When I was in high school a group of miscreants dropped by my house and told me they were going to go to Mexico. I said, I can't go, I've got to go to school tomorrow.

They called me a faggot and left.

They made it as far as Galveston and ran out of money.

They then stole some stuff for gas money to get back to Decatur.

Of the four- two are dead, one is in prison and the other I have no idea.

Update: The fourth I have learned from the word on the street is a diesel mechanic and is supposedly doing well in the world. The last time I saw him was in a Chucky Cheese for a nephews birthday party. He was coincidentally there  and with a woman I knew to not be the wife I knew about before. They oddly stood around for a few minutes watching people play then they left.