I used to think getting yourself into trouble required making some big, stupid decision.
Something obvious.
Something you could look back on and say, Yep, that's where I fucked up.
But it doesn't always work that way.
Sometimes trouble comes disguised as a favor.
A ride across town. A quick stop at somebody's house. Waiting in a parking lot while your buddy handles something that supposedly doesn't concern you.
Nothing that seems important enough to worry about.
Until one day, you realize you've been doing it so long that nobody even bothers asking anymore.
They just expect you to show up.
And by then, saying no doesn't feel nearly as easy as it used to.
The workday dragged like hell.
We were pouring another storm shelter, and the Tennessee heat was already miserable before nine in the morning.
My shirt was soaked through, my boots were covered in concrete, and every time I bent over, I could feel yesterday's work pulling at my back.
Dre wasn't doing much better.
"Man, fuck this shit."
I looked over at him.
"You say that every day."
"Because every day this shit sucks."
"Then quit."
He stopped shoveling and looked at me.
"You gonna pay my probation fines?"
"Hell no."
"Then shut the fuck up."
I laughed.
He went back to working.
We'd gotten into a rhythm over the last couple of weeks. Dre was still learning some things, but he wasn't completely useless anymore.
He knew how to get the forms ready, how to help guide the concrete, and how to clean everything before it hardened into something we'd have to beat off with a hammer.
He was getting better.
Our boss had even mentioned it.
That meant something to Dre.
He tried to act like he didn't care what anybody thought, but I could tell he liked hearing he'd done a good job.
Most people probably didn't tell him that very often.
Around ten, we stopped for a cigarette break.
Dre leaned against the side of the building and pulled out his phone.
He had three missed calls.
"Goddamn," he muttered.
"Popular today?"
"Apparently."
He started typing.
I took a drink of water.
"You still need to stop somewhere after work?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"Out past the other side of town."
"That's specific."
He laughed.
"Man, I'll tell you where to go."
"How long is this gonna take?"
"Ten minutes."
I stared at him.
He grinned.
"Alright, maybe fifteen."
"You're buying gas."
"Already planned on it."
He went back to his phone.
I watched him for a second.
"What's so important you gotta go all the way out there?"
He shrugged.
"Just picking up something for somebody."
"What something?"
"Man, why you always asking so many questions?"
I laughed.
"Because it's my fucking car."
He looked up.
For a second, I thought he was going to get irritated.
Instead, he smiled.
"Fair enough, JC."
Then he slipped the phone into his pocket.
"Nothing that's gonna hurt you, bro. Promise."
That was enough for me.
It shouldn't have been.
But it was.
We finished up a little after three.
I was ready to go home, take a shower, and sit in front of the television until I fell asleep.
Instead, I was driving Dre toward a part of town I rarely had any reason to visit.
The neighborhoods got older the farther we went.
Small houses with peeling paint. Chain-link fences. Cars sitting on flat tires in driveways. Empty lots where buildings had probably stood years earlier.
Dre had the window cracked and was smoking a cigarette.
"Turn up here."
I made the turn.
"Where the hell are we going?"
"Just up the road."
"You said that five miles ago."
"Man, you complain more than a woman."
"Keep talking and you can walk."
He laughed.
We passed a little church and turned onto a narrow residential street.
Dre pointed toward a house near the end of the block.
"Right there."
I slowed down.
It was a small, single-story house with faded siding and a couple of plastic chairs on the porch.
A dark-colored SUV was parked in the driveway.
"Pull up behind that truck."
I stopped.
Dre unbuckled his seat belt.
"Be right back."
"How long?"
"Five minutes."
I looked at the clock.
"Starting now."
He laughed and climbed out.
I watched him walk up to the porch and knock.
A man opened the door.
I couldn't hear what they said, but they greeted each other like they knew each other pretty well.
Then Dre went inside.
I sat there with the engine running.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
I started getting irritated.
Not scared.
Not nervous.
Just pissed off that I was sitting in somebody's driveway after working all day.
I pulled out my phone and texted Crystal.
Gonna be a little late. Dropping Dre off somewhere.
She replied almost immediately.
Okay. I'm making dinner around six.
I'll be home before then.
I put the phone away.
A few minutes later, Dre came back outside carrying a small black bag.
He opened the passenger door and climbed in.
"Good to go."
I looked at the bag.
"What's that?"
"Just some stuff."
"Some stuff?"
He smiled.
"Man, drive."
I didn't move.
"Dre."
He looked at me.
"What?"
"Don't be putting no crazy shit in my car."
His expression changed.
Not angry.
More serious.
"JC, you think I'd do you like that?"
"I don't know what you're doing."
He looked down at the bag, then back at me.
"It's not what you think, bro."
"What do I think?"
He laughed.
"Man, you're something else."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of twenties.
"Here. For gas and your time."
I looked at the money.
"Dude, I don't need forty dollars to drive you somewhere."
"Then buy Crystal something."
I hesitated.
Then I took it.
He smiled.
"See? Everybody happy."
I put the car in drive.
And just like that, the conversation was over.
We made one more stop before heading home.
A gas station near the highway.
Dre went inside while I filled the tank.
When he came back out, he had two drinks and a bag of chips.
He handed me one of the drinks.
"Here, bro."
"Appreciate it."
He leaned against the car.
"You know what your problem is, JC?"
I laughed.
"Here we go."
"You worry too much."
"Somebody's gotta."
"Nah, man. You gotta learn to relax."
I tightened the gas cap.
"Easy for you to say. It's not your car."
He nodded.
"I get that."
Then he looked at me.
"Seriously, though. I ain't trying to get you caught up in nothing."
I leaned against the driver's door.
"Then don't."
He held out his fist.
"Never, bro."
I bumped it.
That was the end of it.
At least in my mind.
I didn't ask what was in the bag again.
I didn't ask who lived in the house.
And I didn't ask why somebody needed Dre to drive across town to pick something up.
I just took him where he needed to go.
Then I took him home.
When I finally pulled into my driveway, Crystal was sitting on the front porch.
She looked up as I climbed out.
"You're late."
"Not that late."
She looked at her phone.
"It's almost six-thirty."
"Had to take Dre somewhere."
"Again?"
I walked up the steps.
"Yeah."
She stood and kissed me.
"You smell terrible."
"That's what happens when you work for a living."
She laughed.
"Go take a shower."
I started toward the door.
Then she asked, "Where'd you have to take him?"
I stopped.
"Somewhere across town."
"For what?"
"Picking something up."
She looked at me.
"What?"
I shrugged.
"Didn't ask."
Her expression changed.
"Jay."
"What?"
"You drove somebody all the way across town to pick something up, and you don't even know what it was?"
"Crystal, it's Dre."
"That doesn't answer my question."
I sighed.
"He needed a ride. I gave him one. That's it."
She crossed her arms.
"Okay."
There it was again.
That word.
Okay.
Not because she agreed.
Because she didn't feel like arguing.
I walked inside.
And for the rest of the evening, neither of us mentioned it.
The next couple of days went by without anything unusual happening.
We worked.
We came home.
Dre stopped by a few times, but he didn't stay long.
Crystal seemed fine with him being around.
One evening, she even asked if he wanted to stay for dinner again.
He couldn't.
Said he had something to take care of.
I didn't think much of it.
By Friday, I was looking forward to having two days off.
We'd finished cleaning up the yard when Dre walked over, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Yo, JC. You doing anything tonight?"
"Probably sitting on my ass."
He laughed.
"Sounds exciting."
"After this week? Hell yeah."
He leaned against my car.
"Stackhouse might be coming around later."
I looked at him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Said he wanted to holler at me."
"About what?"
Dre shrugged.
"Business."
I nodded.
I'd been around Stackhouse enough by then to know he wasn't somebody who wasted much time talking about nothing.
He had a way of making even ordinary conversations feel important.
When Stackhouse spoke, people listened.
And Dre definitely listened.
"You going over there?" I asked.
"Probably."
"Well, have fun."
Dre smiled.
"Man, you can come too."
"Nah. I'm good."
"Come on, JC. Ain't like we doing anything."
"I got Crystal at home."
"Bring her."
I laughed.
"Yeah, I'm sure she'd love that."
He grinned.
"Man, I'm just saying."
I shook my head.
"Maybe another time."
He didn't push it.
That was something I appreciated about Dre.
He could be persistent, but he usually knew when to leave something alone.
At least when it came to me.
That evening, Crystal and I were sitting on the couch watching television when my phone rang.
Dre.
I answered.
"What's up?"
"Yo, JC. What you doing?"
"Watching TV."
"Crystal there?"
"Yeah."
"Tell her I said what's up."
I looked over.
"Dre says what's up."
She smiled.
"Tell him hey."
I put the phone back to my ear.
"She said hey."
"Listen, bro. You think you could do me a favor tomorrow?"
I closed my eyes.
"What now?"
He laughed.
"Man, don't start."
"What do you need?"
"Just a ride."
"Where?"
"Not far."
I looked over at Crystal.
She was watching me now.
"What time?"
"Probably around noon."
I thought about it.
Saturday.
No work.
Nothing planned except spending time with Crystal.
"Can't promise you anything."
"Come on, JC. I'll make it worth your time."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Let me see what's going on."
"Alright, bro. Just hit me in the morning."
"Alright."
I hung up.
Crystal was still looking at me.
"What?"
"Another ride?"
"Yeah."
She shook her head.
"Does Dre ever go anywhere by himself?"
I laughed.
"Apparently not."
"I'm serious, Jay."
"So am I."
She turned the television down.
"Why does he always need you to drive him everywhere?"
"Because I have a car."
"Other people have cars."
"Yeah, and other people give him rides too."
She looked at me for a moment.
"You're not getting paid to do anything illegal, are you?"
The question caught me off guard.
"What?"
"That money he keeps giving you."
"It's gas money."
"Jay."
"What?"
She sighed.
"I just don't want you getting mixed up in something stupid."
"I'm not."
"You don't even know what he's doing half the time."
I didn't have a good answer for that.
So I went with the one I always used.
"Crystal, I know Dre. He's not gonna put me in a bad situation."
She looked down at her hands.
"I hope you're right."
I reached over and pulled her closer.
"Everything's fine."
She leaned against me.
And eventually, we went back to watching television.
But I could tell the conversation was still bothering her.
I just didn't want to deal with it.
Saturday morning, I woke up around nine.
Crystal was already downstairs.
I could hear her moving around in the kitchen.
I grabbed my phone.
Two missed calls from Dre.
One text.
Yo JC hit me when you wake up
I stared at it for a minute.
Then I called him.
"What's up?"
"Morning, bro."
"What you need?"
"You still good for later?"
"Depends where we're going."
He paused.
"Need to go see Stackhouse."
I sat up.
"Why?"
"Man, just gotta talk to him about something."
"Then why do you need me?"
"Because I need a ride, fool."
I laughed.
"You're ridiculous."
"Come on, JC. I'll throw you some money."
I looked toward the bedroom door.
I could hear Crystal downstairs humming along with the radio.
"Let me talk to Crystal."
Dre laughed.
"Man, you gotta get permission?"
"Fuck you."
"I'm playing, bro."
"I'll call you back."
"Alright."
I hung up.
Then I sat there for a minute.
I didn't really want to go.
Not because I thought something bad was going to happen.
I just wanted to spend the day at home.
But Dre had helped me out plenty of times.
He'd given me money when I was short.
Bought food.
Thrown gas in my car.
And he was my friend.
What kind of friend was I if I couldn't give him a ride?
That's how I looked at it.
I wasn't thinking about consequences.
I was thinking about loyalty.
When I went downstairs, Crystal was making breakfast.
She looked over.
"Morning."
"Morning, babe."
I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist.
She smiled.
"You're in a good mood."
"Got to sleep past five-thirty."
She laughed.
"Must be nice."
I kissed her cheek.
Then I said, "Dre wants me to take him somewhere later."
She stopped stirring the eggs.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"To see Stackhouse."
She turned around.
"Why?"
"Something he needs to talk to him about."
She stared at me.
"And you have to be there?"
"No. I'm just driving."
She sighed.
"Jay, we were supposed to spend the day together."
"I know."
"Then tell him no."
I leaned against the counter.
"It's only gonna take a little while."
"You said that the other day."
I didn't say anything.
She looked at me.
"I'm not trying to tell you who you can be friends with."
"I know."
"But it's like every time we have a day together, Dre needs something."
I looked down.
She wasn't wrong.
And that bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
"Alright," I said. "I'll tell him I can't."
She looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
She smiled a little.
"Thank you."
I pulled out my phone and texted Dre.
Can't today bro. Me and Crystal got plans.
He replied a few minutes later.
All good JC
Then another message.
Appreciate you anyway
I put the phone away.
That should've been the end of it.
And for most of the day, it was.
Crystal and I spent the afternoon together.
We went out for lunch, stopped at a couple of stores, and drove around for a while with no particular destination.
It felt good.
No rushing.
No phone calls.
No sitting in parking lots waiting for somebody.
Just the two of us.
At one point, Crystal reached over and held my hand while I was driving.
"This is nice," she said.
"What is?"
"Just spending time together."
I smiled.
"Yeah."
"I missed this."
I looked over at her.
"Me too."
She squeezed my hand.
And for a little while, I felt like I was doing things right.
I had a girlfriend who loved me.
A steady job.
A house to come home to.
I wasn't rich, but I wasn't starving.
There were people who would've given anything to have what I had.
I knew that.
I just didn't always appreciate it.
We got home a little after five.
Crystal went upstairs to change, and I sat down on the couch.
My phone rang.
Dre.
I answered.
"Yo."
"What's up, JC?"
"Nothing. Just got home."
"How was your day with the old lady?"
I laughed.
"Good, man."
"That's what's up."
He sounded different.
Not upset.
Just tired.
"You good?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Get everything handled?"
"Most of it."
I could hear voices in the background.
Then somebody said something I couldn't make out.
Dre covered the phone for a second.
When he came back, his voice was lower.
"Yo, listen. Stackhouse was asking about you."
I sat up.
"Me?"
"Yeah."
"What for?"
"Just asking how you been doing."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"Man, I don't know. He likes you."
I laughed.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means he thinks you're solid."
I didn't know what to say to that.
I'd never really considered whether Stackhouse liked me.
He was Dre's friend.
Somebody I knew through him.
That was it.
At least that's what I'd always assumed.
Dre continued.
"He said you seem like a good dude. Got your own house, your own car, keep a job. You ain't out here doing dumb shit."
I smiled a little.
"Well, he's not wrong."
Dre laughed.
"See? That's what I'm saying."
Then he added, "He said people like you are hard to find."
I leaned back against the couch.
Something about that statement stuck with me.
Not because it sounded threatening.
Because it sounded like a compliment.
And everybody likes being appreciated.
Especially by somebody who seems to have more money, more connections, and more influence than you do.
"Well, tell him I said what's up," I replied.
"Already did, bro."
We talked for another minute before hanging up.
I set the phone on the coffee table.
Crystal came downstairs a few minutes later.
"Who was that?"
"Dre."
She smiled.
"Of course."
I laughed.
"Relax. He wasn't asking for a ride."
"That's a first."
I grinned.
She sat beside me and turned on the television.
I didn't mention Stackhouse.
Not because I was hiding anything.
I just didn't think it mattered.
That night, after Crystal went to bed, I stayed downstairs for a while.
The television was on, but I wasn't paying much attention.
I kept thinking about what Dre had said.
He thinks you're solid.
People like you are hard to find.
It felt good hearing that.
I'd never been the kind of guy who needed everybody's approval.
But there was something about being respected by people like Dre and Stackhouse that made you feel different.
Like you mattered.
Like you were somebody they could count on.
And I guess, in a way, I was.
I had a car.
I had a house.
I had a job.
I wasn't constantly getting arrested or drawing attention to myself.
I was dependable.
At the time, I thought those were all good things.
And they were.
But I didn't understand that the same qualities that made me a decent employee, a good boyfriend, and a reliable friend also made me useful to people who lived very different lives.
To them, my normal life wasn't just something to respect.
It was something they could use.
Monday morning, I pulled up outside Dre's place at the usual time.
He came walking out carrying his lunch and a cigarette.
He climbed in.
"What's good, JC?"
"Same shit, different day."
He laughed.
We headed toward work.
For a while, we just listened to the radio.
Then Dre looked over at me.
"Yo, Stackhouse said something else about you."
I glanced at him.
"What?"
"He said next time you come around, he wants to holler at you."
I laughed.
"About what?"
Dre shrugged.
"Don't know, bro."
"Then why'd he say that?"
"Man, probably just wants to talk."
I shook my head.
"About what?"
Dre looked at me and smiled.
"Maybe he got something for you."
I didn't answer.
He turned back toward the windshield.
"Don't worry about it, JC. It's all good."
I kept driving.
And I wanted to believe him.
Because until then, everything had been simple.
Dre needed rides.
I gave him rides.
Sometimes he gave me gas money.
Sometimes he bought lunch.
Sometimes he came over and ate dinner with me and Crystal.
Just friends helping each other out.
But somewhere along the way, Stackhouse had started paying attention.
And the part I didn't understand was that he wasn't paying attention to what I was doing.
He was paying attention to what I could do.
I thought I was just helping Dre.
Stackhouse was beginning to see something else.
And before long, he was going to stop asking Dre about me.
He was going to start asking me himself.