Weeks went by before Micky resurfaced. He even blew off our tutoring sessions. I was convinced he just didn’t want anything I could hold over his head. When others had said he was a guy that took no chances, they weren’t kidding. I’d never met someone so exact in my entire life. He frustrated me, honestly. If he didn’t sell, I couldn’t sell, which meant my customers started to think I was flakey. I wasn’t flakey.

Me and Micky were one in the same, in a sense. We both handled our business the same way, and maybe that just meant I learned from the best, but even before that I knew I could relate to him. He was doing the same thing I was, selling - not using. I never got to ask him why that was. From appearance, he looked like the type of guy that would do the hard stuff. Come to think of it.. I never really got to talk to him at all besides during tutoring, and even then I’d made it a point to not talk about anything but the subject I was helping him on. I was starting to think that was a mistake.

It took a while, but Bronwyn came around. She was skeptical, but so was I. She needed the money to take care of her sister, she said. In reality, she needed the money to keep up her own habits. It turned out, she wasn’t a meth user at all.

Cocaine. That was her drug of choice. It was like pulling teeth to finally get her to say what she really needed the money for. I wasn’t surprised that she did coke, I just pegged her as a meth head. I would soon figure out there was a lot I pegged wrong on her.

All we had to do was wait for the boss. I was beginning to feel like I should give up on Micky after the start of the third week, until I got the call.

“Hey, B. Are you busy?”

Yeah, I was busy. I was up to my ears in trigonometry homework and had spent all day in rehearsals for the spring musical. I was exhausted beyond belief.

“No, not at all, why, what’s up?”

Micky, see… Micky had this hold on me. I could never figure out what it was, or why he did, but he did. He had his way with words, when we did speak. It was like this kinetic force that drew me to him.

“Meet me behind the barn, now.” His voice was steady, secure, exact. Something was up, but I couldn’t tell if it was a bad something or not.

“Yeah okay, I’ll-” Before I could finish, the dial tone rang in my ear.

He always had a problem with saying goodbye, as long as I’d known Micky, he never said it. He’d give a wave, or a nod, but never said a word and always hung up before anyone could say goodbye to him.

I let out a sigh and closed my trig book, the papers I had lying about flying everywhere. I’d pick them up later - it was business time again, at last.

“I left something at the theatre, mom. I’ll be right back.”

It was so easy to lie to her, it had gotten to the point where I didn’t feel guilty about it anymore. It wasn’t that I was lying to protect myself at this point, I was lying to protect her. She lived in this little box that had everything she ever needed in it. Everything was exactly the way she wanted it to be, and if something changed.. well.. She didn’t handle change at all. It was better to have her keep this perfect image of me than to have her lose her mind like she did when my brother Thomas died, but that is a completely different story.

It was cold, colder than usual. Even though our summers were scorching, when the night rolled around it didn’t matter how hot it was during the day, you’d freeze yourself to death if you didn’t wrap up.

As I approached the barn, I could see a small fire burning. It illuminated the surroundings, the flickering light burning hot against the wood. There Micky stood, his hands in his pocket, leaning against the same work bench where not even a month ago he held a gun in his hands, ready to kill.

Micky was a different kind of boy. There was a lot that I didn’t know about him, but if there was one thing I did know it was that he was lost in this world. He didn’t belong.

He wasn’t exactly that attractive, either. Micky stood at an even 6’0’’, I knew this because we had P.E. together freshman year, he’d been that tall since the seventh grade. His eyes were a piercing blue, his hair a dirty blonde. It shagged over his forehead, and draped over his ears in loose waves and curls. He didn’t maintain it, but it worked for him. Every time I saw Micky, he was wearing a long sleeved shirt and dark denim jeans. He wasn’t a metal head, he didn’t wear all black, but he wasn’t a burn out either. He was just.. Micky. Michael “Micky” Bonwic.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice. Listen, I know I haven’t been around much and for that I’m sorry, but I’ve had to keep a very low profile lately and I’m about to tell you why.”

Micky spoke quickly and quietly, his eyes full of excitement and fear. He moved from the work bench and in his place sat two packages wrapped up in brown paper and tied with string.

“Micky.. Is that..”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” His voice picked up, a bit louder this time. I looked to him, a smile on his face. It must’ve been the first time I’d ever seen him actually smile.

“How.. How much?”

“A kilo worth, even. Made the fuckers weigh it out gram by gram, too.” He reached over me and picked up one of the packages. “Here, feel.”

I could feel some of the molded crystal through the packaging as he placed one in my hands.

“How did you..” I stood, in disbelief.

“Don’t ask. Just know I owe someone a favor. Listen are you in? Or do I have to find someone else? You’re the best I’ve got, B.”

His voice lowered again as he inched closer to me. I could feel his breath on my cheek, it felt good against the cold. I took a moment to mull it over, then looked up to him.

“I’m in.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Sorry for the long wait everyone. Hopefully this makes up for it!