying thing. To her, it made sense to be serious. It made sense to consider big ideas and stand up for what you believe in and all the things Shavonne was either too lazy or too apathetic to do. However, Shavonne would not go on to write a successful series of subversive romance novels throughout the Eighties and all the way into the early 2020s like Kaye would.

After a moment, Shavonne hopped on board the train anyway and asked, "You ever think 'what's the guy I'm going to marry doing right now?'"

Kaye smirked. "The guy you're going to marry is probably just going into prison."

"Right."

Jodi tapped both her friends' shoulders. "You guys, look."

Kaye and Shavonne followed her gaze. A car was pulling into the parking lot. In the passenger's seat was Stacy Woodward, a girl in their class. At the wheel was her rumored boyfriend.

"This guy is like twenty-five or something," Jodi whispered.

Shavonne nodded. "Her mother knows nothing about it. You know what she said to me the other day?"

"What'd she say?"

"She told me they're 'working up to it.'" Shavonne laughed quietly. "Isn't that great?"

Stacy said goodbye to her boyfriend and walked toward the Emporium. The senior girls wiped the grins from their faces and acted casual.

"Hey, Stace!" Shavonne said. "What's happening, man?"

"Hey," Stacy said. "How's it going, guys?" She joined their little group without leaning against the wall, without really falling into their ranks. It was this that tipped Shavonne off. She took a better look at Stacy and realized everything about her was different. The way she made or avoided eye contact at any given second. The way she smiled, like she had a secret.

Shavonne's eyes widened. "You did it?"

Stacy's smile grew a little bigger.

"You did it!" Shavonne squealed. "Oh my God, you little slut! Congratulations!"

Jodi and Kaye leaned forward with interest. As she began to understand what the older girls were discussing, Sabrina became a little nervous.

Stacy shyly tucked her hands into her pockets. "Oh my God, these past two hours of my life I'll remember forever."

"Two hours?" Jodi nudged her, looking every bit the junior high student she earlier said she felt like. "What was it like?"

"Uh…" Stacy shrugged. "I mean, it kinda hurt a little, but…"

"Yeah, a little bit?" Shavonne spoke sympathetically, being the only other girl there who understood. "But what was it like?"

Stacy giggled. "It was kinda big."

All the girls except Sabrina made high-pitched noises of delight and curiosity.

"That is so cool," Shavonne said. Don's had been kinda big too.

"He said we're gonna do it again next week." Stacy held her head high with this proclamation.

"Alright! You lucky little girl."

"Yeah. Hey?" Stacy put her finger to her lips. "Sh."

"Oh no, I would never tell anybody," Shavonne said. At least, she didn't think she would. Not many people, anyway. She would tell Don, because she told him most things. And probably Darla or Simone. But no one else.

"I'll see you guys later," Stacy said, and headed into the Emporium.

The girls continued to loiter. Shavonne took out a cigarette and borrowed a light from Kaye. Jodi found a bottle cap on the ground, held it between her finger and thumb, and started trying to shoot it. Sabrina watched a while, then spotted another cap and copied Jodi.

"This is sad." Kaye sighed. "Shouldn't we be doing something else?"

"Yeah, like what?" Shavonne asked.

"I'm bored. Let's split."

"Where do you wanna go?"

As this back-and-forth began, Jodi saw Pink, Wooderson, and Mitch walking out of the Emporium. She called Pink's name and he joined her, leaning one arm against the wall. "Hey," he said, trying to hide his delight in finally bumping into her.

"You hear anything more about a beer bust?" Jodi asked.

That meant Don was spreading the word. Good thing at least one other person was as serious about getting the party off the ground as he was. Pink jerked his thumb at Wooderson. "Talk to this man right here."

Wooderson smiled his foxy smile. "Patience, darlin. Patience."

Jodi smiled. Eager to have her aim that smile at him instead, and let her know he was a man of his word, Pink started catching her up on his evening thus far. He paid careful attention to detail when it came to the story of his rescuing Mitch.

Wooderson stood on the other side of the Emporium's doors from the girls, Pink, and Mitch. Pickford, Slater, and Kyle were just returning from their cruise. Kyle got out of the car and went inside the Emporium. Pickford and Slater lounged inside the Pontiac with the doors open. Wooderson walked over to chat with them.

Mitch, meanwhile, ignored his sibling and walked over to Sabrina, happy to finally see someone as wide-eyed and baby-faced as he.

"What're you doing here?" Sabrina asked, surprised.

"I was just about to ask you the same question."

"Heard you got busted."

Mitch shrugged. "Oh…yeah." He wondered if this would be all he was known for in the future. Mitch Kramer, the guy who got busted that one time.

"They just got Hirschfelder, too."

"Really?" Mitch wondered if Carl and Tommy were still unscathed. "Like how bad?"

"Bad." Sabrina lent a lot of weight to the single word, because she truly believed it was bad. Her mind kept replaying the image of poor Hirschfelder bent over, getting clubbed by those much bigger boys. The eggs and condiments and even the forced marriage proposal seemed like nothing in comparison. Still, Sabrina had only seen this one particular hazing, and with no other frame of reference could not possibly comprehend the fact that O'Bannion and Benny were capable of far greater brutality.

As if reading her mind, Mitch asked, "Was it O'Bannion?"

"Yeah."

"God, I hate that jerk." He pinched his nose with all the fingers on his right hand—an awkward habit he had developed over time. "So…what have you guys been doing?"

Sabrina shrugged. "I dunno. Driving around, mostly." She wished there was something cooler to report. The funny thing was, as long as she didn't have to explain the seniors' choice of pastime out loud, it actually did seem cool to her. She had been having fun, she just didn't know how to properly translate her enthusiasm into words. Little did she know how similar Mitch's experience had been so far, and how he would have agreed with her. She indicated the older Kramer. "I didn't know Jodi was your big sister."

Jodi turned away from Pink for a moment, eyeing Mitch and Sabrina with mock suspicion. "Hey, I hear my name over here? You guys talkin about me?"

The younger kids chose not to reply. Jodi put her arm around Mitch. "Hey, kiddo. Heard they got you pretty bad."

Mitch wished she wouldn't act so motherly around his peers. Sabrina wasn't a super-close friend or anything, but right in front of Pink and Wooderson?

Jodi shook her head. "Man, I asked them to take it easy on you. I can't believe they did that."

Son of a bitch. His original guess was correct. "Man!" Mitch groaned, looking at Sabrina as if to say, Can you believe this shit? He shrugged Jodi's arm off his shoulders. "God, no wonder!" He asked Sabrina, "Where'd they find Hirsch?"

"I dunno, walking around the rec center, I think."

Mitch had forgot all about the end-of-school dance. If that's where his friends were, he didn't figure he would manage to see them again until tomorrow. He hoped he was wrong, though. Sometime between arriving at the Emporium and hearing about Hirschfelder's fate, he had started to cook up a plan. Most of the details were still fuzzy, but walking around under Pink's protection had begun to change Mitch. It was making him a little braver and a little craftier. If he could get together with Carl and Tommy again, he was sure he could put in motion a kind of scheme…one that would end with a certain big, dumb senior getting his well-deserved comeuppance.

Darla and Simone walked up to the Emporium's front. Pink and Jodi both instinctively stood a little further apart. Simone hardly looked at Pink as she walked in, but Darla slunk up to Wooderson and mimed a sexual thrust as a greeting. Wooderson spanked her in return, and Darla followed Simone inside with a cocky look on her face.

With both her enemies gone again, Jodi returned to standing almost under the arm Pink was using to lean against the wall.

The Sweet's "Fox on the Run" came with O'Bannion's Plymouth as it screeched into the parking lot. Mitch and Sabrina instantly tensed, but the car was only dropping off Don.

O'Bannion's voice rang out from his car. "Hey Slater, you fuckin hippie! Gimme drugs, man!"

From where he sat in the Pontiac, Slater shouted back, "Get some from your mother, man!"

"Yeah, we just bagged your mother!"

"Okay! Fuck you, dickhead!"

The Plymouth drove away.

Don scurried over to the Emporium's front. Deciding to try a different approach with Shavonne, he ignored her completely in favor of Wooderson. "Man of the woods, what's going on? God, I haven't seen you in so long!"

Wooderson clapped his hand against Don's. "My man, what is happening? Long time, no see."

Pink and Mitch said goodbye to the girls for now and walked over to join them.

"What've you been up to?" Don asked.

Wooderson shrugged. "Same old shit, man. Working for the city." Somehow any answer he might have said would have sounded cool being spoken from his lips. It sounded cool to Don, Pink, and Mitch, anyway. In fact, Wooderson's city job was merely as the photo machine operator for the driver's license bureau.

"Working man, huh?"

"Been thinkin about gettin back in school, though."

"Back in J.C., something like that?"

Wooderson nodded. "Yeah, man. That's where all the girls are, right?" As if to prove his point, a girl with a nice butt walked out of the Emporium and all four young men followed her with their eyes until she reached her car. "But on the other hand, man, I'd just as soon keep working. Keep a little change in my pocket. Rather than spend my time listening to some dipshit who doesn't know what the hell he's talkin about anyway."

"I know what you're talkin about," Don agreed.

Wooderson glanced over at Mitch, perhaps for the first time all night since picking him up. "Say, you're a freshman, right?"

"Yeah," Mitch said.

Wooderson grinned. "So tell me, man, how's this year's crop of freshman chicks looking?"

Don and Pink laughed, and the former said, "Wooderson, you're gonna end up in jail sometime really soon. I know that for a fact."

Where Wooderson would actually end up was quite different. After Pink, Don, and the rest of their class graduated high school, Wooderson would find himself without a reason to keep returning to his old hangout. Instead, he would graduate from hanging with high schoolers to hanging with college students. For the next eight years, he would drive around the country, enrolling in different colleges under different-but-similar names like Dennis Wayne and Daniel Wiloughby. He would play college football and baseball, go to college parties, and sleep with college girls until eventually, while under the name of Wiloughby, he would be found out by some eagle-eyed college administrator. Here for a good time, not a long time, he would say. After that, he would end up in New Orleans working and living with his uncle, a racketeer named Jimmy "Angles" Beausoleil.

But for now, Wooderson merely waved off Don's remark. "Nah, man. I tell ya…that's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age."

"Yes, they do," Don chuckled. Like Wooderson, he had loved high school girls since long before he was in high school and would probably love them a little too long afterward.

Pickford poked his head out from the driver's side of the Pontiac. "You guys wanna go for a spin?"

"Yeah." Don pointed at Pink. "Shotgun!"

"Aw," Pink said.

"Wooderson?" Don asked.

Wooderson shook his head. "I'm here, man." He still had preparations for the beer bust to attend to.

Pink headed for the Pontiac. "You gonna come along?" he asked Mitch.

Mitch had no idea where else he would go, but tried to play it cool, as he'd been advised. "Uh, yeah. Why not?"

"You boys have fun, now," Wooderson said.

Slater hopped out of the Pontiac's passenger seat, but blocked Don from climbing inside. "Listen," he said without a trace of irony in his voice. "I'm gonna give you shotgun. But I want you to know it's because only 'cause I'm goin inside. You keep that in mind."

"Got it," Don said.

Satisfied, Slater met Wooderson next to the Emporium's entrance. "Hey man, what's happenin?"

"Play a little foosball?" Wooderson asked.

"Yeah!"

"Alright."

As Mitch climbed into the backseat next to Pink, his foot hit something hard. He leaned down to investigate. "Hey man, whose bowling ball is this?"

"It's yours, man," Pickford said carelessly. He popped in his ZZ Top eight-track and peeled out of the lot.

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