Juice didn't want to take the suit off. "If I pull my shorts over the bottom half, can't I wear it while we're shopping?" he asked.

No one could think of an objection. The suit had been paid for using Ell's credit card and from somewhere Carmine had produce a 15% off coupon. The price totaled less than $30 dollars with tax, reasonable for a nice suit and exceptionally cheap for a Robin Piccone.

"Wow, Juice," said Shabeez. "I can't believe how good you look in that."

"It's the fool the eye swirly stripes," said Carmine. "Makes her look like she has actual tits."

Jenn didn't comment and after a moment looking sideways at Juice, Ell asked, "Did you stuff something into the cups on that suit?"

Justin nodded and blushed and all the girls laughed.

"Haven't we all done that?"

"Uh-huh, yeah, girl!"

"I had to stop when I was thirteen, I've got uncles."

"Uncles?" said Juice. "What have uncles got to do with it?"

"Teenage uncles," Carmine explained.

# # #

They adjourned to the food court, again. This time for an actual meal. "Didn't we eat lunch at the plaza," asked Jenn.

"Well, it's almost dinner time and I'm hungry," said Shabeez.

"The Beez has never met a meal she wasn't willing to put behind her," said Carmine.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's saying you have a fat butt," said Juice. Everyone stopped to stare at him.

"It's my... my ethnic heritage," said Shabeez. Everyone started walking again without commenting on Juice's unexpected direct translation.

"Wish I had more derry in my derry-there," said Juice.

"Say what?"

Carmine began giggling.

"Did someone give Juice a shot of juice with a shot of something in it?" asked Ell, looking amused.

"We should go over to Frederick's and get you some padded panties," said Carmine.

"We've spent enough money on the wench, today," said Shabeez. "No offense, hon."

"'Course not," said Juice. He grinned. "Besides I got snarky before you did. And I'm hungry too. I wonder if I could get a slice of pizza, a salad and a coke with eight dollars?"

"Never eat the pizza in a food court," said Ell. "It's always extra greasy."

"Ell's right, and we had much better pizza for lunch."

Juice's lip curled. "But I'm hungry."

"Have some broccoli beef, it's what I'm having," offered Shabeez.

"Or a hot dog," said Jenn, already heading toward Jodie Maroni's.

"You sure you feel like eating again?" asked Ell. "You were tossing up some serious technicolor earlier weren't you?"

"I'm starved," insisted Juice.

Ell waved a hand at the food court, "Eat," she said.

# # #

Later, after all errant fries had been pursued and devoured, the Los Rubá­s posse decided that shopping had played itself out. If they wanted to get back to the Plaza in time to hear the band for awhile before they went home, then they should catch the bus soon.

"Wonder who the band is this week?" asked Shabeez.

"Der," said Jenn. "The posters were all over the Plaza when we had lunch there."

"Oh, yeah. Z-Machine?"

Jenn nodded. "For a local band they're pretty good."

"How come they never have hip-hop bands at the Plaza?" asked Shabeez.

"Think about it," said Ell. "They don't want just young people there and a lot of older people would stay away if someone was playing loud hiphop in the middle of the place."

"The Stowaways are pretty good," said Shabeez.

Juice stuck his finger in his open mouth as if inducing vomiting. This cracked everyone up.

"Seriously?" said Shabeez.

"The Stowaways are one thing good: loud," said Juice.

"I like loud," said Shabeez.

"If this Z-Machine is so good, how come they never play anywhere but Riverside?" asked Carmine.

"They do," said Ell, "but not together. The bass player and drummer are studio musicians in LA, and the lead singer has her own band in Berdoo. I think the guitar and keyboards are in other bands, too."

"How you know this stuff?" asked Juice.

Ell shrugged. "I've got an uncle who does band promotions."

# # #

After their second lunch, everyone took time out to call home and be certain things were all right for another stop at the Plaza to listen to the band.

Justin turned on his cellphone which was normally off so that he would not get too many calls from his friends and use up his pay-as-you-go minutes too quickly. He played with his hat while he talked to his father, Harold, because he was still trying to ignore the itching in his earlobes.

“We’re walking down to the bus stop to catch the bus to the Plaza now,” said Justin.

“Thanks for calling,” said his dad. In the background, Justin heard Tom, the dog, give a friendly woof. Perhaps he heard Justin’s voice through the phone. “I always like to know that you’re all right when you’re out by yourself.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. They had a lot of silent moments in their conversations.

“Did you have enough money?” asked Harold.

“Well, no,” said Justin, laughing. “When does anyone have enough money?”

Harold laughed too. “When will you be home, do you think?”

“Eight or nine, I think for sure,” said Justin. “Maybe earlier but I’m going to stop at Jenn’s first.”

“Okay,” said Harold. “Can you call me from there?”

“Sure.”

“You sound a little odd,” said Harold.

“We’re in the stairwell, near the food court, it’s the quietest place to make a phone call,” said Justin, “but it echoes.”

# # #

On the bus, Jenn plopped into the seat next to Juice. “You didn’t tell them?”

“I haven’t told anyone,” said the boy in the girl’s swimsuit and hat.

“When did this start?”

“About four months ago,” said Juice.

“How have you avoided anyone else finding out?”

Juice shrugged. “I’ve just been careful, school was almost over and no one noticed at first and I didn’t go swimming all summer.”

Jenn was quiet for a moment. Her red hair and Juice’s blond were very close together so no one else could hear their conversation. “Why did you let me find out?”

Juice put his hat over his face for a moment so no one could see his expression. “You’re my best friend,” he said in a tight little voice. “I needed someone else to know.”

Jenn stayed quiet even longer. “Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Juice nodded. “I don’t want to but I probably will have to. Tomorrow.”

Jenn slipped her hand into Juice’s and the two friends sat that way till they got to the Plaza.

# # #

By the time the posse unloaded from the bus and trekked across the hot dusty parking lot, past Trader Joe’s and the bank and the restaurants at the edge of the big outdoor mall, the band had already set up in the middle and were doing a set of 80s songs. The wide paved courtyard in front of the bandstand had people standing around the edges and sitting on the benches to listen.

“I’m flipping into the Twilight Zone,” Shabeez sang along. She stepped out into the empty middle and began to dance. Juice watched a moment, looked from side to side at his friends and followed Shabeez onto the brick-textured concrete tiles. He began to bop in place, widening his movements to include Shabeez as she turned toward him.

“Wanna show’em how it’s done?” Shabeez asked him.

“Sure,” he said. They developed their dance, moving to the music and each other, either mirroring, syncopating or countering the other’s rhythm in a complex, improvised choreography.

The crowd around them thickened and a few other dancers attempted to join in but the show belonged to Shabeez and Juice. Finally, they were joined by an Hispanic boy about their age who could keep up with their increasingly wild innovation and add his own wrinkles.

“Shabeez!” the tall girl shouted, introducing herself.

“Juice!” shouted Justin.

“Bartolo!” shouted the boy. “You girls are good!”

“You, too,” Shabeez responded.

The three continued to dance through the rest of the set and the band made choices that enhanced the action. ZZ Top’s “Cheap Sunglasses” was followed by Wang Chung, the Bangles and Quiet Riot. When the break came the three dancers leaned against one another, smiling and trying to catch their breath.

Jenn came up and gave Juice a hug, almost at arms’ length. “Been awhile since I saw you really turn loose.”

Juice grinned. “Careful, I’m glowing here.”

On the stage, the singer commented to the bass player. “Those girls made the show for us, and the boy wasn’t bad either.”

“Uh huh,” said the bass player. “The little blonde is a natural.”