The police monitor said 23, in big blocky red letters.

We were traveling at the speed of stupid.

The shopping cart screamed down the hill, picking up speed despite the weight of the four bodies it was carrying. Chris was at the front, his eyes watering in the wind, blonde hair rapidly becoming more of a nest than it already was. His jean jacket was almost hitting me in the face; it was so close to coming right off over his head. I leaned to the left and the cart righted itself enough not to go tumbling over frontways.

Behind me, with his legs kicked over one side of the cart and his back against the other side, Liam let out a howl and pumped his fist in the air. The two chicks we’d just flown past looked at him with a mixture of stark disgust and reluctant desire. Liam was about six five, slim with close-cut red hair that whipped up behind his ears. He was by far the best looking of the four of us, and he let out a snigger at the two girls.

Hanging for dear life onto the bitch spot of the cart (this being the actual handle) Jimmy shot me a knowing smile and shifted his weight just a little to the right. This sent us all careening around the corner, as the hill’s steep incline began to let up a little. When the cart had finally come near stopping, Jimmy hopped off first and shook his head. He pulled half a comb out of his pocket and slicked his shaggy brown mane into place. Then he re-knotted his left Chuck, and looked over at the three of us.

See, that’s why Jimmy rides bitch, for wearing those goddamn Chuck Taylors. The rest of us have sense enough to purchase boots when we go downtown. But Jimmy won’t let go of the damn tennis shoes. Suit yourself, we told him, but that means you’re steering.

Right now Liam’s weaseling his way onto the ground, nearly tipping the whole cart over in the process. Chris nearly falls out, but plants his feet smoothly, catching his glasses when they leap off his face. I climb out carefully, stretch, and wonder how my jeans have managed to crawl halfway off my ass.

“Roger, buy a fucking belt already.” Chris barks as he walks past me, round to where Jimmy’s standing.

”Christopher, eat me.” I reply and pull my jeans up to a decent level.

“Hey, if Roger wants to advertise his sexuality, it is fine with me,” Liam smirks out, and as he walks by he belts me on the ass hard enough that I know it’ll leave a mark. The kid’s willowy like you couldn’t imagine; no muscle but some kinda force that you’d think he must’ve stolen.

I glare at Liam and attempt to trip his ass, but fall a little short and kick him in the shin instead. Not what I was aiming for, but it does the trick, because he’s hissing in pain a second later. Liam makes to strike back and Jimmy pipes up, “Chill ladies, let’s get some pizza, right?”

“Here here,” I call, and join up with the others as we make our way across the parking lot we’ve landed in.

If you can’t tell, we’re kind of a pack. People have said crew, but personally I’ve always thought we more resembled a collection of animals than a functioning group of humans. Ask anyone around town and they’ll tell you Liam is the alpha. They’ll tell you that, and they’ll be wrong. Liam’s just the one who does all the talking, bullshitting, and carousing. Liam’s also the youngest, loudest, and probably the only one I ever worry about as far as getting into trouble goes.

Don’t get me wrong now, we’re not bad people. We’re just a little…wild.

Anyway, Jimmy’s the leader, if there was one. He’s the second oldest behind Chris, and the one who keeps us in line, if you’d wanna call it that. Jimmy turned nineteen last August, and he’s the one you room with if you’re too drunk to talk. He’s also the one you call if you need twenty bucks or a place to sleep, or when your girl fucks you over and you just want to play Street Fighter til your hands cramp up. Jimmy takes a lot of shit from his old man, but bet your last smoke he won’t take it from anyone else.

“So what d’you guys want on it?” Chris asks when we enter the building.

See now, Chris is the upstanding citizen of us all. He’s the only one with a truly legitimate job, and usually the last one of us to be drunk, stoned, or caught. Chris is also the one with the money tonight, because the rest of us are flat broke. Naturally, the duty of ordering falls to him.

“Pepperoni,” I offer, “half pepperoni and half mushroom.” I add, remembering that Jimmy loves mushroom but also knowing that I despise it.

“And olives.” Liam adds. We all like olives, so it works.

“Alright, so half pepperoni-olive, half mushroom-olive?” Chris asks. Chris couldn’t give a damn what’s on it, as long as it’s food.

“Medium or large?” the girl at the counter asks. Sometimes I forget we all have a tendency to talk pretty loud. Well, aside form Jimmy, anyway.

About a half hour later, a large mushroom pepperoni olive pizza appears over the top of the counter, and I get up to retrieve it. It’s already past midnight by now and the four of us are really the only ones around. I grab the pizza and the two-liter of cola, and flash a smile at the girl behind the counter. Normally going for random chicks is Liam’s thing, but there’s something about this one that kind of catches my eye.

“You know,” I say, “working around food all day, s’gotta make you pretty hungry, right? Maybe after your shift’s up you ought to join us. I’ll save a ya a slice?”

She looks back at me and raises an eyebrow. “You hittin’ on me?”

“Tryin’, more or less,” I reply, “So what do you say?”

“I say you gotta be kidding me,” she says, and then pauses for a moment during which I try and kick my eyes into doing that irresistible thing people say they do sometimes. It must’ve worked because after another second she says, “Ah hell, why not?” and, “I get off in twenty minutes, you boys gonna stay here?”

“We’ll be outside.” I assure her, grab the food and turn without another word.

That’s the thing, you never let them know you’re all that interested, even if your heart does skip a little as you walk away. That’s how people end up married, that kind of thing, letting them know they can get to you.

When I get back to the boys, Liam strikes a dramatic pose of shock, and says, “Why Holy Christ, ladies and gents, Roger Darling has just made a move on a female human. The audience is stunned and amazed!”

At this Chris and Jimmy don identical looks of exaggerated amazement.

“So how many will this be for you?” Liam continues, “Negative six?”

It’s common knowledge among us that I am Roger, Who Does Not Date. Not that I’ve never hooked up with a girl, or anything. I mean, come on, guys like us? Ain’t one of us terrible-looking, and chicks really do dig what they think is a ‘bad boy’ vibe. But the way I acted around the pizza place girl was damn near chivalrous for any of us. And why did I? I don’t really know. A whim I guess, but still-

“I,” I begin in Liam’s general direction, “have the food, and if you’re gonna be a git, then I’m keeping it.” I say smugly and walk outside, still carrying the large pizza in one hand.

“Eh, leave Roger alone, he’s allowed to have a girl ya know.” Chris adds as the three of them follow me out. We all congregate in a circle, sitting against the wall of the place with the pizza and Coke between us. Chris then digs in first, Jimmy next and I third. Liam is just wrapping his face around a slice as Jimmy adds, “Yeah, especially after some of the hoe bags you have forced us to be civil to.”

With that he chomps into the slice of pizza and carefully laps up a long scalding string of cheese that’s making its way for his face.

“Pft, like who?” Liam defends, reaching for the two liter and easing it open.

“Diane.” Chris starts.

Jimmy and I nod. Diane was the one who none of us could smoke around. She had a laugh like a dying bird and frequently made me want to kick puppies with her long talks about he-said-she-said garbage.

“Susan.” I contribute, and the others nod.

Susan was the one who cheated on Liam not once, twice, or even three times, but four times with three different guys, before the kid finally gave up trying to house train her. Susan also had teeth like a broken fence and all the wit of an inchworm.

“Katie.” Jimmy says flatly, and Chris and I actually laugh at this one. Even Liam cracks a smile.

“But Katie was…well…” he attempts to justify but is at a loss for words, “well, she was easy anyway.” He gives a shrug of compliance and bites into a second piece of pizza.

“Well shit, Liam, so is bathing, but that doesn’t mean you need to do it six times a day.” Chris chimes, as Liam goes silent and the rest of us belt laughter.

“BUT ANYWAY,” Liam eventually retaliates, trying to shut up our prolonged chuckles, “we’re talking about Roger’s girl, here.”

“Not my girl,” I correct, munching the crust of a third piece of pizza.

“But you wish.” Liam prods.

“I don’t know?” I say uncertainly.

“I think,” Chris says, one hand going automatically to his chin, “that Roger must really like this girl. So are we gonna have to give her the usual?”

The usual is a general sort of…initiation that any girlfriend of the pack has to go through. It’s not what you’re thinking; just a rigorous sort of test to make sure the chick isn’t a total cunt. It’s about fifty different interrogatives that all come down to the idea of, ‘Are you going to be a ball and chain to our brother, or are you actually deserving of our common protection and acceptance?’

I tell them no, it was just a whim. And no, she probably won’t even give me her number.

‘Well why don’t you find out?” Jimmy says quietly, and scoots subtly over to make room. The girl is just approaching us as he speaks.

I wave up at her and indicate the spot next to me. There are still two or three squares of pizza left, and she reaches for a corner piece.

“I thought you looked familiar.” She says to me, sitting up and facing me more than before, “You’re Roger Pullman, right? I think we had Pre-Cal together last year?”

“We did…?” I say dumbly, and my face must match because from the corner of my eye I see Liam stifling a snigger. I knew she’d looked familiar but… and then it clicks. The chestnut hair, longer than most girls’ but full of choppy layers, the freckles across her cheeks, and the long legs behind her springy walk- Josie, Josie fucking Geller.

I exclaim the thought, minus the middle bit, and she smiles under the spark of my recognition.

“Hah, I figured you’d remember me.”

Oh shit. Josie Geller, second in our class, ex girl of Lewis Harris, captain of the football team… shit shit shit. I hadn’t recognized her with her hair up and under a hat, behind the counter at the pizza place, but fer sure without a doubt it was she. I pulled on a smile but the back of my brain was still marveling at my idiocy. The other three went quiet; they recognized the name, if not the face, and knew what came with it.

Josie Geller, the one who’d been caught on hands and knees in the teachers’ lounge with Lewis Harris? Yep. The one with the psychotic father, also, who’d come after the guy with a shotgun. Not to mention the mother who had actually sued Lewis’ parents. All this against their daughter’s wishes. Josie Geller, who no one had dared to get near since? Dang, fun stuff. She was internationally red-flagged for anyone who was looking for anything less than a lifetime commitment. Josie Geller was damaged goods.

Josie ate another slice of pizza with us, the other three introducing themselves in a matter only slightly abnormal from usual. After half an hour of civil yet borderline strained conversation, Josie Geller flipped open her phone, bit out a dainty curse word and explained that she had to leave. The pack offered a noncommittal “See ya.” But when Josie turned to me, I felt my stomach lurch a little. She was looking at me with some kind of smoldering gaze I was almost afraid to identify.

In front of everyone, she leaned in and kissed me, actually kissed me, and damn it if I couldn’t feel it all the way in my toes. Then she grabbed up my own phone from beside me, and punched in her number quick as ever.

“Call me sometime?” she said with a coy smile, then walked with fluid steps over to her car, and drove off.

And just about that fast, I knew that I could be in love with her. Not that I was, but that I could be. Motherfucker, I was enchanted with Josie Geller.

Chris lets out a long sighing sort of whistle when she’s gone, and looks at me through the concrete dark. “Some girl, eh? Too bad she’s fuckin’ untouchable.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a smoke, lights up and casts me a glance.

“Yeah.” I say shortly.

Chris gives a nod as if to say, “Well anyway” and Liam shifts to rise.

“Let’s get outta here, yeah? The night is young, after all.” He says and stretches.

“Yeah, what time is it?” Chris asks, and Liam checks, rattles off a number that indicates we’ve been out for three or four hours already, and proceeds to survey the area.

“So I’m thinking… Laura’s?” Liam says brightly, pointing in a general eastwardly direction.

“What’s there to do at Laura’s?” I ask.

‘What isn’t there to do at Laura’s? Come on, tally ho, bitches.” Liam calls briskly, and heads off in the direction he has just pointed. The rest of us follow, leaving the remains of the pizza where they were, with the two-liter almost empty and passing between us. After a block or so, Jimmy levels his pace with mine, and gives me a look that I can understand even in the shadowy dark that’s broken only by the occasional orange glare of a street light.

“You’re not really thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Jimmy asks me, sounding slightly offended.

“What are you talking about?” I say, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. Fucking Jimmy, he can see right through people.

“Josie.” He says anyway, knowing I know.

“What about her?” I play defensively.

He doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s waiting for me to go on. Ahead of us, Liam and Chris have started reminiscing about something that happened at Laura’s last spring.

Eventually I crack the silence with a sigh, “I didn’t know who she was at first, seriously. I mean… I know, I know, it’s Josie Geller. But so what, right? I didn’t do anything lawsuit-worthy.”

There’s a minute of silence while we walk, and then Jimmy breaks it by asking, “You gonna call her?”

“No.” I lie, quickly.

“Good,” he replies, then swaps me on the back, “Good man, she’s not worth the trouble anyway.”

A little while later we arrive at Laura’s, where three or four people are already over, half crocked and playing Mario Kart. Laura herself is lying on the floor with her feet up on a couch, and hollers for us to come in when we approach her front steps. She gets up and hugs each of us, Liam first, then Jimmy, Chris, me. I take seat and a glass and join everyone else, knowing it’s gonna be a long night.

By about six am we’ve all fallen into a sedated kind of paralysis. Two of the guys that were here before us (their names are Rick and Bobby) are half-asleep in the living room. The third one (Eric) is in one of the bathrooms, doing god knows what. Liam has disappeared, and Chris is half asleep on top of Laura’s right leg. Laura is all the way asleep on the floor. Jimmy is outside having a smoke, and I get up and head for the kitchen.

I sit down at Laura’s kitchen table, which is old and light and a little too tall, and lean my head back. I figure I’m only less than halfway to being shit-faced, so it’s all good. I have to work in about four hours, either way. Sometimes it pays to be able to hold your liquor, and also to work for your brother. Without even thinking about it, I slip my phone out of my pocket and thumb through the Contacts until I get to Josie’s.

I hit the options button and switch it over to Erase. I stare at it for a minute, and then switch to Call instead. With another few seconds of thought, I hit Send. It rings three times, and then Josie answers not by saying Hello, but with a giggle, and a “Hey.” I tell her it’s Roger, and that I’d like to do something tomorrow, if she isn’t busy. She says sure and I say great. Then there’s a pause after which I tell her that I really like her.

And this is the speed of stupid. And I am going to fall in love with Josie Geller.