My Kind of Crazy - Robin Reul Page 0,30

panic that someone will see us too.

She shoves something in my hand as I pass her. I look into my palm. It’s a red matchbook with “Lombardi’s Liquors” scrawled across the front. I flip it open and it’s empty. All of the matches have been used. I shove it in my front pocket. She smiles at me and says, “I guess it’s true what they say. Children really shouldn’t play with matches.”

And then she’s running ahead of me and I’m running after her, and my heart is pounding with adrenaline. Even if it’s only for a couple of hours, we don’t have to answer to anyone except ourselves. For the first time in a long time I feel free. I have no idea where we’re going, but it really doesn’t matter. Maybe Peyton’s dangerous, maybe she’s crazy, but whatever she is, I want to follow her and find out.

10

Even though ditching school two periods early is hardly jacking a car or robbing a bank, I feel kind of badass about getting away with something I shouldn’t have. If the last two weeks are any indicator, I’m becoming somewhat of a pro in this department.

The only problem is that between the three of us we have no car, a stick of gum, and about three dollars in change, so our options are limited. We end up at Ziggy’s sharing an order of chili cheese fries. Peyton has never been there before, and she points to the giant bell hanging from the wall by the cash register.

“What’s that for?” she asks.

We tell her about the How High burger, how every time someone orders one, they ring the bell as they bring it out, and how someday Nick and I are each going to order one, finish it, and get our pictures on the wall.

“You seem pretty serious about this,” she says.

“There is nothing not serious about a How High burger,” Nick says as he stuffs his mouth full of fries. A lone strand of cheese dangles precariously from his chin, but neither of us has the heart to tell him it’s there. It’s far too amusing.

“The name alone. It’s like a dare.” I drain my water, then shake the ice in my cup, hoping it will inspire the waitress to stop reading her National Enquirer and actually bring us refills.

“It sounds disgusting,” Peyton says.

“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Your face could be up there too. Hank and I are going to be legendary. Just sayin’. Before we leave this town, our pictures are going to be up on that wall.” Nick says “we” but I don’t correct him. Not here in front of her, but the fact is he’s the only one of us who has any hope of getting out of this town anytime soon.

The three of us leave our money on the table and head outside. We’re still good on time but have zero funds left, so we start walking and talking about random crap.

“What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever seen?” Nick asks as he picks a leaf from a low-lying branch in our path.

No-brainer. “That would definitely be Joey Tuscaluso picking his nose in seventh grade and sticking the boogers under his desk. By the end of the year, there must have been two hundred of them under there,” I say as Nick howls like a frickin’ hyena.

“I remember that guy. What ever happened to him?”

“Who knows? Probably got a job at the Kleenex factory.”

“The grossest thing I ever saw was my mother having sex with this guy who came to fix our TV,” Peyton says flatly, and both Nick and I abruptly stop laughing.

“You had to watch your mom have sex? That’s messed up,” Nick says.

“Our TV broke so this repairman arrived. Long, greasy brown hair, goatee, tats up and down his arms. Mom must not have had the money, but clearly they worked out a payment plan, because I come out of my room to get a drink of water, and there they are, going at it on the couch. They were both totally into it.”

Nick and I groan. “Nasty. Did she see you? What did your mom do?” I ask.

Peyton has our full attention, and she seems to be enjoying it. She blows her bangs out of her eyes and smiles. “Nothing. She looked right at me and put a finger to her lips, like I should be quiet. You’d have to know my mom, but this might be one of the least shocking