(Ricky Fortino continued from A Day at the Beach)
[Note - in between threads Ricky did a bunch of stuff]
Ricky Fortino was drunk off his ass.
Man, fuck all y'all. Sure he was fuckin' drunk. Sambuca man. Stuff'll fuck you up.
He had vague memories of a bunch of shit going down way back at the beach the other day, but that stuff wasn't holding too well. He'd been looking for a fuckin' gun, he'd met Jamie Li, Logan Reynolds had gone off someplace like a fuckwit, and then that whatshername chick had had a gun and
ah hell, he didn't fuckin' know. He'd tried to get rid of that goddamn girl, and he must've succeeded, because the next thing he'd known he was heading off to the big fuckin' mansion that had been there. And nothing bad must've happened, because Jamie had been right there with him, and she'd actually been a pretty cool chick, right?
"Sure she fuckin' had been! And she'll be waiting for me back there once I pick up the rest of the class, ain't that right?"
Sure, the party had been rocking pretty hard. That must've been where Logan Reynolds had taken his ass to, cause he was there. Buncha people were there, even guys he didn't think had gone on the trip like Aaron Hicks and Brad the shitty junior quarterback were there. Brock'd been there, he'd still been trying to mack on Hilary Strand. Corrigan had been there, well of fuckin' course Corrigan had been there.
Ah, who the fuck else? Jason Clarke was there, but he must've done a pretty shitty job of getting the booze because Ricky had to rummage around a hell of a lot downstairs until he found some decent liquor. Most of the hockey team. Janet Claymont. That Rizzo kid. Tony Russo. Hermione Miller, fuckin' super-hottie. Fuck, even Everett had shown up. Good for him.
Feo'd been there, but for whatever fuckin' reason she'd been more interested in that Ethan jackoff, so Ricky'd finally said fuck that shit and gone off to hook up with Jamie instead.
He'd ended up crashing on the couch for a couple hours, and when he woke up in the morning for whatever goddamn reason his collar had started beeping at him. He'd blinked a couple times, and then came to the entirely sensible solution that that meant he needed to go out for a bit, find the rest of the kids that DIDN'T know about this awesome party just yet. That was totally it. Kids like Thea Kairos, he'd seen James Mulzet wandering around at some point and she totally needed to know that her boy toy was back at the house waiting for her.
So he'd grabbed a bottle of the booze, happy that he was still feeling buzzed but wasn't hungover in the least, and taken off, trusting in his good judgment that he'd go in the right direction.
"Fucking DARK in here!"
How in the fucking hell had he gotten his ass in these tunnels anyways? Whatever. He was bound to find someone if he just kept this goddamn flashlight in one hand and the Sambuca in the other and--
Ricky turned a corner and illuminated the three girls there. A smile bloomed on his face.
Oh yeah, here was the fuckin' jackpot.
"If it ain't my favourite chickadees. How you girls doing? And like, what the fuck are you doing way the fuck under here?"
He shook his head, good-naturedly.
"Ah, whatever. Look, you, uh, you all totally need to get back to the big fuckin' house down by the beach, I can, I can totally take you there. Heeey, Charlene, like uh, Aaron Hicks is totally waiting on you, I think he might start fucking Clio or something if you don't get there soon. Same with James, Thea, uh
except for the fucking Clio part."
Ricky brayed laughter at that thought. Oh yeah, James Mulzet fucking Clio Gabriella, that was fucking RICH. Where was he, again?
"Oh yeah, and you're ALWAYS welcome, Acacia girl. So come on, whatcha say?"
He held up the bottle of vinegar in his other hand, and took a swig, still smiling.
"We got booooooze down there, girls."