“Janice, where the fuck were you today?!”

“Cam, I’m so, so sorry I just—“

“This presentation was worth 20% of our grade! I called you twelve times! And now we’re both going to flunk! What the fuck, man?!?”

He paces the room, out of breath from yelling. He mumbles, anxiously muttering sunder his breath, unaware I’m still in the room.

“Oh, my parents are going to kill me! They’re going to kill me and send me overseas to boarding school where I’ll never see the light of day again! Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He stops pacing abruptly. He points at me, his eyes furious with tears. “Explain. Right now.”

I stutter, at a loss for words.

“You can’t keep DOING this shit to me, Janice! I’m not gonna put up with it anymore!” He starts pacing again, furious. I’m afraid he’s going to slip with how fa St he’s walking.

“First the funeral, then the violin recital, then that party, and now THIS.” He stops, panting, his scarred up hand resting against the banister.

“I just…I need answers, Janice. I’m tired. What on earth is up with you?”

Well, looks like the jig is up. He knows I’m hiding something. He deserves some kind of explanation, but how the hell do I explain…well, all of this? I scramble my brain, thinking of excuses, but nothing plausible comes to mind. What do I say?!

“Well? I’m waiting,” he says passive aggressively.

Should I just tell him the truth? Where would I even start? Telling him about the Nighthawk League could put both of us in harms way.

Still, I’m being backed into a corner here; I can’t just lie to him. He’s my best friend and I don’t want to lose someone again.

“You’ve heard of nighthawk, right?”

He sniffles and wipes his nose, looking up at me. “What?”

“Y’know, the bar.”

“The shady one?”

Uh…yeah,” I say reluctantly.

He gives me a look of shock and disbelief.

“No way.” His eyes widen. “Holy—my fucking GOD. You’re a drug dealer?!”

“What? No, not that!”