Burned Out

Don't shit where you eat. Don't mix business with pleasure. Boy, did I fuck that one up.

But let's back track a bit. Let's go back to maybe two weeks ago when my roommate, Marlene, texted me. She was a student just like me at one of Washington D.C.'s many prestigious schools. Except she was on track for graduating a year early. Me on the other hand? I was two classes away from losing my full ride. So I did what any other nineteen year old college student would do, I started selling weed.

Sorry mom, sorry dad, sorry god.

But back to Marlene. She was a bright eyed, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes from Iowa or Nebraska or one of those states that probably grows too much corn. Well that was until she met me. Sorry Marlene. It's kind of hard to stay sober around me. It's not my fault I never learned how to cope properly without drugs or alcohol. Or maybe it is... but that's beside the point.

"Hey, my lab partner is interested in buying some green. Can I give her ur #?"

"Send her my way. Btw restocked with some girl scout cookie for when u get home later. See ya."

I clicked off my phone and put it aside as I typed away on my laptop, writing a paper that was due three days ago. Or was it four now? Oops. Concentration wasn't my strong suit, at least not of lately. The library was fairly empty considering it was a little after six on a Friday evening. Most students were getting ready to take as many bottles to the face as humanely possible to forget about their failing grade on their Organic Chemistry test or whatever subjects they were taking. I should of been getting ready myself, I was never one to ignore a turn up.

My phone started to buzz, a number I didn't know appearing on the screen. I closed my laptop, stuffing it in my bag, and walked out the library as I clicked "answer". I didn't want to be that guy talking on her cell phone in a library. I wasn't a complete Neanderthal after all.

"Hello?" I asked, leaning against the brick facade of the school building. I pulled a pack of cigarettes out from my pocket, noticing I only had three left.

Note to self: stop at the gas station on the way home.

"Um... Is this Kat?" The voice sounded unsure of herself and it definitely made sense considering the fact that no one had ever called me Kat in the history of ever.

"It's Kitty," I laughed, hunching over to light my cigarette. "How can I be of service?"

"Uh... Marlene uh told me that you could uh help me."

"Text me your address and I'll be there in 30."

----

"Thanks," I yelled out to my uber driver, getting out of the car and taking in my surroundings. I was somewhere near Dupont Circle, the home of every single twenty something year old who just got a government job and thought they were the shit. They also were able to afford two grand a month for a studio apartment unlike the rest of us.

I looked down at my phone which read "1745 R Street NW" as I stood on the corner of R and New Hampshire, squinting my eyes at the nearest house number. 1741, the house in front of me read so I continued a couple houses down until I stopped in front of a tall, white row house in it's typical D.C. fashion.

"I guess this is it," I mumbled to myself, climbing the steps to the front door.

"I'm outside." I pressed send and looked around, unable but to just feel a tinge of paranoia at everyone who walked by on the sidewalk. It came with the territory of being a dealer. The door opened revealing one of the most gorgeous girls I had ever seen in my life.

"Holy shit," I muttered out loud, trying to keep my jaw shut. Her long black hair waved around her shoulders falling just below her collarbones. Her eyes were an intense green that most girls probably would of killed for or at least paid some serious cash for. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose which I couldn't help but find adorable.

"Excuse me?" she asked, a thick accent following. I couldn't quite place it but I sure did find it sexy. I shook my head, trying to focus. I told you concentration wasn't my strong suit.

"Oh nothing," I smiled sweetly. "Uh, Can I come in?"