America 1982-Chapter 142 - 48: Tommy’s Party
On Friday evening, rather than gathering at the Fraternity house, over a dozen members of the SSD Fraternity lined up their cars along Palm Drive at sunset, preparing for what looked like a collective road trip.
Most of these guys came from wealthy families, and since their first car was a coming-of-age gift from their parents, their vehicles were all brightly colored and stylish. While picking the most beautiful car might pose some challenge, identifying the most trashy one took no effort at all. Clearly, the dubious honor of the trashiest went to the last car in the line, Tommy Hawk’s yellow Barracuda C2.
SSD’s President Charles, leaning against the door of his own bright yellow Opel Manta sports car, teased loudly at Tommy who was bent over with his butt in the air, fixing his car, "Tommy, are you sure you can get your ’collectible’ ready before the start of the first class on Monday? You’ve been keeping that ’gay magnet’ posture for a solid ten minutes."
"Just a heads-up, Tommy," Eric chimed in with a laugh, standing behind his silver AMC Pacer adorned with black flame patterns, "Ted has already set off like a cowboy with rope in hand, ready to lasso a bull with long horns from the field, and then instruct it to lower its head for a deep charge at your damned behind!"
"Give it up, man. Stop insisting and both you and Jason can pick a car like a couple of dames, hop in the passenger seat, and we promise the driver won’t get handsy with you two in the car."
"Start the damn car! Jason!" Ignoring the bastards’ jeers, Tommy, with greasy hands, stood up and barked at Jason in the driver’s seat:
"Can’t you go buy a car when you make some money? Seven days of high-end living experienced ten times! That’s a down payment on a good car blown away! You’re truly a talent, Jason!"
"That’s money I earned the hard way filming adult videos. I’ll spend it any damn way I want, okay? Don’t you tell me what to do, son! Focus on fixing the car!" Jason retorted without backing down while trying to start the engine:
"What you should really be doing is keep selling software, make money and then spoil your old man here!"
Seeing the car finally starting successfully, Tommy lowered the hood and turned around, flipping off Charles, Eric, and the others with a greasy middle finger, "All of you, along with that damned Jason, I guarantee you’ll all kneel before Tommy Hawk tonight!"
Charles, seeing Tommy’s stubborn look, nodded sternly, "No doubt, brother, your mouth is much harder than certain other parts of you, I can’t guarantee kneeling before you, but what I can guarantee is you’re dead if you deceive us."
"Exactly, I’ll be the first to help Ted hold you down so you can feel the pain," Eric loudly agreed before turning his head to signal everyone, "Let’s hit the road! Destination, San Francisco!"
"Hey! A bunch of world-insensitive cuties!" Tommy, full of disdain as he heard Eric and Charles rallying everyone to the cars, called out:
"A boring, depressing intro with a dull road trip is what you guys imagine my party to be? You think I’d let my party be so monotonous? That’s an insult to me."
Everyone, including Charles and Eric, halted, looking at Tommy in confusion, not understanding why the hell this scoundrel was saying such things.
It was rare for that scoundrel Tommy to return to SSD on a weekend and to spontaneously suggest throwing a party, which excited everyone. The group knew Tommy was a party pro, skilled in designing all kinds of game segments, and he was already regarded by the incumbent SSD Party Manager, Ian, as the unique successor, just waiting for graduation to take over the responsibility of designing parties for the SSD brothers.
However, Tommy, the bastard, had informed them that they were heading to San Francisco for a night out and had even invited members of the white-shoe fraternity from Stanford Law School.
Upon hearing of outsiders, including Charles, Eric, and Jason, most of the fraternity brothers instantly lost interest. They preferred a comfortable time at Sparta, inviting some girls over for a social, drinking, dancing, and sleeping till naturally awake, which seemed far more appealing than hitting the bars in San Francisco.
The white-shoe fraternity was composed of a bunch of pretentious losers from the Law School, a training camp for America’s future shysters.
As right-minded, upstanding young Americans of the Stanford SSD Fraternity, who would want to go out drinking with a bunch of bastards just like themselves?
Obviously, Tommy, the ball-breaker, was once again cloaking his sleazy personal agenda behind the pretense of a social gathering.
The SSD members were as close as brothers, and when a brother needed their help to accompany a bunch of men for drinks, they refused him out of deep affection, without hesitation.
So Charles and the others flatly refused Tommy. Then that bastard Tommy briefly shared the evening’s entertainment lineup at the party. As soon as they heard it, those who had just expressly shown no interest, such as Charles, changed their tunes immediately. If the other brothers hadn’t already had weekend plans, they would have regretfully missed out, as the SSD would definitely have wanted full attendance at the party.
Tommy opened the car door, unruffled, using Jason’s coat to wipe the greasy stains off his hands, a moment before Jason could grab a wrench and attempt to smash his skull, Tommy turned and whistled loudly towards a distant bus.
As the whistle sounded, Jason, who had just grabbed a wrench and dashed out of the car ready to display the deep bonds of roommate affection, along with the other SSD members, saw a dozen or so scantily clad hotties descending from the bus. They were strolling down Sunset Palm Drive, blowing kisses and giving come-hither looks to the guys.
"Pops, I came down just to personally clean your hands." Jason immediately dropped the wrench, grabbed the hem of his jacket, and went over to carefully wipe Tommy’s palms, his eyes fixed on the approaching women, and he said affectionately,
"Tommy, I know I can be a little disrespectful at times, pissing you off, but that’s just a rebellious phase we all go through. You’ve got to be understanding and forgiving... Shit, look at that chick who looks like a Barbie doll, can I pick her?"
"Which dumbass just told me to go sit in the passenger’s seat?" Tommy turned his head, casting a half-smiling glance at his SSD brethren, as he asked.
Charles was the first to betray Eric: "Tommy, my dearest brother, an idiot like Eric who slanders you doesn’t deserve to attend the wonderful party you planned for our great fraternal friendship. Let him go back empty-handed to the passenger seat. My car can take three..."
"Tommy, I think there’s been a little misunderstanding between us!" Eric grabbed Charles by the neck to stop that bastard from going on, and loudly pleaded to Tommy, "I mean, I’m the one who deserves a lesson from the antlers of a stag, but before you teach me, can I at least enjoy tonight first?"
Tommy said to the approaching beauties, "Ladies, pick a car and take the passenger’s seat for an unboring journey to San Francisco for my brothers, except for the last car."
Seeing one after another curvy, alluring woman getting into the passenger’s seats of their cars, the SSD brothers cheered excitedly, then hopped into their vehicles and smoothly drove off toward San Francisco.
In less than a minute, only the dilapidated yellow puffer, Tommy Hawk, and his roomie Jason with a dumbfounded expression remained at the scene.
"...Tommy..." Jason glanced at the bus, now turning around without any more women coming down, and at his SSD pals already making their way on the road, and finally hesitantly asked Tommy, "What about ours? Where’s our babe?"
"I told you to buy a car, and this is what you get for not listening to dad!" Tommy took out a cigarette, placed it in his mouth, and told Jason,
"My car seats two. If I take you, there’s no room for hotties. I chose brotherhood over babes and took you instead, Jason..."
Jason bent down to pick up the wrench from the ground: "So, you’re saying the others get to be all lovey-dovey with the beauties on the road, but the two of us can only drive to San Francisco like some country father and son in this piece of junk? If you’re sure that’s what you want to say to me, I’m also pretty sure about busting your head open!"
"No, no, no, calm down. I saved something special for you. I know you don’t like sitting with me, right? Look, look at that bus." Seeing Jason with a murderous look in his eye, Tommy quickly started to explain, "I wouldn’t do you like that, look at it, Jason!"
Following the direction Tommy was pointing, Jason saw the bus that had just turned around and was slowly passing by. Two pretty blondes at the front window jiggled their upper bodies at him, and just that move made Jason drop the wrench again and embrace Tommy, saying, "I knew you wouldn’t screw me over, Tommy, we’re brothers, we..."
"Actually, I was hoping you could do me a favor, or rather, do us both a favor. If you agree, you can hop on that bus."
Jason pushed Tommy away and ran after the bus: "Of course, I’ll do anything for you. Open up, ladies! Your beloved Jason is coming! Feels great when it’s free!"
"I’ll take that as a yes?" Tommy asked with a laugh from behind.
"No problem, daddy Tommy!" Jason yelled back as he boarded the bus, leaving Tommy and his car lonely on Sunset Palm Drive.
Watching the bus disappear in the distance, Tommy shook his head:
"Jason’s such an obliging response brings out some unwarranted guilt in me."
But quickly, he shrugged off that emotion, saying with conviction, "He’s my roomie’s son. It’s only right he listens to dad. I’m doing it for his own good."
With that, Tommy started the car and turned on the radio. In the sunset, with music filling the air, he drove off to San Francisco.
