"No, I really don't think, you should bother with him." Rosco shrugged slightly. He was taller now. A little taller than Bree. He sighed, picturing her, but he would certainly..NOT go there about Bree, with Cho.
It was just the two of them in the twilight of Smoker's Hill. The pinks and purples of the sky were turning dark. They could barely see each other.
Rosco hit the heel of his boot against a rock the size of his fist, stuck in the dirt. It was something to take out his angst. He wished Cho would forget about Randy.
"What's there to like about that pretty boy, anyway?" Rosco asked point blank. He'd been meaning to ask, but as of late, he had someone to eat lunch with and hang out with, after school. Even if it were down at the pool hall.
"What? I dunno." Cho shrugged back. He found the empty swing set. Just two empty swings. It was what was left of the old playground that used to be here. He sat himself down, but didn't swing. "He's just..."
"Nobody, likes me, you know." Rosco just said, as he plopped himself down.
"I know." Cho made it sound as if was a given. "But hey, what do they know?" Cho's smile gave way. Rosco chuckled slightly. Something about Cho made it sound as if everything would be OK. Some day.
Cho had carried the six pack of beer all the way here in his backpack. The top of the bottles were eating away at his back, but he had been content. He'd stolen it from his father's fridge in the garage. The beer had been there since Thanksgiving. He decided it needed to be used. Of course, he'd stopped by the Cum&Go for a bundle of tootsie pop suckers. He couldn't bare a sip of beer without a tootsie-pop sucker in his mouth.
He offered Rosco a sucker. Rosco took it with hesitation. Next Cho pulled out a beer and twisted the top off.
"Woo..how did you score, this?" Rosco was happy now.
"You, don't want to know." He told him he didn't do these sort of thing all that often.
Finally, Rosco came around to drinking beer like Cho did. Not too fast, and possible enjoying the sucker more than the beer.
Cho sighed, wondering what he could say about these homemade fireworks Rosco brought along. For all he knew, they might have been bombs.
He winced when he saw the mess Rosco constructed.
"I dunno, if I can do this..if it hurts my ears..." Cho practically frown, but he did have a sucker in his mouth. It wasn't that obvious.
Rosco didn't talk about guns and ammo like he usually did. He was a pretty good shot or so he said. He'd been on a skeet shooting team since the time he was nine.
"Don't you.. go to nationals or something, next month?" Cho told him, he must be amazing. "Maybe, you'll be a sharp shooter on a SWAT team, some day."
"Yeah, you got skills, man, don't want to mess that up." Cho looked down at the ammo he'd put into his firework.
Rosco nursed on the sucker for the longest time. Finally, Rosco asked Cho if he'd seen the finale of the WALKING DEAD,
Cho shook his head, no.
"Lets go to my house." Rosco left his artillary in the shopping bag. "They said that kid on the show looks and awful lot like me."
He smiled. Cho smiled back. They'd hardly drank a bottle of beer. Maybe if Cho was lucky, his Dad wouldn't miss the beer at all. He did have several six packs of beer in the fridge.