Infamous *Ricky Horror Love Story*

Chapter 23: Family

"Dude. Dude. We have to have a party." Balz said. I glanced over at Chris, who seemed to be in his own world. We were all chilling in the kitchen drinking a few beers, and smokes. I held Ricky's hand on the table. "Yeah. That would be so cool." Brandon smiled. I nodded my head in agreement along with Ghost, and Ricky. "I suppose." Chris said. "Who do we invite?" I asked. "Well Emily, Tilly, and a few of our close friends." Ryan thought.

"You're so into Tilly." I snickered. Ryan rolled his eyes while his cheeks heated up. "Whatever. Can we just order the pizza and have the party?" Brandon piped up. Ryan dialed Tilly's number, and the rest of the guys called their friends up. I sat at the kitchen table drinking my beer in deep thought. "What's up?" Chris asked, plopping down next to me. I shook my head.

"Ah, c'mon on Riot. What's up?" Chris asked again. "I'm just tired, ya know? I've been thinking about doing online classes so I can actually get my GED and get a job." I answered. "Well, what do you want to be?" Chris wondered. I shook my head. "Ah, come on Riot! Please tell me." Chris begged. I laughed softly. Then aborsbed what courage I have left, and told Chris what I wanted to be.

"A tattoo artist." I answered. "That's kick ass! Dude, you could be able to do it!" Chris smiled at me. I shrugged my shoulders and gripped the chilled beer. "I guess but I doubt I'd be any good." I frowned. "That's is a lie. You can draw. I've seen you draw before." Chris smiled. I shook my head once more.

"Chris, I haven't drew anything since you left." I sneered as I left the room. I wasn't in the mood to talk about the past. Chris muttered something under his breath but it was too late to understand what he said. Ricky popped up next to me, a goofy smile spread across his pale face.

"Hey there beautiful." He grinned. I giggled softly, and tassled his long black hair. "What's up?" I asked. "Well, we're about to go get pizza for le party. Join me?" Ricky asked. "I would love to." I answered. We walk out of the house and into Ricky's old pick up. The door screeched as I opened it. The leather seats were ripped up and the car smelt of tobacco. "Wow." Is all I could manage to say. Ricky jumped in, laughing at my remark. As soon as I was in the car, Ricky started the car, backed up, and drove. "So what's up with you, and Chris?" Ricky asked.

"Nothing." I muttered, once again in a bad mood. I stared out the window, watching the blur of trees, and houses. "Nothing? Chris is pretty tore up since we found out what happened." Ricky replied. "His image is hurt." I spat. Ricky stopped at a red light, and looked over at me. "His image isn't hurt. His heart is." Ricky frowned. I shrugged my shoulders.

"What am I supposed to do?" I whispered. "Spend time with him. I remember the first time I met him, he had left his wallet at a hotel. He was in tears. Chris was freaking out. He wasn't worried about the 50 bucks in his wallet, or the credit cards. Chris was worried about the 8th grade picture of his little sister. Chris cares so much about you, Riot. I wish you could see that."