Coffee & Criminals

19. Balloons

"But I'm sleeping, Mom."

"No, Florence, you're not. Get up, get dressed, and get out." Mom said. She was busier than a bee, picking clothes off my bedroom floor and straightening the apartment up. I don't know what for. It's not like we were gonna have guests over. Or maybe we were and I just wasn't told. From all this excessive cleaning, it made me think the President was going to stop by. 

"No, really. I'm sleeping." To prove my point, I pulled the blankets (it was my favorite blanket because it had cute patch work with pastel butterflies all over it...or maybe it was my favorite because it was the only one I had) up to my chin, closed my eyes, and began to exaggerate my loud snores. I didn't snore when I slept but I knew that Clancy did, on account of a sleepover last month where I was kept awake for most of the night due to her horn-honking, glass-shattering, ear-piercing snores.

"Florence." Mom gave me an annoyed look. A moment later, one of my sweaters flopped into my face. "Get up, seriously. You can't lay in bed all day. Did you finish your project for English? There aren't many more vacation days left. You only have one week left before school starts again."

I groaned and rolled over. 

"Okay, enough moaning and groaning!" She declared angrily. "Really, Flo. I don't have the time to deal with this, okay? We have a business to run and I need you to work the front counter again. And there's no point in avoiding your responsibilities, they're just going to catch up with you sooner or later. Might as well get them over sooner, right? Now move your little butt to the bathroom. I need to vacuum before I leave for work. Look at this mess!" Mom leaned down and picked up a funny-looking plastic seashell that had accidentally caught on fire once. "What is this? A dead bird? Is this a dead bird? Why do you have a dead bird in your bedroom?"

Sleeping sounded like a real good way to avoid my responsibilities. It was a good way to avoid life in general. I was feeling the aftereffects of abandonment. I was angry at the world for taking Ade away, even though it wasn't the world's fault. No, the blame was solely on a man whose first name began with a W and ended with an E. What a stupid name, anyways. Wolfe. Who names their kid Wolfe? Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?

Um, everyone.

Nobody messes with wolves. Especially not the kind that had 'were' in front of them. Nobody messes with Wolfe, either. Again, why was I thinking of him? Why did my brain, at every moment of recursion, always revert back to him? It was making me sick.

Hey, that gave me an idea.

"I'm sick!" I moaned loudly. Flopping around the bed helped play the part. Mom dropped a handful of shirts into the laundry basket and turned to stare at me skeptically. I hadn't told her what happened with Ade. I just wanted to pretend it never happened, honestly. Losing friends, perhaps the only friend I'll ever have, was making me miserable. I didn't feel like doing anything, least of all going into the Espresso House and making lattes and pretending as if there wasn't a drug trading lair beneath my feet. 

Both Mom and Dad, as well as Clancy, knew about the methamphetamine shipment. And what did they do about it, you ask? 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They were trying to act like it didn't even happen, as if the news wasn't plastered all over New York City. The Crowns initiated the largest drug smuggle in the history of crimes and it was happening right across the street. Everywhere I looked, there was some mention of Wolfe Sterling or the Crowns. Everyone was in so much awe of his power, his history, his dominance. It was ridiculous. Painting a criminal with so much attention, as if being bad was an achievement.

Mom walked over and pressed her palm over my forehead. I knew it wouldn't work but I pouted and trying to bring sympathy so she'd let me stay home. I really didn't feel like facing the world.