Less Than Zero Read Free

fucking New Hampshire too long,” he mutters. “No fucking chili.”
    I don’t say anything and notice that the walls have been painted a very bright, almost painful yellow and under the glare of the fluorescent lights, they seem to glow. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts are on the jukebox singing “Crimson and Clover.” I stare at the walls and listen to the words. “
Crimson and clover, over and over and over and over
…” I suddenly get thirsty, but I don’t want to go up to the counter and order anything because there’s this fat, sad-faced Japanese girl taking orders and this security guard leaning against another yellow wall in back, eyeing everyone suspiciously, and Trent is still staring at my Fatburger with this amazed look on his face and there’s this guy in a red shirt with long stringy hair, pretending to be playing the guitar and mouthing the words to the song in the booth next to ours and he starts to shake his head and his mouth opens. “
Crimson and clover, over and over and over … Crimson and clo-oh-ver
…”

    I t’s two in the morning and hot and we’re at the Edge in the back room and Trent is trying on my sunglassesand I tell him that I want to leave. Trent tells me that we’ll leave soon, a couple of minutes maybe. The music from the dance floor seems too loud and I tense up every time the music stops and another song comes on. I lean back against the brick wall and notice that there are two boys embracing in a darkened corner. Trent senses I’m tense and says, “What do you want me to do? You wanna lude, is that it?” He pulls out a Pez dispenser and pulls Daffy Duck’s head back. I don’t say anything, just keep staring at the Pez dispenser and then he puts it away and cranes his neck. “Is that Muriel?”
    “No, that girl’s black.”
    “Oh … you’re right.”
    Pause.
    “It’s not a girl.”
    I wonder how Trent can mistake a black teenage boy, not anorexic, for Muriel, but then I see that the black boy is wearing a dress. I look at Trent and tell him again that I have to leave.
    “Yeah, we all have to leave,” he says. “You said that already.”
    And so I stare at my shoes and Trent finds something to say. “You’re too much.” I keep staring at my shoes, tempted to ask him to let me see the Pez dispenser.
    Trent says, “Oh shit, find Blair, let’s go, let’s leave.”
    I don’t want to go back into the main room, but I realize you have to go through the main room to get back to the outside. I spot Daniel, who’s talking to this really pretty tan girl who’s wearing a Heaven cut-off T-shirt and a black-and-white miniskirt and I whisper to him that we’re leaving and he gives me this look and says,“Don’t give me any shit.” I finally yank his arm and tell him he’s really drunk and he says no kidding. He kisses the girl on the cheek and follows us toward the door, where Blair’s standing, talking to some guy from U.S.C.
    “Are we leaving?” she asks.
    “Yeah,” I say, wondering where she’s been.
    We walk out into the hot night and Blair asks, “Well, did we have a good time?” and nobody answers and she looks down.
    Trent and Daniel are standing by Trent’s BMW and Trent’s pulling the Cliff Notes to
As I Lay Dying
out of his glove compartment and hands them to Blair. We say goodbye and make sure Daniel can get into his car. Trent says that maybe one of us should drive Daniel home but then agrees that it would be too much of a hassle to drive him home and then drive him back tomorrow. And I drive Blair back to her house in Beverly Hills and she fingers the Cliff Notes but doesn’t say anything except when she tries to rub the stamp off her hand and she says, “Fuck it. I wish they didn’t have to stamp my hand in black. It never comes off.” And then she mentions that even though I was gone for four months, I never called her. I tell her I’m sorry and turn off Hollywood Boulevard because it’s too brightly lit and take Sunset and then