Risen by Lauren Barnholdt, Aaron Gorvine Page B

Cody, but some people aren’t cut out for this life.”
    “But what are we actually doing?” Alec says.
    “We’re going to make money. We’re going to get girls.”
    “Yes!” Leo shouts.
    “And we’re going to run the school.” Jay walks over to the chair and sits down in it. “It’s not over just yet,” Jay says. “I still have to go. I still need to be initiated.”
    “What do we say?” Nick asks.
    Jay takes the revolver off the table and suddenly removes a single bullet from his front pocket. Instantly I know what he’s going to do. “Jay, don’t…”
    “Quiet.” He smiles but I can see his hands are shaking a little. He loads the bullet into the chamber.
    All of us start yelling but nobody moves to stop him. Jay spins the cylinder and then quickly puts the gun to his head and pulls the trigger.
    CLICK.
    Jay smiles wider. Takes the bullet out and puts it in his pocket. “That’s to show you why I’m the boss. Because whatever I ask of you guys, I’ll do more. Understand?”
    He turns and places the gun back on the table, cuts his finger with the knife, lets the blood onto the picture of the saint and sets it aflame.
    I watch as the picture curls and turns black.
    CINQUE (5)
    Jay pulls out a dusty bottle from one of the cabinets and starts pouring.
    We celebrate our initiation with shots of whiskey.
    We all hold up our glasses.
    “Salud,” he says.
    “Salud,” we reply in unison.
    It’s funny because out of our whole group, only Leo is even Italian—and I think it’s just on his mother’s side. But we all grew up watching The Sopranos, Mean Streets, Goodfellas and all the other mob movies over and over again. Jay and his buddies even know the phrases they said, the songs they sang, the food those fat mafia guys ate.
    I throw my shot back as quickly as possible and squint as the intense burning sensation hits the back of my throat. I nearly gag.
    “Ugh, that’s disgusting,” Alec says, wiping his eyes.
    “Another,” Jay says, picking up the bottle and pouring again.
    We raise our glasses. “To family,” Nick says.
    “To family,” we reply.
    “Even Richardson,” Nick adds.
    I nearly tell him to go screw, but then I look at his face and he’s smiling at me. I can tell he’s genuinely kidding around this time and not just trying to make me feel like crap. We all throw back our drinks.
    Alec makes a gagging sound.
    “He’s gonna puke!” Leo points at him. “Puke! Puke! Do it!”
    Alec shakes it off. “I’m fine, get the hell away from me.”
    Everyone’s laughing now. We drink yet another round.
    The room is swaying ever so slightly and I feel good. I feel proud. Someone starts singing the wedding song that Mama Corleone sang in The Godfather and we all join in, arms around one another’s shoulders. It’s hard because it’s an Italian song and I don’t know many of the words, but it’s fun to try.
    A few minutes later, Jay’s got Sinatra playing over the subwoofers and we’re all drinking beer.
    He’s happy, like a proud papa.
    “So, what happens now?” I ask him.
    He lights up a cigar, takes a few puffs and blows smoke rings towards the ceiling.
    “Lots of stuff happens.”
    “Like what?”
    It occurs to me that he hasn’t actually thought that far ahead. He probably just intends to milk the whole Nate situation, continue to take money from kids in exchange for protection. “You’ll see,” he says, grinning and blowing a few more rings.
    “You don’t have a plan.” Maybe it’s the booze because I wouldn’t normally call him out like this.
    Jay stares at me for a moment. Then the grin returns. “No, I have a plan. And you’re going to love it, Richardson. Priority number one is to get you laid.”
    Nick points at me. “I knew he was a virgin. I knew it.”
    I can’t even respond. I guess it must just be that obvious I’m a virgin, because Jay assumes it, even though for all he knows I could have gotten laid sometime over the last five years when we