“Hey man, you bailed,” I started in before he even got his window all the way down.
Before I could say more, Clayton stuck his hand in my face.
“Smell my fingers. That’s why I bailed. Your friend Tina or Tracy or whatever is great.”
“Ugh,” I yelled out, beyond repulsed.
“I had to drive her home after we were done. Sorry man.”
“God damn’t. Can you stick around tonight?”
“Sorry man. Me and her are doing a little camping by the river tonight. Private. Party.”
“Fine.”
I shoved the sack of loot into Clayton’s window and walked away.
Maybe I could just have friends stay over tonight? I had avoided having them stay over because it was in the sleeping/barfing process that usually messed up things around the house at previous parties. The housekeepers also usually showed up around daybreak, and unlike Clayton, could not be bought off with cheap weed, cinnamon whiskey and underage ass.
