-make it alright-
-chapter fourteen-

�I can�t believe we�re doing this,� Melissa repeated for what must have been the thousandth time.

�You need to stop being such a goody two-shoes, Lissie.� Nick instructed. �Start hanging out with AJ more.�

�But it�s the middle of the night!� Melissa protested. �Lord knows what could happen to us��

Nick rolled his eyes. �This is Ruskin, Florida- not Compton. The worst thing that happens at night here is a house getting egged or T.P.�d.�

�But if I get caught, I�ll be grounded for life!� Melissa fretted.

At this point, even mellow Brent was getting fed up with Melissa. �Mel, just shut up. We�re sneaking out of the house- not robbing a liquor store.�

To that, Melissa was silent. Ever since she�d returned from dance camp, Brent had been the perfect angel. Towards Melissa, at least. For him to get to the point of yelling at her took a lot.

�Fine, let�s just go inside.� Melissa muttered. Glad to have won the fight, Nick and Brent slapped one another with a high-five. The gloated all the way inside Denny�s.

Ever since Nick�s thirteenth birthday, over a year before, Denny�s had become a hangout for Melissa, Brent, BJ and Nick. They went there to eat at every opportunity the got. So when Nick suggested they walk two miles to Denny�s at midnight, BJ and Brent jumped at the chance.

�Table for four,� Nick told the hostess. She was in her early thirties, light brown hair pulled into a messy bun. The hostess raised an eyebrow at the young crowd, but nevertheless gathered up four menus.

�Aren�t you a little young to be out this late?� Asked the hostess as she led the group to a booth.

�Well, my friend Nick here is going to be a rock star,� Brent explained proudly. As he wrapped an arm around Nick�s shoulders. �We�re just trying to get used to the party lifestyle.�

�So you�re a singer?� The hostess skeptically asked Nick.

He nodded. �I just got signed to Jive Records.�

�Never heard of it,� the hostess said bluntly. She obviously didn�t buy their story. �Well, here�s your table.�

Brent and Melissa slid into one side of the booth, while BJ and Nick slid into the other. The hostess took her place at the end of the table, pad and pencil in hand. �Can I get you any drinks?�

�A strawberry milkshake, please,� Melissa requested.

�Root Beer float,� Brent chimed in.

�I want a Coke with orange syrup,� BJ ordered.

�And I�d like one with cherry syrup.�

�Okay. I�ll be right back to take your orders.�

Once the hostess left, Melissa spoke up. �You know, you guys shouldn�t be drinking caffeine this late at night.�

�Melissa!� The table cried out in unison.

�Okay. I�ll shut up.� Melissa looked around the restaurant. There were a couple of college students with highlighters in hand, their noses buried in textbooks. Another couple of tables were inhabited by some people on their way home from a dance club. Their sweaty bodies and wild clothing gave them away.

Melissa turned back to her friends. �You know, being bad is kinda fun.�

�That�s the spirit!� Nick said enthusiastically. Melissa grinned broadly.

�Here are your drinks,� spoke up the hostess. She placed the sugary concoctions on the table. �You ready to order?�

�I think so,� Nick said, without anyone having opened a menu. There was no need. They always ordered the same thing. �We want two orders of fries and two pieces of Oreo cheesecake.�

�That�s an easy order.� The waitress didn�t even bother to write it down. �Be right back.�

�Ooo! Look Nick!� BJ exclaimed. She was pointing across the restaurant. �Arcade games! Wanna play?�

�Totally,� Nick agreed enthusiastically. He looked to Brent and Melissa. �You guys want to play? We can take turns.�

�Nah, man�� Brent began. �I just wanna stay here. I don�t want my ice cream to melt.�

�And I hate video games,� Melissa added.

�Okay. Come on, Nick! Let�s go!� Said BJ. She grabbed her flowered purse and her brother, dragging both across the room.

�Which game do you want to play?� BJ asked her brother, once the two were standing in front of the arcade games.

�You choose. I have to run back to the table anyway. You dragged me here so fast, I forgot to grab my wallet!� Nick explained.

�Okay,� said BJ. She was already loading her quarters into a game.

Nick walked back to the table. From where he stood, he could watch Brent and Melissa�s backs. The were both leaning over their drinks, deep in conversation. As he approached the table, Nick realized he could listen in on his friends� conversation without them noticing.

�So tell me about this move back to Houston,� Brent said to Melissa. �It was your mother�s decision, wasn�t it?�

�Sort of,� said Melissa. She swallowed her mouthful of strawberry shake. �I mean, originally, it was my mama�s idea. I just wanted to stay here in Florida. There�s a lot of great opportunities for dancers here- with all the tv/movie studios and amusement parks.�

�And because I�m here,� Brent butted in cockily.

�Well, of course. That was a given.� Melissa smiled. �But anyway, my mama wanted to move back home. She thinks I�m losing touch with my culture, since I�ve begun to dress kinda crazy. I think Mama has this far-fetched idea of turning me into a debutante.

�But the more I found out about the school, the more attached I grew to the idea. I mean, I�ve never been to school before. And even though this isn�t the regular school, with football and whatnot, I still think it�ll be fun.�

�I hate to see you go,� Brent admitted. �But I think this�ll be a good experience for you.�

�Thanks,� Melissa said. �You know, I don�t know what I�ll do without our nightly phone calls.�

Nightly phone calls? Nick questioned inwardly.

�Me either. But there�s always e-mail, right?� Brent suggested.

�Yeah. And I can spring for a long-distance phone call once a week.� Melissa sighed. �You know, I love Nickers and all. But I could never open up to him like I do to you, Brent.�

I could never open up to him like I do to you, Brent? Maybe I�m not losing my best friend to Texas. Maybe I�m losing my best friend to my OTHER best friend.

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