Once again, she’d turned the music off. We all just stared at her.
“Jorge, you should know better than to be grabbing on chicks.” I laughed.
Calm returned. Clyde and I were released. My nose was bleeding again, running down my chin. Somebody handed me a dirty dishtowel.
“Clyde, what the hell was that?” I demanded, wiping my face with the dishtowel. “I didn’t do s**t, man. I haven’t even seen you in forever. What the hell are you so mad about?”
“f**k you,” he growled, straightening out his clothes.
“It’s because I don’t come around anymore?”
“What are you, retarded? I could care less about that,” he scoffed.
“Dude, none of us would come around if we had anyplace better to be,” interjected Jorge. “Man, everybody was proud of you going to school and s**t. We thought you were doing grea
