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Brian Hazelwood

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Brian Hazelwood

Armando kept telling me what to do and what not to do while I'm at the function. I shouldn't walk into a room without him. Don't eat anything that looks unassuming. Don't make any weird hand signs. And always stick around him.

That last one is easy to do.

"I'm going to hand this off and we'll spend a bit of time hanging out. Yeah?" Armando asked me.

"Let's do it!" I replied, my voice mixed with excitement and fear. Weed package in his arms, we walked forward onto the dry grass lawn of the house. I followed closely behind as he greeted people who mingled on the porch.

"Hurry up!" Armando yelled because of the music that was getting louder. I ran faster and ignored the weird stares people gave to me.

Inside the house was mostly filled with other people who all either drank or smoked or both. People danced against one another and grinded on each other. We moved to a side wall where we squeezed through the crowd.

Armando had to grab my hand to make sure I didn't get lost in the sea of people. And when we emerged from the crowd and into the kitchen, our hands were still together. He let my hand go and turned to look outside.

"There he is." Armando said. From the kitchen window, looking outside, was a small campfire with several men all huddled around. He looked around the kitchen and opened a bottom cupboard.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"In case there's a shooting, you'll need to hide somewhere if I'm not around." He said. He signaled to an empty cupboard under the sink. "This looks like a good place for you to hide in. You're petite enough to fit." He said.

"I'll make note of that." I said.

"Now I'm gonna go and turn this in and then we'll leave. Don't drink anything!" He said. He patted my hair and handed me his leather jacket to hold. I put it on and watched as he exited through the backdoor and went outside.

I watched as Armando greeted people. He also held the weed in his hands and was holding it out for someone.

"Oh my God!" A girl's voice shrieked out. I turned and saw two girls who were about my age all standing near the kitchen table and staring at me.

"Bitch! There's a white boy here!" The other girl said.

I blushed hard and wanted to melt. The two approached me and looked at me intently.

"Are you lost? Do we need to call someone? Alondra! Check the nearest Cracker Barrel!" She told her friend.

"Idiot! Maybe he doesn't like Cracker Barrel! That's racist! Here, why don't we walk you to Olive Garden?" Alondra said.

"Do you not hear yourself, you sack of idiot bitch!" The two girls bickered with each other while I stepped back and put my hand on the handle of the cupboard that Armando told me.

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