Shattered Soul

by Jennifer Snyder

  “Four quarters of some pretty decent shit, and twenty footballs,” he confirmed. “I need at least two thirty for it.”

  I nodded and unrolled one of the sandwich bags to see for myself how decent it was. The unmistakable aroma of marijuana wafted in my nose and I smiled.

  This shit would be so easy to sell.

  It was straight up good quality mids, something that would sell like hot cakes.

  “Here’s some more baggies in case you need them,” Calvin said, tossing a handful in my lap.

  “Cool,” I muttered and got up to head to my room, ready to separate at least three of them into smaller portions; I’d make more money that way.

  I separated it as quickly as I could. I don’t think I’d ever rolled joints that fast before, it must have been some kind of world record. I also stashed a few nugs into my old tin box before leaving for school in a hurry. I needed to get to the smoking trees a little early today, that’s where I’d do the majority of my business.

  Nine people were standing under the trees when I got there. I walked straight to a guy named Joe I’d had biology with last year. I knew he was cool because I’d smoked with him before.

  “Can I bum one of those?” I asked, nodding to the Marlboro menthol he held in his hand.

  “Sure thing, man,” he said, digging the pack out of his pocket and handing me one.

  “Thanks,” I said, lighting it. “You know anyone lookin’ for anything?”

  He took a drag off his cigarette and glanced at me. “I might, what you got?”

  “Some high quality mids and a few footballs.”

  “Hold on a sec,” he insisted, holding a finger up.

  I nodded and watched him walk over to a clump of three people, one girl and two guys. About a minute passed as some heavy debating must have been going on among the group. I enjoyed my cigarette and waited patiently, sure they’d want something or else he wouldn’t have asked them.

  From the corner of my eye I saw him pocket some money and start back in my direction.

  “How much a piece for the footballs?”

  “Four bucks.” I answered firmly. Joe’s face scrunched while he contemplated my price.

  I’d tacked on a dollar and he knew it, they should be going for three a piece, but I was sure they’d still pay.

  Supply and demand.

  By the end of the day, once word spread around I had them, I could charge five or six for one. People would bitch, no doubt. But the reality was, I had what they wanted, and they’d pay anything to get it.

  “I’ll take three,” he said, handing me twelve bucks from his pocket.

  I shoved the money into my pocket and turned my back towards the school before pulling out the zip-lock baggie and handing him three.

  “Thanks, man,” he said.

  “Not a problem, let me know if you hear of anyone else lookin’.”

  “Will do,” he muttered, walking back towards his group. He’d be back with another order before the first bell rang, that was how it always worked.

  Trip, my most loyal customer, pulled into the parking lot revving his engine, as usual.

  “What’s up, what’s up?” he asked, walking up to me a few minutes later.

  “Not much, man,” I replied. “Got any cash on you to spend?”

  His eyes grew wide. “Why? What you got?”

  “Reefer, footballs, take your pick.”

  “Got a quarter? I’m almost out,” he said, putting an unlit cigarette to his lips.

  “Yep.”

  “Decent?”

  “Of course. I’d sell it to anyone else for sixty-five, but because it’s you, I’ll let it go for fifty-five,” I insisted.

  I knew Trip would have the money on him, just because he drove an old beater and hung out with the stoners didn’t mean his parents didn’t have money. And as for the price, I wasn’t lying. I had planned on selling it for sixty-five to someone. I had to make a profit somewhere. At fifty-five I’d only be making five bucks, but it was better than nothing.

  “Sold,” he said, getting his wallet out of his back pocket.

  With our backs towards the school, we made our exchange smoothly and Trip walked back to his car to drop the bag in the glove compartment.

  I ended up selling five joints at five bucks each and six more footballs at four all before first period. One hundred and sixteen dollars total. I still needed one hundred and fourteen more, though, to get Calvin his two thirty.

  I’d have to count on word of mouth to get me the rest.

  On my way to Mrs. Gilbert’s class, I passed the water fountain in the hall and was tempted to pop one of the footballs in my pocket, but unlike Calvin, I had enough sense to stay out of my own sell pile.

  I stepped through the threshold of class just as Ali was sliding into her seat. She looked amazing again today, in a pair of dark denim shorts and a baby blue tank top with her hair down.

  I went straight to my seat and slid in without looking at her, wondering if she would notice me.

  “Hey,” she said a second later. Apparently, she’d noticed me.

  I nodded. “Hey.”

  “Did you make another detour to the water fountain before class today?” she asked, grinning.

  I smirked. “I wish.”

  She sighed. “Me, too.”

  Her response shocked me a little. So what, now we had something in common? The urge to get high. An idea came to me then, if I could sell nine of those footballs for five each and a skimpy half-quarter or a few joints for six bucks each to some fairly stupid, or desperate people, I could keep two of the Xanax. One for me, and one for her.

  “Got any plans after school?” I asked, hoping she’d say no.

  She turned to face me. “Nope, why?”

  “Wanna do something fun?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Sounds good.”

  The tardy bell rang and Mrs. Gilbert closed the door. I watched Ali twist back around in her seat to face the front and I couldn’t help but grin. She was always so good, even when she was contemplating being bad.

  First period dragged by slowly, which for once, was fine. Ali and I flirted a little, as much as we could while remaining silent.

  Once class was over we walked out into the hall together.

  “Want me to pick you up by the smoking trees this afternoon like yesterday?” she asked.

  “Yeah, that’s cool.” I mumbled, hoping I didn’t look like I was blushing. I for once, couldn’t stop smiling.

  “It’s a date, then.” She winked and walked away.

  During lunch I got extremely close to my quota, and there was no doubt in my mind I wouldn’t either make it or surpass it by this afternoon. Word had traveled fast.

  As soon as the bell rang, dismissing us for the day, I booked it towards the smoking trees. I had to get rid of what little I had left before Ali got there.

  Only a handful of people stood underneath the trees when I walked up, Miranda Cooper being one of them.

  “Hey, Seth. Heard you had something else for me today,” she said in that raspy, sexy voice of hers.

  I smirked, I knew what she was trying to pull. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have that kind of affect on me.

  “Only if you’ve got some money.”

  She pouted a little. “What, no trade out today?” She held up her pack of Newports.

  I wanted one, I wanted one badly, but I couldn’t do it.

  “Fine,” she frowned. “Got a joint?”

  “Sure do. Five bucks and it’s yours.” I said.

  Miranda dug in her back pocket and pulled out a five. I handed her a joint and spotted Joe walking towards us. I hoped he had another order for me.

  “Hey, man. What’s up?” Joe asked, handing me another Marlboro menthol as he got one out for himself. “Got anything left?”

  “What do you need?” I countered.

  “At least a quarter and however many footballs you got left,” he insisted.

  I was happy, I’
d be able to get rid of it all in one shot, and all before Ali pulled up.

  “I got a quarter left, it’s all split up though, and three footballs.”

  “Ouch, those went fast. I figured they would. How much?”

  “Forty-five.” I said and saw him grimace a little. “Last chance of the day, man.” I added, hoping to persuade him.

  He reached for his wallet. “True.” He pulled out a wad and handed it to me. “Should be forty-five.”

  I nodded and began counting before I handed anything to him.

  Trip walked up to us. “What’s up, guys?”

  “Nothing much,” Joe said.

  There was forty-five there. I nodded to Trip as I reached into my pocket, he inched closer to me for cover. I handed Joe everything I had, except for those two footballs. It was a smooth transaction and then we spaced out some.

  A few seconds later, Joe walked away with a pocket full of goodies, taking my place as middle-man.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Trip wondered.

  “Already got plans, Ali will be here in a minute,” I said smoothly.

  His hand gripped my shoulder. “What? Are you guys like an item now?”

  Ali pulled up before I could answer. I was thankful, because I wasn’t sure what we were, but I knew what I wanted us to be. She had dark sunglasses on and her windows were rolled all the way down, letting the breeze wisp strands of her hair around.

  “What’s up, Ali?” Trip asked in an overexcited tone.

  “Not much,” she answered him. “Ready, Seth?”

  I elbowed Trip. “Shot down,” I mumbled. I walked to the passenger side and climbed in.

  “Where to?”

  “My house first,” I answered while I buckled up.

  She sped off, but not nearly as fast as yesterday. I tossed my hand out the window and waved to Trip as we drove away.

  The look on his face was priceless.

  “Left?” she asked once we got to the stop sign.

  I nodded.

  The car in the driveway was the first thing I noticed when we pulled up. Calvin was home. I wasn’t stressed, though, I figured he would be sleeping.

  My plan was to sneak into the house as quietly as possible, shove his money I’d made under my mattress, and grab a joint for us from my box, and all without waking anyone up.

  “Wait here. I’ll be right back,” I muttered, opening the passenger door.

  “Okay.”

  I walked through the front door, praying I didn’t wake anyone who might be passed out in the living room. I didn’t.

  Brent was zonked out in the recliner, mouth open and snoring. Mom was in her favorite pass out zone, the couch. Calvin and Jade were nowhere to be seen, I assumed they were passed out in Calvin’s room.

  I practically tip-toed to my room. I shoved the wad of cash under my mattress, keeping out what little I’d made for myself, and went to my dresser for a joint.

  I made it back to the car without waking anyone, which brought on the biggest sense of relief I’d felt all day.

  “Where to now?” Ali asked as I slid in and buckled up again.

  I grinned and began giving her directions to one of my favorite smoke spots. We passed a gas station along the way and I had her stop. I used the ten dollars I’d made to buy two waters and some munchies.

  It was four ten when we finally reached my spot.

  Chapter Four

  “What is this place?” she asked, stepping out and slamming her car door shut.

  “One of my favorite smoke spots. It’s a little covered wooden bridge over the river no one hardly ever comes to now that they redid the park at the other end of town.” I said, wondering whether she’d care if I reached out and took her hand in mine.

  She glared at me. “Is this the something fun?”

  “Only part,” I replied. I took a chance and interlaced my fingers with hers. She didn’t pull away, which brought a smile to my face.

  We started up the concrete steps that led to a gravel path.

  “I’ve only smoked like maybe three times,” she admitted, biting her bottom lip, and I felt like she’d just told me she was a virgin.

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I brought two footballs with me, too, in case you want one of those instead.”

  “I want to,” she smiled. “You come here a lot?”

  “Yeah, especially in the summer. Trip and some others from school, we always chill here and smoke or whatever.” We continued down the path, her hand still in mine.

  “Trip, is that his real name?”

  I chuckled. “Nah, his real name’s Bradley McAlister.”

  She laughed. “Really? Where did Trip come from, then?”

  “Trip’s always been pretty tall, and before he became accustomed to his height he used to be extremely clumsy. Once, in the seventh grade, a dude called him trip and it just stuck.” I shrugged.

  “Oh. So, you guys been friends your whole life or something?”

  “Pretty much.” A lop-sided grin spread on my face as I thought about goofy Trip and how long I’d known him. “You have any friends you’ve known practically your whole life?”

  “No. We’ve moved around too much,” she mumbled. Sadness crossed her features and it bothered me to see her that way.

  “Why?” I wondered. We were almost to the bridge now.

  “My mom is a writer. We move every year or two, or however long it takes her to finish a book and get her first check. She says new places hold new energies, and new energies help keep her creative juices flowing.”

  “That’s got to suck,” I muttered. A slight pang of paranoia sliced through me. How long would she be able to live here?

  Ali sighed. “Yeah. When I was younger, I thought it was kind of cool because I got a fresh start every few years. Now, always being the new girl has gotten old.”

  “I can only imagine what that must be like; I’ve lived here my whole life.”

  “I envy you.”

  No one had ever envied me before. If she knew everything about me, she would never feel that way.

  “So, is it just you and your mom?” I asked, trying to shake the depressing thoughts lurking in the corners of my mind.

  “No. My dad, too.” Her eyes shifted to mine and a cocky grin came on her face. “He’s a cop.”

  Shock slammed me in the gut, and I couldn’t help but grin at the irony. Here I was a third generation drug dealer, the biggest waste in every cop's eyes, dating a police officer's daughter.

  “You going to have him arrest me for getting you high?” I smirked.

  She chuckled. “I’m not a snitch.”

  “I’m holding you to that,” I joked as we finally came to the bridge.

  I walked to the center and fished the joint and pills I’d brought for us out of my front pocket before I sat down. Ali sat across from me, Indian style, with a big shit-eating-grin on her face.

  I smiled. “What?”

  “Nothing, I just can’t believe I’m doing this!” she admitted in a giddy tone.

  My smile wavered as I stared at her. Suddenly, she seemed so innocent and pure. I didn’t want to give her what was in my hand. Hell, I almost hated myself for even having offered. Staring at her, a need inside of me I’d never felt for anyone before came to the surface of my mind, the need to protect. Before I could close my hand around the pills, she snatched hers out and popped it into her mouth.

  “I don’t have all night.” She took a swig of her water and swallowed. “I’m supposed to be home by eleven.”

  I blinked, too late to tell her no now. I popped mine into my mouth and washed it down.

  “You have a curfew?” I asked. I’d never had a curfew in my life, guess that wasn’t something to brag about, though.

  Ali seemed shocked. “You don’t? Lucky!”

  “No, you’re the one who’s lucky. You’ve got parents who care,” I replied, rolling the joint I still held in my hand between my fingers.

&nb
sp; She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t believe how much I’d just sounded like an after school special.

  I put the joint to my mouth and nibbled off one of the tips before lighting it. I took a long pull and held it in my lungs a moment before exhaling. I watched the smoke curl around us and disappear.

  Ali reached out and took the joint from my fingers. My eyes zeroed in on her mouth, noting the way her lips wrapped around it and the cherry reddened. She coughed before she could exhale smoothly. Her eyes watered and she giggled, but I knew what she was feeling. The burning in her lungs, the wheezing in her chest. It sucked, but I still laughed at her.

  We passed it back and forth a few more times in silence.

  “You know, it’s not all peaches and cream having both parents,” she blurted, breaking the silence between us as she passed the joint back to me. “My mom’s always too consumed with her writing to spend time with me. Sometimes, she locks herself in her office for days. And my dad, he’s always on my case about something. I swear he spends all his free time making up rules for his rules. He never pays enough attention to me, though, to actually enforce them,” she frowned.

  I was stunned. From my perspective, she seemed to have everything. An extremely strict dad seemed better than no dad, and a workaholic mom seemed better than a drunk mom.

  Ali had the kind of family life I’d only ever dreamed about.

  But, as I listened to her speak about her family, the one which seemed so picture perfect to me, all I heard was pain reflected in her words. I realized something I should have known from various friends’ lives already, just because someone grows up in a home with both parents doesn’t always mean life is, as she had put it, ‘all peaches and cream.’ Ali probably thought her life was miserable and fucked up. Exactly how I felt about mine.

  I took two more hits and put out the remainder of the joint. I could tell Ali was feeling pretty damn good by looking at her; I was, and I didn’t want her overdoing it.

  We sat across from each other talking, munching out, and enjoying our buzz. Before long, the sun had set and I began to worry about getting her home in time. She stumbled a few times on the walk back towards the car and laughed so hard she thought she’d peed her pants.