Page 3 of Blue

Cruz dropped his kickstand. I did the same, stripping off my riding gloves and resting them on my fuel tank.

“You made it,” the guy said and fist bumped Cruz. “I should’ve mentioned Hayley’s inside.”

“Is she still pissed?”

The guy laughed at Cruz’s question. “She still won’t talk to Piper.”

Cruz climbed off his bike. “Then Piper owes me. I’ll take a blow in the bathroom.”

“You’re a dick.” He laughed. “Don’t worry. Dax dried Hayley’s tears. What’s up?” he said to me.

“Kane, this is my friend Blue,” Cruz said.

I stepped closer and shook Kane’s hand.

“I hear you’ve got something for me.”

“Papaya Kush.”

“Sweet.”

If I was going to sell to his friends, I was going to have to get him high. We entered the trailer. I kept one hand in my pocket, but adrenaline was firing through me. The house reeked of weed, and the stale stench of filth.

Dishes filled the sink, and the counters were cluttered with open bags of chips and twelve pack boxes of cheap beer. Stains marred the threadbare carpet. Cigarette butts floated in half-full beer bottles, and amangy tabby cat stretched along the back of a worn couch.

Typical of the parties and trap houses we’d been crashing, people gathered in the kitchen. More people mingled in the living room. A blonde girl sat on a guy’s lap and toked on a joint. Not Kiss. If she wasn’t here, at least, I could make a little money.

When we walked into the living room, those on the couch moved off and gave space to us. I pulled a baggie and my pipe from my pocket and handed them to Kane. He loaded the bowl, brought the pipe to his lips, and inhaled long and deep.

As he held his breath, he passed the pipe back to me, but I nodded to Cruz. Once he’d taken a hit, he gave the pipe to me.

Kane blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “Fuck, dude.” He leaned his head back, reached an arm behind him, and sank his fingers into the cat’s fur. “This is my favorite pussy.”

A hallway stretched to the back of the trailer to bedrooms and a bathroom. While Kane and Cruz smoked my weed, I kept my head down, but I was fucking marking every blonde in the room.

A girl came from the hall and paused. “Did you know he would be here?” she asked Kane. This must be the pissed sister.

“You’re looking good, Hayley.” Cruz blew a stream of smoke in her direction.

“Fuck off.” She glared at him. “You’re both assholes. I’m out of here.” She stormed across the room, banged the door open, and flipped them off as she left.

While they smoked the bowl, I sold a couple of baggies. A guy with his hair in a ponytail, wearing a leather jacket, stumbled out of the back room. His eyeswere blown as he slumped into the ratty recliner next to the couch.

“This is Sam,” Kane said to me.

I nodded. “Blue.”

Sam smiled at Cruz. “I haven’t seen you around in a while. What’ve you been up to?”

Cruz knew everyone. The Mr. Rogers of the neighborhood. “Not much.”

Kane took another hit off the pipe. “Where’s your girl?” he asked Sam while holding his breath.

“Having a chocolate bar in the bedroom.”

Hair on the back of my neck prickled. Kiss had confessed to me that chocolate bars, a dangerous combination of heroin and Xanax, were her weakness. My gut clenched as I thought of her in the other room, potentially taking her last breath.

Kane wasn’t aware that I’d stopped smoking to pay attention to the discussions happening around me.

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