vol, ch 3: Burgers! Party! Celebrate before the system crashes, children...

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Rick and most of the Team were on the second floor, the party warming up. Old school punk rock blasted in the background. The girls chatted a storm or gamed like crazy on the sofas. The vibe was going strong even without Woo.

The Nerd had been seen downstairs speaking angry Korean into his phone. Sounded like he was in trouble with his dad or something. Rick hoped that wouldn’t lead to Woo bailing out early when tonight was a special Friday.

“Hey, dickhead, you’re gonna flip the patties, or do I need to take over?” Sammy’s scratchy voice pulled Rick’s attention back to the task at hand.

They were at the balcony with meat on the charcoal grill. It was Rick’s duty to cook while Sammy supervised.

Beyond them was the junkyard, a graveyard of abandoned cars and scrap metal. A gathering of human refuse was kind of poetic, even though Rick couldn’t put exact words to the symbolism just yet. Oh well, flipping the burgers was more important.

“So, you were saying something about your dad working you like a dog?” Rick asked, pressing the spatula on the juicy meat as wood chips crackled underneath. The scent of hickory and sizzling beef thickened the air. Mmm, fire and food.

“Were you paying attention this time?” Sammy asked.

“Sammy, how could you say that?” Rick replied. “I’m an eagle of perception. In fact, I was such an eagle I was sought after by the Eagle Scouts. But they weren’t eagle enough for me, however, so it didn’t work out.”

“Man, where do you come up with half the bullshit you say?”

“Well, it’s not by eating bullshit like Principal Hemmersbach,” Rick said.

“Fuck that pig. He keeps trying to slam me when he knows I can’t stop my fingers from doing what they do.” Sammy looked at his hands. “I still got your belt, by the way.”

“Of all things, a belt, Sammy?”

“I liked the buckle since it’s gold. Looks better on me than you, dweeb.”

“Yeah? I got it from a wee fellow in a hidden meadow. You might know him since he stands about yea big. Probably a cousin of yours.”

Sammy popped off another smart-ass answer, and Rick missed it because he was occupied by the black boy's image illuminated by the glow of the charcoal fire.

Samuel Crawford was an inch or two from being officially considered a dwarf. He was a little guy with most of his weight held in the baby-fat that defined his round cheeks. You wouldn’t think he was seventeen, from how scrawny and small he was until you looked into his squinty dark eyes and heard the words that came out of his mouth.

It was for this very reason that Rick had stumbled upon Sammy almost four years ago freshman year. He had thought someone left their little child at the wrong school and tried to do what people called a good deed. Sammy had rewarded him with a colorful array of cusses that got them both in trouble when a school official overhead. That was how the Team had started, all off a mistake, which was quite appropriate to Rick.

“You keep staring at me like that, and I’m going to punch you in the dick, Rick.” Sammy cocked his little fist.

“Cool it, my wee friend, I’m just taking a walk down memory lane.” Rick grabbed a plate from a table and started shoveling burgers onto it. “Remember how it was the two of us snickering in Mrs. Wisley’s class ninth grade year?”

“I wasn’t snickering. You were snickering and trying to pull me into it,” Sammy declared.

“That’s not how I remember it.” Rick shook his head. “It was a glorious occasion because that’s how we met Jac.”

“You can’t remember because you were staring at Jac’s ass.”

Ah, yeah, that class was extra hard because Jac was sitting right in front of him. “Well, I was snickering because you said something so delightful I couldn’t contain myself. You got us in trouble with Mrs. Wisley.”

“Motherfucker, you got us in trouble when you told our math teacher what we⁠—I mean, you⁠—were saying about Jac’s ass.” Sammy palmed his face, shaking his head. “Bro, your memories are a damn mystery sometimes, almost as mysterious as that freaky blue box I saw today.”

“Wait, what?” Rick lost his smile. There it went again! That damn blue box! Before he could get a more thorough answer from Sammy, the thread of their conversation predictably led to trouble.

“So what were y’all saying about my ass?” called Jac from the sofa. “If I remember correctly, that was the first time I got in trouble for popped Rick with a good one.”

But I fessed up and took all the blame. It hadn’t been anything noble. He had been in the wrong. But man… his cheek had smarted for a while after that left hook from Jac.

Someone paused the music, and all the chattering and gaming halted abruptly. An intense silence reverberated through the room as the girls zeroed in on Rick and Sammy.

Most boys would've crumbled. But not Sammy.

“Woman, we were talking about your ass, not you.” Sammy grabbed the plate of patties from Rick. “Now, shut the fuck up, and have some burgers. Your ass is starving, and everyone can hear it rumbling.”

Jac gaped, stunned. Sammy took the opening to keep going, taking the limelight off of Rick.

“Mad, you’re gonna have to make sure Dika gets two of these burgers, maybe three,” Sammy said, setting the plate on the coffee table by the buns and condiments.

Mad blinked nervously at Sammy.

“I know you're a giant and all, and you can out eat King Kong,” Sammy said, “but we can’t have Dika looking like Jessica Simpson on heroin.”

Mad clutched the game controller to her chest. Her grip on the controller looked tight enough to crush it at any moment.

Lucy shook her head at Mad and recontinued her game.

“I can feed my own self, Sammy, thank you very much,” Dika said, smiling.

“If that were the case, you wouldn’t look like the chicken bones I toss out to my rottweiler,” Sammy said.

“Hey, at least these chicken bones can get men who aren’t extras for The Lord of the Rings.”

“If you’re going to diss me, one⁠—choose a better franchise, those movies are crap. Two⁠—suck a dick because everything that comes out of your mouth is trash.”

Dika and Sammy went back and forth for a bit. Then Sammy shoved himself into a seat between Mad and Lucy and started ripping on them. Unlike Dika, who loved to go toe-to-toe with Sammy, or Jac, who would shut it down, the Goth and Psycho were easy targets since they weren’t solid in verbal dueling.

Predictably, Sammy pushed his luck, and Jac finally took action. “That’s it. Someone get me a bar of soap for this rude little boy. Lord knows I’m going to clean that mouth out one way or another!”

Jac flew over Mad and snatched Sammy by the ear. The party erupted into casual chaos as Jac wrestled Sammy. She tugged his ear. He pushed to getaway. They duked it out while all over Mad. The Goth stayed put under the action, her frustration and embarrassment visible on her face.

Cusses, yells, and laughter ensued, and Rick loved every moment of it. This was the essence of the Team, a bunch of teens cutting loose and being wild and authentic. And the night was just getting started as the time for the annual ceremony approached.

But something was wrong, and Rick couldn’t put his finger on the issue immediately. While staying out of the action, he counted his boys and girls. He made sure not to forget Lucy. Once he counted them and added himself, he concluded with six.

They were still missing their seventh⁠—Woo. And that wouldn’t do, so Rick went downstairs to find him. He searched the Smash Room. He searched out front. Then he went around to the back where they had a ghetto patio set up. Rick found Woo sitting in one of the dingy lawn chairs.

Woo dragged on a cigarette, the ember turning bright and basking his face in its orange glow. For a guy who seemed like the straight and narrow type, these moments where he was a rebel was a delightful sight.

Joon-Woo Kim had pale skin and sharp jawlines. Like a geekish K-pop idol. He was the second tallest, too, a few inches above Rick. With that said, he had a softer body with a happy belly that protruded slightly compared to Rick’s more wiry build.

Out of everyone in the group, Woo was the real oddball here. He had acceptance letters from Ivy League schools, invitations to parties from popular girls, and he could find more intellectual conversations with nerds like him⁠. Yet, he was here, having a smoke at the ghetto patio.

“I think my dad’s going to disown me,” Woo said. “I was supposed to talk to a recruiter from one of the Universities tonight. They wanted to speak to me about an intensive course I was slated for, and I guess I blew it for not being there.”

Rick slipped his hands in his pockets. “Should I be apologizing?”

“Nah, man. I haven’t told my parents yet, but I think I might go for community college here.”

“Really now? Shouldn’t you be, like, going to Oxford or something fancy,” Rick said. “You know, somewhere you’ll never see a fool like me making a mess of things?”

Woo put out his cig in the ashtray, stood up, and started for the front of the Hangout. “I guess what I’m doing can be perceived as self-destructive, but I assure you I know what I’m doing is right for me.”

“Do I look like I’m going to debate you on what’s right or wrong?” Rick asked.

“You were going to because you care.”

“Point taken, poindexter.”

When they started climbing the stairs, the party a racket of shouts and disses still, Woo stopped.

“Did you tell Principal Hemmersbach it was me?” Woo asked.

“Out of all people, you think I’ll be a traitor? You should know me better than that.”

“Wait, no, I don’t mean to offend or anything.” Woo waved his hands. “It’s just I feel guilty that you’re taking the fall for me. You’re always taking the fall.”

“It was my idea.”

“But I actually, well, put dog shit in Brigette’s bag.” The Nerd hunched over slightly as if he was expecting a rebuke for his bad behavior.

Yeah, he was definitely more of the straight and narrow type, even if he acted like a little rebel now. Maybe his time with the Team was a phase, but perhaps that could be said about all of them.

No. This was not a phase for Rick. This was life to him because who knew what waited for them after graduation⁠—after everyone graduated without him.

“Rick, is something troubling you?” Woo asked.

“Eh? Sorry, spaced out.” Rick shook his head. “Comes with the territory of being an evil mastermind. That’s how I get by when I get in trouble so much. Can’t get anything out of me when I’m all spaced out.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel guilty.”

“Don’t, Brigitte had it coming, and it made Mad a little happier.”

“Huh. Well, I’m glad then.” Woo smiled sheepishly. “Anyway, I’m excited to see how tonight’s festivities differ from others. It’s been, what, six months since I joined the Team, and today was the first time I drove Sammy to meet with his, as you call it, plug. What's the occasion?”

Rick nodded. Oh, you’ll see, alright.

“Hey!” Dika’s head popped around the landing above Rick and Woo. “What are we waiting for? I've wanted to get trashed since yesterday, and I can only watch so much of Jac whooping Sammy’s butt as funny as that is.”

“Sorry, sorry, we got held up,” Rick said. “Woo was telling me about the math involved on some girl’s tits, right Woo-o-boy?”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Really, Woo?” Dika reached down and yanked Woo up by the front of his shirt. Chest to chest, Dika poured on the charm. “Why focus on some lame broad when you can crunch those numbers on me…”

Woo stammered, his brain malfunctioning, it seemed.

“When I do this!” Dika blew a loud and slimy raspberry on Woo’s cheek. With the spell broken, the Flirt cackled like the witch she was and sauntered away.

Rick patted the poor boy on the back and guided him to a seat away from Dika and next to Lucy.

Lucy perked up, dropping her game controller to fiddle with her knife. She looked more thrilled now. Sammy was still sitting between Lucy and Mad, but he seemed noticeably disheveled and a little more tightlipped. Mad contained her fluster somewhat better than before, but her game controller was now laying in pieces at her feet. Arms crossed, Jac looked quite smug from her motherly handiwork on Sammy while Dika lounged like a cat on Jac’s lap.

The Flirt started chanting, ratcheting up the anticipation. “Ceremony! Ceremony! Ceremony!”

Rick took his place between the coffee tables and the TV. At his feet was a bookbag Sammy had hauled in with the necessary gear for the ceremony. He slowly unzipped it and sifted through its contents.

He then placed seven metal shot glasses on the coffee tables in front of each member, including himself. Forty-nine overall. Then he pulled out the poison of the night⁠—the green fairy… Absinthe.

“Um, I might be pointing out the obvious, but I believe that’s liquor, not beer.” Woo gulped.

“Hah! I’m smarter here than you, Woo, because that’s not liquor, that’s spirit!” Dika declared, arching her back over Jac. When Jac gave her a scalding look, Dika slumped, “It’s a spirit, not the Spirit!”

Rick smiled, keeping busy. He poured every shot glass up to an ounce. Once he finished one bottle, he got out another. There were forty-nine ounces of spirit on the coffee tables in no time, and each member of the Team was responsible for seven of them.

“Okay, this isn’t as bad as I thought,” Woo said. “I thought this ceremony thing was going to be stranger.”

“Woo, I know you’re a brainiac and all, but you’ll be a dumbass if you don’t knock on wood right now.” Sammy groaned into his hands.

Woo furrowed his brow. “I appreciate your worry, but your condemnation is misplaced. I can handle a hangover, even if it’s your so-called spirit.”

Jac and Dika snickered. Then Mad and Lucy started smiling when Rick got out the last bit of the ceremony. One by one, he dropped a shriveled morsel next to each column of shot glasses.

“Oh… my…” Woo said, mouth ajar. “That’s not weed.”

“It’s going to be okay, Woo. We’ve been building up your tolerance since you’ve joined,” Jac said. “Hence the binge drinking and other tomfoolery.”

When Sammy started to open his mouth, Jac gave him a deadly look. The Critic closed his mouth.

“Ahem!” Rick planted his foot on the edge of the middle coffee table, arms spread.

“Ladies. Gentlemen. This is the final hour. This is the most important moment in your life. Here, in this sacred place, we striking, dashing, bold few are defined not by our situation, not by our parents, not by our mistakes nor our weaknesses! We are defined by our very will to be what we fucking want to be!

“So before we proceed into the meat of things, Jac, order the consumption of shrooms.”

“Grab it,” Jac commanded, and everyone did as they were told, even Woo, who was sucked into the flow of things. “Lift it. Eat it!”

Rick flicked two-ounces of edible magic into his mouth and chewed. Hmm, it was salty this time around.

“Can I just say that this is really strange and that I’m not sure what I’m going to do when this kicks in?” Woo asked, flustered.

Lucy held a finger to her lips, silently shushing him, as Rick took back control of the ceremony.

“When I started the Team, the first members were me, Sammy, and surprisingly, Jac,” Rick said, smiling. “Then Dika joined us, followed by Lucy after that. Mad came up next, and now we have a full set, thanks to Woo! Team!”

“Team!” yelled everyone together except for Woo, who was a second late. He caught up when they downed their first shot, turned it over, and slammed it with a loud collective clack.

Mad struck hers down so hard it crumpled a little.

“I don’t do this for popularity or any specific agenda,” Rick said. “But I know we’re all here because something about the world around us doesn’t satisfy us. It’s too small. It’s too strict. It’s too fake, and depressing, and hurtful. I can’t say if the real world is here with us, ladies and gentlemen, but I feel the most real when I’m kicking it with all of you! Team!”

“Team!” Down went the second shot, the metal shot glasses clicking right after. This time, Mad didn’t bend hers. Lucy stuck her knife down on the coffee table, leaving her hands empty, which was a good sign. Dika was already getting super huggy and kissy as she clung to Jac, another good sign. Sammy was smiling ear-to-ear, and Woo was happily falling into rhythm with the ceremony, all doubts out the window. Goooooood.

He had speeches for each of them. For their characters, for their notable accomplishments that skirted outside of the iron rule of adults, and for surviving their personal demons that had… nearly taken some of them.

Maybe after they moved on without him, they would remember him fondly and call him every once in a while. Maybe when they reunite in the future, he would grow up and make something out of himself. Be a badass Major in the Marines or something.

Or maybe he should stop worrying about future possibilities he had no control over and live in this moment with the Team. For all he knew, this could be his last.