No More Us for You by David Hernandez Page B

a bobble head in a car going over potholes.”
    Vanessa was in mid-sip and quickly covered her mouth to stop from spraying orange juice and vodka all over the windshield. Her shoulders quaked, she held her laughter inside her mouth with her drink. Finally she composed herself and gulped it all down. She laughed and coughed, fanning her face with her hand. “Almost,” she said, giggling. “That was close .”
    â€œI laughed Pepsi out of my nose once when I was a kid,” Snake said.
    â€œGod, you’re really turning me on,” Vanessa said, still chuckling. “Pepsi out of your nose, piss in your jeans. You’re a keeper .”
    Then we were all laughing. Even Snake.
    â€œLet’s go inside and tear up the dance floor,” Carlos said, already opening the door.
    Snake whispered something to Vanessa, and Vanessa whispered something back. I finished my drink and set it down on the floor of the car.
    â€œWe’ll meet you guys inside,” Snake said.
    Carlos and I looked at each other. There was a pause there, a moment when we both weighed the idea of spending a few minutes alone. “Come on,” he said.
    I put my hand on Vanessa’s shoulder. “Don’t be long.”
    Vanessa covered my hand with hers and turned her head so I saw her profile in the console’s glow, the powder blue line from forehead to chin. “We won’t be,” she said.
    I stepped out into the cool evening and straightened my sweater. The gymnasium was at the end of the parking lot and I could see kids inside the front entrance, their silhouettes, the wall flashing orange and yellow like they were standing around a bonfire.
    Carlos blew into his cupped hands. “Chilly.”
    â€œI’ve got my sweater,” I said, stating the obvious.
    â€œIt’s nice.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œI like the buttons.”
    I held one of the pearly white beads and rolled it between my thumb and forefinger. “Me too,” I said.
    We began walking across the parking lot. Whenever we decided to zigzag between cars, Carlos let me go first. Ithought it was really sweet, but then I thought maybe he wanted to check out my ass.
    â€œSorry about Snake,” he said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThat comment he made about drinking so I’d have a chance.”
    â€œOh,” I said. “I thought that was kind of funny.”
    â€œHe likes to embarrass me. If we’re in an elevator with other people, or in a line for a movie, he’ll say really loud, So, how’s your rash doing? or something like that.”
    â€œI’d be afraid to go out with him in public,” I said.
    â€œI guess I’m sort of used to it.”
    We had to zigzag through a couple more cars and Carlos slowed down. “After you,” he said.
    I smiled and walked ahead of him, hoping my sweater and dress didn’t make my ass look too big.
    We stepped onto the walkway that cut through the grass and straight to the gymnasium’s front doors. The speakers thumped louder as we approached, the lights flashed brighter, white and pink now. I heard the chatter and laughter of students inside, their voices coming in andout of the music’s crashing waves.
    Mr. Bissell and Ms. Lauden were seated behind a table just outside the entrance. There was a fat red roll of raffle tickets and a clipboard with a pencil tied to the metal clasp. Mr. Bissell picked up the pencil and made two quick lines on a sheet that was already crowded with marks.
    â€œHere you go,” Ms. Lauden chimed, tearing off a couple raffle tickets and handing them to us. “We’re giving away a gift bag at the end of the dance.”
    â€œWhat’s in the gift bag?” Carlos asked.
    â€œIt’s a surprise .”
    Mr. Bissell muttered something under his breath and Ms. Lauden elbowed him playfully.
    When we stepped into the gymnasium we were slammed with the music and splashed with