“Mud wrestling?” Kamiko shook her head at me, “You’re as bad as he is.” She glanced between me and Christos. “Okay, no fair you guys, ambushing me like this.”

“I’m sorry, Kamiko,” I said. “That day at Charboneau was all a big misunderstanding. Brandsome—”

“Dumb,” Christos interjected.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Brandumb,” Kamiko said, examining her fingernails.

I smiled, “That sounds about right. He’s too dumb to see a good thing when it’s staring right at him.”

“He’s a total fuck bucket,” Kamiko grumbled.

Christos and I both chuckled.

“I can corroborate that,” Christos grinned. “I have personally caught Brandon fucking buckets on more than one occasion, when he thought no one was around.”

“Did you take photos?” I asked. “Because if you did, maybe we can blackmail Brandumb into accepting Kamiko’s work into the Contemporary Artists Show.”

“I don’t need to blackmail that art fart!” Kamiko said confidently. “I’m going to paint something so awesome, he’s going to offer me oral favors just to get my painting into his stupid show.”

Confused, I asked dumbly, “Do you mean he’ll give you a Lifesaver or a Mentos or whatever?”

Kamiko frowned, “Huh?”

“Didn’t you just say you wanted Brandumb to give you oral flavors?” I asked.

Kamiko arched an eyebrow, “Flavors?”

Christos erupted with laughter.

Kamiko chuckled and shook her head, “You have finally lived up to your blondness, Sam. All that time you spent at the beach with Mads has broiled your brain. You might want to think twice before you quit your job at Grab-n-Dash.”

I think that was the first time Kamiko had smiled at me in weeks. “Does that mean you accept my apology?” I asked hopefully.

“If you insist…” she sighed.

“I insist.” I reached out to give her a big hug.

“…and give me five dollars,” she finished, her palm held out expectantly. Her brows knit into a menacing frown and one of her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What?” I scoffed. “I’m so not paying for your forgiveness!”

“Why not? It goes for ten times that on the open market. I declare a guilt glare!” She lunged her face toward me threateningly.

I took a step away from her. “Get your guilt glare away from me! It’s heinous! Where’d you learn how to make that face anyway?” I circled behind Christos.

Kamiko followed. “From my mom. She’s a master at it. It always worked for her. I think she did it so I had to give back all of my allowance.”

Confused, I paused my circumnavigation around Christos. “Wait, are you saying whenever you did something bad at home, your mom made you pay her?”

“Yeah,” Kamiko said uncertainly, looking between me and Christos, “isn’t that what your parents did?”

“Uhh…” I stammered.

Christos shrugged.

“Fine,” Kamiko said dismissively, “my mom is weird and my allowance was nothing more than a cruel ruse designed to humiliate. But you still have to pay up.” She jammed her expectant palm at me again and tightened the screws on her super powered guilt glare. It was disturbingly effective. She followed me around Christos.

I circled cautiously backward.

Kamiko was in hot pursuit. “Now it’s ten dollars. You feel bad because my mother robbed me of my rightful childhood income. Think of all the dishes and vacuuming I did. For free.”

“Guilt, guilt, guilt,” Christos chanted.

“Not helping,” I singsonged.

“Is Kamiko guilting you?” Romeo asked, suddenly standing behind me.

We all turned to look at him. He looked like he’d just come back from being out all night. He wore his fanciest black steampunk greatcoat. It had at least two hundred studs and buttons. Buckled black boots poked out from the bottom of the coat. His trademarked monocle was squinched into place.

“She won’t quit until she gets paid,” Romeo said, nodding toward Kamiko. “You’ll have nightmares about that face of hers until you pay up. She’s taken me for at least two grand since the start of high school.”

Kamiko smiled smugly. “He’s right.” She was still creeping toward me.

I couldn’t look at her guilt glare any longer. I dug a ten spot out of my purse and slapped it on her palm. “Make it go away!”

Kamiko’s horrid expression relaxed into a pleasant grin. “Thank you, Sam. You’re so kind.”

“You can’t be mad at me anymore,” I insisted.

Romeo snickered.

“What?” I said.

“Kamiko’s been playing you for over a week,” Romeo said. “I talked her down from her Sam hating ledge over fish tacos last Tuesday. I convinced her that boy Brandumb was bing bong in the ding dong if he couldn’t see how hot she is.”

I leveled an accusatory look at smiling, innocent Kamiko. She was no saint. She was the devil. It was time to flip the guilt trip. I turned up my own guilt glare to full power.

“What?” she said defensively. “I’ve been busy working on new paintings for Brandumb’s show. I didn’t have time to tell you.”

It was my turn to frown. “Not good enough.”

“My mom robbed me of my childhood earnings?” she said uncertainly. “Making me nothing more than an indentured servant?”

I shook my head and intensified my frown.

Kamiko screwed her face back into a glare and wiggled her wrinkled nose at me. “You can’t guilt glare me! I studied with the master!”

I grabbed for the ten dollar bill in her hand and growled, “Gimme my money back, con artist!” She danced away and jammed the money into her book bag.

“Fine. Keep it.” I rolled my eyes. “So, Romeo, what are you doing out so late?”

“Me?!” Romeo blurted. “What the hell are you guys doing out so late? Wait! I know! You missed me! You couldn’t get enough Romeo into your day, so you waited until you could bask in more of my awesome sauce!”

I grimaced at Romeo. “Why does you saying that make me want to take a bleach bath?”

Romeo wrapped his arms around me and jumped up and down aggressively. “Come on, Sam, you know you want my awesome sauce all over you!” He tried to lick my face.

Still caught in his grasp, I dodged my head from side to side. “Stop! Help!”

“If I keep jumping,” Romeo said suggestively, “maybe some awesome sauce will pop out the top of your head!”

Kamiko grimaced. “Seriously Romeo? I think I can taste vomit sauce in my mouth.”

“Okay,” Romeo said, ceasing his jumping. “Nobody likes to swallow vomit sauce.” He paused thoughtfully, hands on his hips. “On second thought, I just met this guy tonight who said he—”

“Hush!” I snapped, “We don’t want to know!”

“Yeah, Romeo,” Kamiko pleaded. “We’ve heard enough.”

“Actually,” Christos said, “I’m kinda curious where you met the vomit sauce guy.”

“Hillcrest,” Romeo said.

“That explains it,” Christos nodded thoughtfully.

“What’s in Hillcrest?” I asked.

Romeo rolled his eyes. “The gays, dearest.”

Christos chuckled. “True that.”

“What were you doing in Hillcrest?” I asked.

Romeo and Christos exchanged a look of utter disbelief.

“Duh,” Romeo scoffed.

“What?” I said defensively. “Am I supposed to believe you can drive to wherever Hillcrest is and random gay men are walking around the streets trolling for vomit sex?”

“Yes!” Romeo and Christos blurted in unison.

Okay, I admit it. I still had a few things left to learn in life.

The four of us stood outside Paiute Hall for awhile, continuing to chat and joke with each other. Christos had his arm draped casually around my waist most of the time. I don’t think I’d ever hung out with friends in the middle of the night like this before, and definitely not with a super hot boyfriend for me to lean against. I felt like the star of my very own college romcom.

It must have been after one in the morning, yet it seemed so normal, which was awesome. If I had been out this late in high school, my parents probably would’ve tried to send me to juvie for criminal loitering and felony curfew breaking. Screw them. I was nineteen. I could stay out as late as I wanted. I was having so much fun with my friends, I’d almost forgotten that my parents were doing everything in their powers to interfere with this awesome life I was building for myself.