|OH HOLD| Unmarked Words

Elliot, a secret problem fixer - 12

AVEN

"Mitchell!" I call out.

Michele turns to face me and hops off the wall he was leaning against.

"I haven't seen you back here before," he states.

"Because I don't hang out at the back of the school like you do but I need something from you."

"What is it?"

I pull the wad of cash from my back pocket and hold it out in front of me so he can see it.

"I need some of the green leaves. As much as this amount can get me."

"Are you sure? That seems like a lot." he pulls the cash from my hand and examines it. I don't know how much is there. It's not my cash; I stole it from Alex's room where he thought it was nicely hidden.

"I'm not new to this. So yeah, I'm sure." as I think about it, using all of it might not be the best idea. I might be desperate but I'm not dumb.

I take the money, slip it in half then give it back. "I'll save some. Just give me whatever's worth that." I point to what is in his hand as I shove the last of the money back into my pocket.

I could very well go back to jail for this, but I was told that Michele was the best dealer at this school.

"And you're sure?" he asked again. I'm starting to get annoyed with the stalling. We don't know each other but I know he's thinking that I can't handle it maybe because I'm a girl.

"I told you I as. Give me my stuff." I say coldly, trying to keep my voice down.

"Damn, sorry. Coming right up." he digs through his bag for a while before he stands up to face me again.

"Thank you, come again," he says like a classic store clerk.

I will. and he knows it.

I pull my knees to my chest and stare at the bottom drawer where the drugs lay.

Elliot left not too long ago and the entire time he was here, I was thinking about the drugs.

It hurts me. The way I've been getting into this routine that consists of drugs, drugs, and more drugs. Whether I have them or I'm just thinking about them.

I think back to last year when I was smoking weed two times a day. I think about the stress relief it gave me but I'm also reminded of how it ruined not only my life, but Alex's life also.

Still, I get up and make my way to my dresser. I open the bottom drawer, shift through the shit load of paired socks, then pause.

I debate whether this is a good idea. My mind is telling me to just fucking do it and subsequently, my heart tells me the same so I pick up the ziplock baggie and sit on my bed.

I quickly crack the window above my bed before I light one of the joints, instantly feeling the relief when the smoke hits my lungs.

Alex won't be home for another hour so I have plenty of time to smoke the weed, then remove any evidence of it being here in the first place.