Spud Read Free Page A

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are you twerps up to? Where’s yer little guitar, Spud potato? Thought Hell’d freeze
over before you’d ever wander about without your cowboy boots and guitar together.
Don’t ya wanna croon us all a song?” Laughing at his own dumb comment, he takes a
seat and starts flipping through the magazine. Mike’s an ass. Spud is a guitar player,
a skill he got from his dad, especially with country songs, and I think Mike’s just
jealous.
    “Flap off, freak,” Spud mumbles and he steps on Mike’s sandal-wearing foot as he
heads toward the door. Ouch, with those boots? Had to hurt! Spud’s not a chicken
and can kick some ass, but he can’t get in trouble and knows where to draw the line,
well, sometimes. But, oh, with just flip flops on Mike’s feet?
    “Ouch, watch it, ya dumb hillbilly!” He pulls his foot up to the seat to rub it,
a grimace on his unfriendly face. “And how bout you, Jackson? Why you hanging in
this little dump when you can be playing audience to yer little cousin’s serenade?”
Now he laughs at himself again. Seriously, jerk.
    “Dude, get over it,” I say. “It’s hot, we wanted some AC, and now we’re leaving.”
I start toward the door, dropping my Twix wrapper in the garbage. “Damn, what the
hell does Deena see in you? Arrogant prick,” I mumble.
    “Excuse me?” He’s up now and following us, his thin, tanned body used to the summer
ways by now. He’s shorter than us, though, which helps. “You didn’t just insult me
in my pop’s own town now? Deena, grab me a Coke while you’re over there. I’ll meet
ya outside in a minute.” Deena looks at us briefly, gives me a heart-melting, apologetic
smile, and makes her way from the coolers to the counter to pay the cashier, who
couldn’t care less if we had a royal rumble right here and now. She is too engrossed
in her gossip magazine and bag of Doritos.
    The thing about Deena, it’s like she’s afraid of Mike and won’t butt in. Well, it’s
not her fault he’s a jerk.
    “Um, whatever. We’re out. Go piss off somebody else.” I say, opening the door in
my triumph, but feeling the heat rush at us like a bull seeing red. Spud’s already
out there, waiting, steaming in more ways than one.
    Mike’s dad is one of like four cops in town, which makes Mike think he’s also in
charge or something, like he owns any place he hangs. And his dad’s a prick. You
don’t want to run into him, all burly and a look of malice on his bearded face, if
you’re thinking of getting in trouble. Of course, let’s hope that jerk father-cop
will pull some strings when it comes time for Mike to become a working man, when
school is all over, because with his grades, he’s gonna be stuck in Seneca forever.
He’ll sink in college, and his running and football ability, which are decent now,
may make him a name and popular here, but it’s a small town and no scouts ever look
at players around here. His body is more built for track, not the ball field, but
he’s popular, so he gets to play. Like, if he wanted, at his five-foot-four frame,
they’d let him be star center on the basketball team, just because of who he is.
Colleges would laugh at that, the shorty. Let him enjoy it while it lasts. I just
wish he hadn’t won over Deena. God only knows what she sees in him. She’s just probably
too sweet to dump his ass.
    “I ain’t done yet. You all can’t be so disrespectful, yo. You want yer little buddy
to keep out of trouble this summer, you’d better show some appreciation. Don’t think
I don’t know about Spud taking cigs from the Citgo station last week. Was right there
when he did it, was by the chips. But did I tattle? No, because I’m a nice guy. But,
if I let my pops know, Spud’s gonna get a rough time ahead. Got it?”
    Spud has a habit of getting in trouble… beer, cigs, curfew violations. Mike knows
all about it with his dad being Mr. Cop. Mike always threatens to cause more trouble.
    “Look, you don’t know anything, and