Pyromaniac.

9. five-o and brown skin.

(Fighter by Saba ft. Kaina)

| 9. | five-o and brown skin

To get out of my house, I'd called up Parker. With the time it took for my high to wear off, I'd ended up going to sleep and the next day, I'd avoided Pricilla like the plague.

I didn't mean to, of course... in fact, I probably didn't have to, she didn't seem like she intended on avoiding me. I was a complete dick and she made sure that I knew it didn't affect her as much as I would think that wound. My ego was pretty bad on a normal day, with anyone else, they would've gone out of their way to ignore me.

But Pricilla, Pricilla didn't give a fuck about me. She didn't care that I'd been high off my ass and made crude and insensitive comments, or at least, it wasn't obvious. She was back to normal in the classes we shared and as to not disturb that, I didn't press any further but it honestly had started to get to me after a few days.

Maybe that's why I didn't call her to hang out again. Maybe the fact that I hadn't really spoken to Ian in a few days was why I didn't call him, and Colin would only press on that because he and Ian were normally a package deal. I hadn't shown up to lunch in a while, Oliver made it clear to all of Inked that I wasn't allowed there during school times and my mother had been anonymously -not really- made aware of my skipping. I had to spend the entire duration of my classes at school but that didn't mean that I had to go to my fillers and actually socialize.

For a week, I spent lunches either inside Sierra or in the library. I didn't answer my phone unless it was my mother or Parker.

So I found myself in his car, tinted windows up as we sat parked downtown. He asked me to break up a few buds he'd handed me wrapped in plastic and I spent my time doing so, looking out as he discreetly did so as well. Parker had taken me on a few runs with him and normally, I would've been less aware but the fact that we were somewhat in broad daylight and rolling a blunt felt a bit too chill for a deal and I was on alert.

I was especially alerted when Richie Rich had walked into the alley looking nervous as all hell. The kid's hoodie was on, the hood up, and his hands were shoved into the front pocket. He had a look on his face that was too skittish for comfort. Parker had parked behind someone's old business, the building wore down and a few cars parked in the back, enough view of the corner without seeming suspicious.

Another one of his tips was to not draw attention to himself. So why was I rolling a blunt for him in the middle of a drug deal?

I'd watched the kid, Parker's eyes on the kid's high-tops, his eyes kept flitting back behind him as if someone were following and I'd sat up in my seat. Sitting my phone carefully on the floor, the bud broken down and laying in an empty cigar, I furrowed my brows, Parker's hand hovering over the gear-shift.

"How much he want?" I'd asked, looking further at the kid, something about him looked familiar.

"An eighth." Parker had answered, voice hesitant. Maybe he had the same feeling I did, I didn't know but he looked a little wary. Eyes darting around, he'd met mine before looking at my phone, crushed cannabis sitting on the face of it. "Said he used to buy from Dev."

I shook my head. I'd bought from Dev for months now and there was no way he'd sell this kid anything, he was already too skeptical himself. "He's too anxious."

And he was, Parker could tell, I could tell. There were a few tells that made it obvious when someone just didn't smoke and this kid either didn't smoke or had never bought his own weed before but something wasn't right.