Since Zack was so busy fussing over Erin all afternoon following the incident at the mall that gave me the rest of the day – and the night – to myself. In the past, whenever Erin had been sick, it was just another excuse to have her as the center of attention. I however had been blessed – or cursed, depending on how you look at it – with a strong immune system, which meant our parents had one more reason to not give a fuck about me.

But once again, on the bright side, I now had the rest of the day to myself, which meant going out and getting high. I was running low already, surprisingly enough, and not just on marijuana either. Since the summer, I had been “experimenting” with other drugs, and I’ve been itching for a fix since I got caught.

It wasn’t difficult getting past Zack when he was so preoccupied by his little princess. What was difficult was finding my way around the Huntington Beach area, since I wasn’t there often enough.

I must have walked around for at least two hours before I found an area that seemed more of “my style” – basically, a dark alleyway, whose presence was made known from three blocks away from the familiar stench of marijuana smoke billowing from it. Three men sat around the dumpster, the only piece of furniture in what seemed to be the back area of a restaurant, passing around a pipe. Two of the men looked like they were middle-aged; graying hairs and unshaved faces. The other, from what I could tell, was my age; he wore all black and had that flippy-hairstyle that “scene” girls were known to swoon over – well, really any girl, for that matter when you really think about it.

He was the first one to notice my watchful eyes. He gives me a lazy sort of half-smile that beckons me over. I find myself sitting beside him and across from the two older men, both seem to have the look of a stereotypical homeless person, I find upon seeing them up close. He silently gestures to the one who was currently taking a hit from the pipe to hand it over to him so I can have a go.

“You ever smoked before?” he asks me as I take it as casually as I possibly can from him, without making me look desperate. I nod.

As soon as the familiar feeling of the smoke filling my lungs washes over me, I instantly relax against the wall behind me.

“I’ve never seen you around before,” the boy says a couple minutes later, after I’ve passed the pipe back over to the man who he had taken it from. I’m surprised to find that he sounds almost completely sober, almost like he hasn’t taken a single hit.

“I’m staying with my dad,” I reply simply, making myself as comfortable as I can on the hard, concrete ground. He nods, accepting my answer easily.

“Your parents divorced, or something?”

“They were never together,” I explain.

“So you were just an accident, then?”

“Yup,” I say, popping the ‘p’ at the end. The answer rolls off my tongue so casually; anyone who didn’t understand would think I was so unbelievably broken. In the past, I’d have people coo over me, expressing that I wasn’t just a ‘mistake’, just so they can make themselves look like a concerned citizen.

But I’m a firm believer in not sympathizing over the truth.

“Man, we shouldn’t be smoking this,” one of the older men speaks up, drawing out each word lazily. The other shrugs.

“Martin doesn’t need to know shit,” he spits, and his friend chuckles in reply.

“We need to get back to Martin,” the boy beside me says. He then pulls out a baggie from his back pocket and holds it up to the light, assessing it carefully. “There’s enough in here for Lucas to be satisfied.”

“What do we do about the girl?” As they’re getting to their feet, all turn to look at me.

“We can’t just leave her here,” the boy insists. “She’s as high as a kite.” Which is a lie, and I can tell we both know this; but I can also tell that there’s something he wants me to be a part of, and I can’t deny that this thought excited me.

The men turn towards me, then look at each other and shrug. “Fine,” one says. “But if she says a word, we turn her over to Martin.” They look at me for confirmation. I nod firmly.

I was ready for whatever it is I was about to be a part of.

~

“I never caught your name,” the boy says as we walk down what is quite possibly one of the shadiest streets in all of Huntington Beach. “You’ve gotta introduce yourself to Martin as something.”

“It’s Danny,” I tell him without hesitating. “What’s yours?” I see him hesitate blatantly, as if he’s hiding something. He shifts slightly before glancing over at me, then back to the two older men in front of us, who were leading us to wherever it is we were going.

He leans closer to me, so he can whisper in my ear. “It’s Will.” When he pulls away, I give him a skeptical look. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Then why do you look so guilty?” I question him, crossing my arms across my chest. He jabs his thumb towards the two older men.

“They don’t like me telling my name to random strangers,” he explains. “They think that my name will get ‘blacklisted’ or whatever, and that the more people who know it, the more risk I’m at.”

“Are they, like, your family?” He shrugs.

“Yeah, sort of. They’re the only family I’ve known, at least they’re a huge part of it.”

“What do you mean?” He glances over nervously at them again, before leaning in.

“My father is sort of some huge drug dealer here in Orange County,” he tells me quietly as possible. “All his little henchmen are responsible for my safety. Of course, I say ‘henchmen’ as a compliment,” he adds, pulling away and smirking.

“So I’m assuming you want me to deal drugs with you?” I ask. He shrugs again.

“Sort of,” he tells me. “We could use younger dealers, since a lot of kids nowadays are looking to get high on a regular basis.”

“Hey, would you too watch where you’re going?” one of the men snap, as we almost run right into them, having not noticed them stopping right in front of us.

I look up to see a normal-looking California-style house. Studying it as quickly as possible, I find that it blends in quite nicely; you would never be able to guess that some ‘huge drug dealer’ lived here.

“Would you stop gawking?” the same man who had just snapped at us moments earlier snaps, now directly addressing me. I follow the three of them inside.

The interior of the house is, for lack of better terms, simple. It seems to serve as more of a façade than anything; I can already tell, from simply knowing that a drug dealer lived here, which bits of décor were real, and which were just put there for show. For instance, the wall to my right is completely covered in family photos, and even though a few seem to be of Will, most of them seem to be of just some random family, which were so strategically placed, that you wouldn’t notice right away.

“You two wait in the living room,” the same man, who seems to have a short temper when he’s high, snaps at Will and I. “We need to go have a word with Martin.”

Sighing, Will leads me instead into the kitchen. He immediately begins pulling various snack items out of the pantry before laying them on the kitchen counter, and looking at me expectantly; waiting for me to make a choice. I chose a bag of Doritos, before he leads me into the living room.

I take a seat on the brown leather couch, finding myself more comfortable in such a gray, simple room, compared to Zack’s elaborate décor back at his house (or mansion; whatever you wanted to call it). Will takes a seat across from me, on an identical couch. I feel him watch me as I open the “party size” bag and shove two chips hungrily into my mouth, my last meal having been at breakfast that morning.

“Did you really smoke that much?” he laughs, after I’ve nearly choked to death on a crumb. I shake my head.

“I’ve barely eaten today,” I reply. “I’m hungry.” He shakes his head.

“I can see that.”

“So,” I begin, setting down the half-empty bag. “Is it just you four, then?” He shakes his head, chuckling softly.

“Oh, no, trust me; there are a lot more. Ricky and Zak actually live closer to the beach – they’re brothers, in case you didn’t know,” he tells me. “We all work for Martin – my dad. He’s been in the ‘business’ since he was our age. His father started selling drugs when he fell in debt for his wife’s medical bills – she had cancer.” He shakes his head slightly. “It’s a dangerous business. Everyone carries a gun – except for me, of course. Lately, another drug cartel from LA has been crossing the borders a little too much; just last week, we had to take out three of their guys. It’s insane.” He lets out a small breath and closes his eyes for a moment. “Martin’s been talking about having Joseph – his brother – take me to Vegas or something for a while, until things die down. He doesn’t want me getting hurt – or killed.”

“What about the police?” I ask, genuinely interested.

“The police are the least of our worries,” he replies. “They can’t touch us; not with the measures we take to prevent them from finding out about us. What you need to understand,” he leans forward, looking me right in the eyes, “is that we – my family – has been doing this for over fifty years. We know what we’re doing. And we don’t always let random people we find on the streets in. But you… I trust you.”

“How? You’ve only known me for an hour,” I laugh nervously.

“I just… I have a feeling you know how to keep a secret.”

Before I can reply to this, Ricky and Zak appear in the living room, followed by a slightly shorter, yet seemingly more intimidating, man. As Will gets to his feet, showing his respect, the man, whom I can assume is none other than the infamous drug lord I’ve been told about all evening, stares me down.

“This is the girl you found on the streets?”

“I told you it was,” Zak mumbles. Martin ignores him, looking at Will expectantly.

“Yes, sir,” he replies confidently. Martin nods.

“I’m assuming you told her everything, then?” Will doesn’t say anything; Martin seems to take this as a yes. “Then I guess we have no other choice.”

“Do we kill her?” Zak asks enthusiastically. I freeze and Will opens his mouth to protest.

“We’re not going to kill her,” Martin half-yells, and both Zak’s and Ricky’s faces fall. “I’m going to give you two options, kid.” I look at him expectantly, and he steps forward. “Now, I don’t usually do this,” he begins, folding his arms across his chest. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us and for the first time in a long time, I find myself uncomfortable in the presence of an adult. “Either you can be like Will, and sell drugs to other high school students, which is pretty high pay, after you give part of it to me, or you can go on your way, and never speak a word of this to anyone.”

“What?” Zak exclaims, clearly as shocked as I am.

“But,” he continues, “if you do happen to let it slip, then I will not hesitate to exterminate you. Understood?”

“Either way,” Ricky smirks, “we get to kill you.”

“If she tells someone,” Will reminds him and he rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, kid.”

“What’ll it be, kid?” Martin asks me, ignoring the bickering going on in the background.

I straighten up, regaining some of my confidence. If I thought before that I didn’t have a place in Orange County that I wouldn’t ever belong, then I was wrong.

“I’m in.”

Notes

A/N: Edited: Jan. 9, 2015

So now things are starting to get a little interesting...

I've already written up ten? ten parts I think so far, but I still need to go back and redo one part since it just seemed to... well, dumb really. Also, I've been considering posting a new story I've started working on, even though I've only written one part of it so far... oh, well... (I may or may not post that tonight but that's probably not relevant)

Happy New Year's, guys!

~WOLFY~