― e i g h t e e n. The Perfect Gift

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|| CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ||

Getting Bolt and Flash a present should be a top priority in the order of getting my friends gifts but it can wait. There is a more important gift that I needed to get my hands on.

I approached Dilton Doiley after class one day. I have never talked to Dilton before, all I know was that he is a crazy gun freak who sold my brother a gun. I went up to him while he was at his locker and there was no one around us who could hear our conversation.

     "Hello Dilton," I said, casually leaning up against the locker adjacent to his.

     He turned his head and looked at me warily, "What?"

     "I'm the sister of the guy you sold a gun to," I continued. That was when he looked at his surroundings for people nearby. I leaned in and whispered, "I'm just wondering if you have other things in stall other than guns?"

     "Uhm, I don't know what you're talking about," he hurriedly shoved his books into his bag and shut the locker door.

I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to stop him from leaving. "Don't play dumb, Doiley," I raised my voice then lowered my tone, "I need something as well."

     He sighed and looked around cautiously before leaning in and speaking in a hushed tone, "Meet me at my place after school."

     I frowned, "You say that like I know where you live."

     He gave me his address and hurried off.

After school, I went over to the address he gave me. He lead me up to his bedroom which was normal I guess. Normal teen posters, normal teen decor and oh, yes, a giant hunting gear mounted on the wall.

     "Well, what do you want?" Dilton asked.

     "I'm looking for switchblades," I replied.

     He turned away and went over to his closet. He opened it and it was filled with clothes, nothing suspicious, until he propped up a piece of his floor which revealed a secret compartment. He pulled out a chest and opened it, revealing a variety of blades ranging from hunting knifes to switchblades.

     "Well that's fucked up," I mumbled.

     "What?"

     "Nothing."

     I reached into the chest and randomly took out a switchblade. I grabbed the handle and pressed on the button and a blade sprung out. Neat.

I continued looking through the box. To be fair, I do not know what I'm looking for. Who knew there were so many different types of blades? Am I supposed to know the quality from the blade? The weight? The grip? I mean as long as it can shank then it works.

"How much is this?" I asked him.

     "Sixty-nine dollars," he answered.

     "Geez, Dilton. It's Christmas, don't I get like fifty percent off?"

     "Fine," he grunted unwillingly. "Thirty-five."

     "Are there cheaper ones?"

     "The cheapest one I got is twenty-three dollars," he said. "Look, these aren't for sale, they're a collection so you'll have to pay a pretty penny to get it."

     I sighed, unsatisfied. I put the blade back into the chest. I continued to look at the contents of the chest before my eyes finally fell on a particular blade. It was concealed in its matte black handle. I have only seen it in movies but never in real life. I fished it out and began swinging it wildly.

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