The Quarters

Mr. Edgar Jones

This continued for a little over two months, and would generally run smoothly. I even started to form relationships with some of the guys I was delivering to. Many of them were attractive, older guys on the football or soccer teams, so that was a bonus I enjoyed.

 I only opened the backpack once, and it was organized much differently than I expected. Little bags labeled with who the drug was for, and how much. It was an assortment of mostly cocaine, a lot of weed, something I was pretty sure was molly as well as some pill bottles.

This particular Thursday turned out extraordinarily different than the previous ones. I got caught. I'll tell you how it happened.

 I was walking between the library and Smith, head down and headphones in. Over the music, I could hear someone shrilly yelling my last name, Clark, behind me. Annoyed, I pulled out one earbud and spun around. Annoyance rushed over me when I saw who it was. Edgar Jones, part of campus security stood behind me. I hated him, and he hated me.

Edgar was a small, lanky man with a mustache. He had no family, and his sole pleasure was causing high school kids to get in trouble. His specialty was tracking couples down to report them "inappropriate sexual activities" as he liked to refer to them. I was constantly escaping him with my boyfriend Mike, which he was well aware of, and had a vendetta against me for.

Anyway, I ignored him and continued briskly walking away. However, he awkwardly jogged to catch up with me. I continued to ignore him even when he was alongside me, almost running to keep up with me. "Bag sure does look heavy, Clark," he said just to spark my irritation. "Yes it sure is" I replied sarcastically, silently praying that he would just back off and leave me alone. 

"What's so heavy?" he questioned. No such luck. I pretended I didn't hear him and picked up my pace even more. "You know, carrying heavy bags can lead to premature arthritis in your back," he added, "be careful Clark," he said attempting to further provoke me. "Thanks for your concern Edgar, but I have somewhere to be," I said, hoping he would get the message. 

Now it was his turn to ignore me, "what's so heavy anyway?" I gave him a short reply about my textbooks weighing me down, but he didn't seem satisfied. "Which textbooks?" was the next question in his interrogation, "Bio textbooks" was all I said. 

I started to panic. I was well aware of what game he was playing.

 He was messing with my head because he wanted to get me in trouble. This time he really could. 

Something you should I know about me is that I am an excellent liar and have a knack for lying and manipulating my way out of pretty much any situation. 

However, that skill was not up to par in this critical moment. The next few minutes were all a blur. He asked to see my books under the pretense of "he wanted to study biology in his free time." "Open the bag, Clark," he spat, to which I made numerous frantic excuses as to why I couldn't. He ripped it from my back and yanked the zipper open. I watched his face light up when he saw what was inside. He radioed to the other guard, Dwight, and turned me in. I was told I would have a meeting with the headmaster first thing in the morning, to figure out my punishment.