Just One More

“Oh I just whizzed in a potted plant,” tossed off my twin with a salacious grin. Man, that guy had the moves because instead of being grossed out, Chrissy just giggled and started flirting again.

“No way!” she said. “I hope you take lots of Vitamin K because it’s good for leafy greens you know,” she simpered.

And that had been that, or so we thought.

But suddenly, the bathroom door burst open and two kids came out, stumbling a bit as they laughed and pushed each other.

“Hey man!” chattered one boy to the other.

The two were gangling, unremarkable looking adolescents. They would have been okay-looking had it not been for unfortunate haircuts and a bad case of acne.

“Yeah way!” said the other, “I swear it’s true.”

My brother and I frowned at each other. What seems like an innocuous exchange to the general public can sometimes set off the radar of a cop. Teenage boys are notorious trouble-makers and the way these two were acting … I don’t know. I mean, what were two male adolescents doing together in the toilet anyways?

Without saying a word, Bryan disappeared into the now-vacated bathroom, presumably to relieve himself, but I knew he’d be checking for drug residue. Even if you’re careful, crack is hard not to spill and almost always leaves traces on the bathroom sink, the cover of the toilet, wherever you’d done the deed.

Meanwhile, I eyed the boys with an impassive face as they stumbled off, my arm still slung around Callie.

“Who are those dudes?” I’d asked Chrissy.

“Oh them?” she asked, distracted as she mixed another drink. “I think they’re friends of my sister Valerie, I don’t really know.”

Callie shot me a warning look, but I ignored it.

“Oh is Valerie a freshman?” I’d asked casually. Those boys couldn’t have been more than fifteen.

“Not exactly,” said Chrissy. “Valerie’s three years older actually, she was at Canterdale a couple years back but dropped out because she needed some time to find herself.”

I almost snorted but kept myself in check. “Finding yourself” was a euphemism at the precinct for a rich kid with serious issues, like addiction or crime.

“So where is Valerie now?” I asked casually, ignoring Callie’s jab to my ribs. “She around tonight?”

That got Chrissy’s attention. “Yeah, I think so,” she said, craning her neck, looking around to survey the mass of bodies. “She bought the beer tonight and I think she was going to make a second run to the store if necessary,” she shrugged. “I mean, you never know with Valerie. She’s got this new boyfriend, he’s so disgusting,” she said wrinkling her nose. “Old, stringy brown hair in a ponytail, thinks he’s some biker gang member.”

That definitely caught my ear. An old dude hanging out with high school kids? Definitely a recipe for disaster. I wanted to ask more but could no longer ignore the sharp looks from Callie. Clearly, there was something buried here and my girl didn’t want to go any further down this line of questioning.

“Come on Blake,” she said, trying to distract me. “Let’s head outside. The Gordons have an amazing pool house,” she said.

I’d glimpsed the cabana in passing and it did look fancy, like a second residence situated some distance away from the main house. And you know what? I was feeling horny again, maybe there’d be some privacy for a second fuck of the night.

“Sure,” I drawled. “After you,” I said just as my brother came out of the bathroom. He silently shook his head no, indicating that there was no drug residue, and I dragged him along for the ride.

“Let’s get outta here, see what everyone else is up to,” I drawled nonchalantly. “Bryan?”

“Yeah,” he growled, his face impassive. “Let’s go.”

11

Bryan

The investigation wasn’t exactly going well. There hadn’t been any telltale residue on the sink or toilet at Chrissy’s house. Instead, I’d found a recently used condom still filled with warm, bubbling cum in the trash.

So those teenage boys, those comic-book turds, were probably gay. They’d probably fucked each other in the bathroom, groaning aloud, spanking each other’s asses, and then come out again acting like typical adolescents, pushing, shoving, pretending to be alpha males.

It was juicy, but not exactly criminal. I mean, my brother and I should know – we fuck each other, and that probably is criminal in the State of California, not to mention illicit and nastiness of it all.

But Canterdale High? Not squeaky clean, but not exactly a hotbed of criminal activity either. So the investigation continued.

We were in the biology classroom on a Sunday afternoon, getting ready to dissect a cat. Goddamn this cat. I was so sick of it already, I hated biology, Blake and I hadn’t become cops to re-do high school. But here we were in this antiseptic environment, all the tools laid out, Callie looking nauseated again as I prepared to sink a knife into the belly fur of the glazed-eyed corpse.