I could be nice. I could be a nice person, to the right people, in the right moment, under the right circumstances. If God could walk amongst men, and the devil was once an angel, I could play nice on a full moon.

"He won't get in the way will he?"

"My cousin? No. He doesn't know anything."

"It needs to stay that way."

"I have more to lose."

"Then don't lose it."

Nathan, my partner in adolescent activity, saw fit to lecture me in the middle of a hand job. He worked a register for Taco Shack, so from time to time we hung out in the food court bathrooms. It was always slow Sunday mornings. I came by to pick up my earnings from our last job, but he was adamant about getting my pants down. In the corner of the tiled room I was holding the wall while he worked me over on his knees. It was a welcomed greeting after the abrupt arrival of my cousin, but I wasn't stupid.

"Where's my cut," I grunted.

"Give me a minute," he said without looking up to meet my eyes.

"You never try this hard unless there's a problem," I argued.

"It's not a problem."

"But it's something?" I said and caught his wrists to make him let go of me.

The room was a haze as I fought my impending release long enough to pull up my pants.

His hands were wet, but I wouldn't let him turn to wash them until I got an answer.

"I spent your half," he said and with an exhausted sigh I let him go.

He left the stall, and after zipping up my pants I followed behind him.

"We talked about this," I nagged.

"I needed it."

"I need it. I earned it."

"You hit a few keys on a computer. I sold the goods. I sold the answers. I hustled my ass off," Nathan argued while he washed remnants of me from his fingers.

"You can't take my cut," I said.

"Without me, you wouldn't have a cut."

"I don't need you."

He chuckled smugly before remarking," you don't know what I do. You don't know people. You don't know shit, so be happy I work with you at all."

Hell had nothing on teenage rage, but I had never been in a real fight before. It wasn't my style. I was better than that. Regardless, his smug attitude kept flames over my head.

"What? You gonna hit me?" He said before drying his hands on my shirt.

I shoved him away, but he laughed on his way to the door.

"Calm down. I'll get you your money after the next test. I got people asking for cheat cheats already. It'll be a good season."

"We're done," I said.

Don't be dramatic. Do your part and I'll make us whole later," he added.

That cavalier smile he flashed on his way out was the nail in my thumb. That look stuck with me for hours.

"So whos your boyfriend?" Shawn asked.

He and I were on our way home. It wasn't even noon yet.

"What?!" I nearly swerved us into a ditch but he caught the wheel before an accident happened.

Laughing he added, "The guy you spent an hour in the bathroom with."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

As best I could, I swallowed my face and kept my eyes straight.

"Is that why we didn't go to church?"

Was he following me?

"Did you get clothes," I changed the subject.

"I won't say nothing about your boyfriend," he said and turned his attention from me to the window like it was casual conversation.

"I don't have a boyfriend! I'm not a," I stammered until I pulled over.

He raised an eyebrow, but it felt sarcastic.

"Why are you here?" I asked bluntly.

"You drove, didn't you?" he answered like I was missing screws.

"Not here. Why are you back in Texas?"

"Grandma died, I told you."

For once, he wasn't grinning. The game had gotten old and I wasn't playing anymore.

"If your back to fuck me," I started but he interrupted, "I'm back because there's nowhere else to go."

My hands rang the steering wheel. Was he lying or was I shooting at the wrong can?

"I won't tell nobody," he repeated.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Sure cousin."