I am 17. I’m in the back of a loafing van, driving around during lunch. Alistair throws a small packet of maple syrup at a stranger on the street but it never reaches her, as it first explodes on Joe’s shoulder.
Bosh, who received his licence hours earlier, crashes his car, and it is written off.
Trevor locks Alex outside of his car next to Wendy’s and drives away. He doesn’t go back for her, demonstrating a longer con, a more interesting resolution to the prank.
I’m drunk in the trunk of Joe’s car as he drives us all to McDonald’s then home, like every other Friday night. He stops in the Canadian Tire parking lot to intentionally run into potholes so that I bounce around. I don’t notice, and I fall asleep before the ride is over.
Trevor speeds up and laughs to Emily, “Watch. I’m going to hit this guy.” He neglects to slow down and does end up the offender in a rear-ender.
Romesh doesn’t really want to hang out after school, but his friends won’t accept this. He starts walking home when a few of the guys pull up in a van, jump out, and throw him in the back. They go back to one of their houses, where a couple of policeman show up an hour later to investigate a call from an elderly woman, who saw “a group of white men attack and kidnap a brown boy.”