Rico was sore and sweaty. He had managed to lap his teammates. They had gone into the men's room and changed into street clothes. Rico hadn't brought a change of clothing so he just lay on the bench resting.
"Hey, Rico, we're going for Pizza and beer, wanna come?"
"Nah, you go. I got a sideache, gonna walk it off."
He headed home with his skates, and was halfway there along a dark stretch of road when a truck pulled up.
"Yo, you live outback of the Carter place, right?" asked the driver, "why ya'll walking out here in that getup?"
"I was at ice racing practice, and decided to walk home."
"No one would give ya a lift?"
"Said I wanted to walk, besides they were going for beer and pizza."
"Well, I gotta few extra beers, an'the Carter Place is on my way. So how about you get in, an' have a beer an'get a ride. No charge."
"Beer does sound good," Rico said getting in, and taking the unopened ice cold can. He had no idea that the orange sale label covered a syringe hole. He popped the top and took a couple swigs. In five minutes, he'd be home. In two minutes, the beer was half gone, and Rico was slumped in his seat snoring.
He didn't notice the truck roar past his home or the high school. Chad did. He tried waking Rico, but whatever was in the beer can was pretty potent. If Rico ended up dead, no one would no what happened to Chad.