Ricky's Business Read Online Free PDF Page B

busy to meet on a weekday.
     
The thirty students involved, all seniors and all trying hard to get accepted into the right
     
colleges, had already formed fifteen groups of two and now they were going to discuss their
     
projects. The groups were referred to as companies, and each company had to come up with a
     
new product or concept that would make money. Leyland and Ricky were paired off and their
     
fictional company had been named The Risers. They pretended they were looking forward to
     
working together and creating the most unique entrepreneurial product concept that had even
     
been created. Only they still hadn’t come up with an idea yet. When the teacher asked if any of
     
the fictional companies didn’t have a product idea, Ricky and Leyland slumped down in their seats and remained silent. Neither of them was willing to admit they didn’t have a clue what they
     
were going to do.
     
Ricky glanced around at the class and frowned. The other students, mostly girls, all
     
seemed so alert and eager. His mother would have called them peppy . They laughed and giggled
     
about their projects; they scheduled dates and times when they could meet together. Ricky sighed
     
and poked Leyland in the ribs. He smiled at the teacher and leaned to his right. “Do we have any
     
idea what we’re doing, asshole breath?”
     
Leyland shrugged. He tilted his head and whispered, “Not a fucking clue, dick face. I
     
only signed up for this lame fucking thing because I thought it would look good on my record.
     
Now I’m sorry I did.”
     
Ricky rubbed his chin and closed his eyes. He’d signed up for the same exact reason.
     
Now he was having serious regrets. If they didn’t come up with a good idea, they could come off
     
looking worse than if they hadn’t signed up at all, which wouldn’t be good for their records.
     
Ricky could only imagine how his mother and father would react. To hear them speak, they
     
thought Ricky was ready to move into Donald Trump’s office and take over the casinos.
     
Later that afternoon, while Ricky was outside doing yard work, Leyland walked up the
     
driveway and gave him a playful kick in the ass. Then he punched him in the arm and said, “I see
     
you’re wearing your ripped jeans. I’ll bet you’re hoping the guy next door is inside watching you
     
bend over. I saw you shaking your ass for him.”
     
Ricky rolled his eyes. His jeans were slightly ripped in the knees and he was only
     
wearing them because he was working outside. And the last thing he cared about was his
     
divorced neighbor. He’d told Leyland about what had happened with his neighbor and the
     
swimming pool, but now he was sorry he did. Leyland seemed obsessed with the story. He’d been talking about it and asking questions about it ever since Ricky had mentioned it after their
     
class. So Ricky turned and continued walking toward the garage. “The guy’s not even home right
     
now. He went out on his bike early this morning and he probably won’t be back until late this
     
afternoon. Trust me, nothing’s going to happen. He won’t even look at me.” Ricky had seen his
     
neighbor when he left for the diner earlier that day. The neighbor had been outside getting his
     
bike ready. When the neighbor saw Ricky, he nodded fast, waved, and looked down at the bike
     
pedals. Ricky turned even faster and got into the minivan. Neither one of them wanted to
     
acknowledge what had happened the night before, which was fine with Ricky. Although it had
     
been exciting at the time, he was feeling guilty about it and trying to remove it from his brain.
     
“You never know,” Leyland said, holding the trash bin lid up so Ricky could toss a large
     
plastic bag of yard waste inside. “Sounds like this guy is hot for you, and it also sounds like
     
you’re hot for him. He’d probably let you suck him off in the bushes.”
     
Ricky smiled and flipped the lid shut.