Read Online Body Slammed! by Ray Villareal - Free Book Online

Jesse, “Honk at them.”
    Jesse gave the horn a couple of beeps. Claudia Gutiérrez turned and stared at them. She started to wave, but then stopped and squinted, not sure if that was really Jesse behind the wheel.
    Jesse pulled up to the parking lot entrance. “Which way?”
    â€œTurn right. At the second light, make a left.”
    â€œWhere are we going?”
    â€œJust drive. I’ll tell you when we get there.”
    The speed limit was thirty-five, but Jesse drove a little under it, afraid of wrecking TJ’s car. He had driven at night, but only on the quiet streets in his neighborhood. Out here, because parents were picking up their kids, the traffic was heavy. But TJ didn’t appear worried about Jesse’s driving. He upped the volume on his car radio and tapped out the beat to “Money” by Pink Floyd.
    Jesse made a left on Hanson Road, where the speed limit increased to forty-five. He had never driven that fast. Cars seemed to zoom toward him at a hundred miles an hour. The road was sparsely lit, and Jesse was terrified that he would crash.
    After about fifteen minutes, TJ said, “Slow down. We’re here. Pull over to the right.”
    Jesse drove into the parking lot of a brown, brick building with a yellow neon sign that said ROMO’s. Below the restaurant’s name, orange neon lights in the shape of a pizza blinked on and off. The parking lot was covered with gravel rocks that crackled under the wheels of the car.
    When Jesse and TJ entered the restaurant, they were immediately met by a strong scent of garlic and oregano. Soft Italian music played in the background. The tables were made out of thick wood and had benches instead of chairs. A few customers were scattered throughout the dimly lit room.
    Two huge, middle-aged men who looked like ex-pro wrestlers sat at the bar drinking beers. The men waved at TJ, who returned their waves with a soldier’s salute. A woman wearing a red-and-white checkered shirt, tight jeans and cowboy boots welcomed them.
    â€œHello, Mona,” TJ said. “Say hi to Mark Baron’s kid, Jesse.”
    Mona’s face lit up. “Well, hi, sugar. You look just like your daddy.”
    Jesse hoped Mona had seen his father without his skeleton-face make-up. She led them to a table and handed them a pair of menus.
    After Mona left, Jesse asked TJ who the men at the bar were.
    â€œThe one with the shaved head is John Romo. He owns the place. Mona’s his wife. John used to operate the Southwest Wrestling Association before it folded, so he’s got a soft spot in his heart for pro wrestlers. A lot of the ACW boys like to eat here whenever they’re in town. The guy with him is Bulldog Danny Lane. He wrestled for John Romo years ago.”
    Jesse glanced around the room. Dozens of wine bottles hung from the ceiling. A large mural of a Tuscany vineyard was painted on the back wall. A number of black-and-white photos, including one of boxing champ Rocky Marciano fighting Archie Moore, covered the wall behind them.
    â€œI know, I know,” TJ said, as if he could tell what Jesse was thinking. “This place is a rat’s nest. But they’ve got the best pizza in town. Coldest beer, too. Want one?”
    His question took Jesse by surprise. “TJ, I’m not old enough to drink.”
    TJ sat his menu down. “I didn’t ask if you were old enough, Jesse. I asked if you wanted a beer.”
    â€œI . . . I’d better not,” Jesse said, hoping he hadn’t offended TJ by his refusal. Jesse had a birthday coming up in December, but he would only be turning seventeen, far from the legal drinking age. Besides, he didn’t think the restaurant would sell him a beer without checking his ID. The Romos weren’t going to risk losing their business by selling alcohol to a minor. Jesse had a feeling TJ was testing him to see how he would react.
    â€œHave you ever had a beer before?” TJ