Bottled Up Read Online Free Page A

period?” I asked him.
    â€œI’m there.” Slayer put his fist out and I hit mine on top of it. Then he put his Walkman headphones on and leaned back against Robert Hahn’s cement pillow. He had the damn music cranked so loud, I could hear the exact song he was blasting.
    The pictures in my head were slowing down. I didn’t see Fleming anymore, with her finger slamming into my brain. Giraldi’s hand on the phone was a blur. I couldn’t see Jenna watching me walk out of class . . . Coach Fredericks blowing his whistle . . . Mikey waving good-bye.
    â€œPip,” Johnny said, sounding like he had cotton in his mouth. “I figured out a way you can get some driving lessons.”
    â€œHm?” I had my eyes closed. I took a couple of quick inhales on the joint.
    â€œWe can get some cash together real easy for you if you want. One of those dorky driving schools, you know, with the signs on the roof, could take you on the road.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œMo is setting me up.”
    â€œWith a driving school?” I still had my eyes closed. I didn’t really want to talk.
    â€œI’m going to sell for him.”
    Mo is this guy in the Bronx who Johnny takes the train to see once or twice a week to pick up stash. I went with him a couple of times. Slayer takes the ride once in a while. But Johnny goes every week. He gets enough product to sell to the two of us, but I never heard of him dealing to anybody else.
    â€œI’m going to get me some serious money, Pip. I’m going to unload so much weed and coke and ecstasy for this guy, I’m going to be rich. You can get in on this with me if you want.”
    I opened my eyes and looked over at Johnny. He was staring at me like he really wanted me to go in on it with him.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. We never say no to each other, me and Johnny. If he wants to sneak into a movie, we go. If I want to kick somebody’s ass for giving me trouble, he’s right there. We don’t say no. We say I don’t know.
    â€œWhat do you mean, you don’t know. Forget money for driving lessons. You could get enough cash to buy your own wheels. Hell, if Giraldi kicks you out, we’ll buy you your own school. ”
    â€œI’m so wasted right now, Johnny. I can’t think about nothin’.”
    â€œI hear you.” He leaned back against the headstone.
    â€œI could use another bag now, though,” I told him.
    Johnny shook his head and shoved a small bag of pot at my chest.
    â€œHere,” he said. “But I’m not covering you forever. You’re going to have to get a job. Go price peas at the damn Stop and Shop if you’re not going in on this with me, but I’m not covering you forever.”
    â€œI’ll get you money for the bag.”
    â€œHow about for the last three I spotted you?”
    â€œIt’s coming,” I told him. But I didn’t have any paper money at all. I had a few quarters and a dime.
    â€œWe could be a couple of very rich assholes,” Johnny said.
    I took a last hit off the joint and flicked the rest away before it burned my thumb.
    â€œAnyway,” he said, “come out with us tonight. We’re crashing some cheerleader’s party. I’m bringing the bong and a case of Bud.”
    â€œWhat time?”
    Just when he said eight o’clock, I jumped up.
    â€œWhat time is it?”
    Johnny clicked his lighter in front of a cigarette. “Ten after five,” he said.
    â€œCrap,” I yelled, then ran my ass through the cemetery, jumping over a couple of freshly covered holes in the ground.
    It was after five.
    I forgot to pick up Mikey.
    I remember when my mother came home from the hospital with the baby. He was getting all kinds of presents he couldn’t even use yet—stuffed bears, trucks, blocks.
    I didn’t get anything.
    Mom looked like crap. She needed something but I didn’t know what.
    I guess