"The couch pulls out," she said, referring to the decrepit sofa in the living room. "You can sleep there."
"Glorious," I replied in a flat tone.
She grabbed her purse and for the second time that day, a parent left without so much as a "goodbye."
5
TYSON
The door closed behind her and I finally felt like I could breathe now that she was gone. Well, breathe was a strong word considering the mess I was surrounded by. I looked around the house and sighed. The place needed work. A lot of it.
I walked into the kitchen and examined my surroundings. It was small, and the fact that everything was themed off-white either on purpose or by age made the whole place feel even smaller. I never understood why developers in the 90s thought there was a problem with white paint. It's like they decided to start at dingy rather than just let it happen over time.
I opened the fridge to find it mostly barren. A half empty jug of water, a few Coronas, a couple eggs and a bag of lettuce that looked like it should have been thrown out weeks ago. I shut the door and made my way down the small hallway that was off to the side of the kitchen. The bathroom was themed to match the kitchen, no surprise there.
I tried the door at the end of the hallway and found it locked. If I'd have cared more, I would have gone ahead and picked it, but I didn't. I didn't really care about anything these days.
A knock on the door drew my attention back to the front of the house. I wondered if it was Coco, forgetting something, but that would have been strange considering she should have had a key. I opened the door and narrowed my eyes as I locked gazes with the man standing in front of me.
He was covered head to toe in tattoos, which was fine, no issue there. But, I recognized a few of them and knew right away that they stood for things, and not all of them good. He was painfully thin and pale, and cigarette smoke almost poured off of him. He looked like a more-tweaked out version of Slim Shady. "Can I help you?" I asked.
"Where's Coco?" he asked, ignoring my question.
"Not here," I replied. "That all?"
I moved to close the door, and he put his hand out, stopping me. This guy instantly put me on edge.
"You new around here?"
"What's it to you?" I asked defensively.
He put his hands up and smirked a bit. "I get it, I get it. You don't trust easily. That's definitely the way to be. What if I said I had an offer for you?"
"Better say it quick, because my interest is expiring," I retorted, regretting it a bit, because this seemed like the type of guy I really didn't want to piss off.
"We're always looking for new faces around here to help us move things around. There's a lot of money in it, if you're interested."
I paused at the mention of money. I knew exactly what this guy was asking me. He wanted to know if I wanted to be a mule, a drug runner. Of course the local gang wanted someone who was a new face. I'd attract less attention from the cops, be asked less questions.
I was about to say no, and then I thought back to my Dad's phone call that morning. The business needed cash and fast in order for it to stay alive.
"What sort of money are we talking about?" I asked.
The guy smiled, and I wish he hadn't. He didn't have the best looking teeth. "Seems like you got a number in mind. What? Found yourself in a bit of trouble? Or wanna buy the shorty something nice?"
I gave him a weird look. "There's no girl. Just answer the question."
He dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a card.
"Since when did gangs have business cards?" I muttered under my breath as I took the piece of cardstock.
"I can guarantee you five grand for your first weekend. Call that number when you wanna know more."
He started to turn away from the door, and I tucked the card into my pocket. "Hey!" I called out after him. "What'd you need my Mom for anyways?" I asked, letting the information about our relationship slip past by accident.
He turned around and the smile he gave me told me all I needed to know. My mom was still a stripper, and she was likely a junkie now, too. I let the door slam shut.
I was angry.