No Good Witches | ONC √

Drug Deal Adjacent

Okay, Mallory riding on the back of my bike got really old really quick.

I honestly had no idea how she managed to talk so much about so little. I was to the point of considering her earlier offer, if it meant finding her off switch.

"You know, you don't have to be talking all the time." I said at last when I had reached my limit (she was going into the details of what exactly happened in that sound booth. I draw the line at heterosexual activity). "Some people actually like quiet."

"Now, where's the fun in that, Cassandra?"

My full name had sounded like heaven on Rebecca's tongue. I didn't like it as much when Mallory said it.

"How much farther, Cass?" Rebecca asked from her place in front of me on the road. Rayview wasn't exactly a bustling city, and it was usually perfectly safe to forgo the sidewalk and bike on the street.

"Not far." I said. "We're in Summerton now. He lives at the end of this cul–de–sac."

"Cul–de–sac!" Mallory exclaimed. "Your dealers are a whole lot different than mine."

I frowned back at her. "I didn't take you for the illegal substance type."

She smiled down at me, leaning over to get a better look at my face, moving her hands up to my shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "And I didn't take you for a murderer."

I laughed and looked forward again. "Fair enough."

"Is this it?" Rebecca asked. Her bike was no longer moving, one of her feet planted on the ground. Sometime between now and when we left school, she'd exchanged her loafers for flip flops. It shouldn't have made sense, the combination of her school uniform and her battered flip flops–but oh how it did.

I coughed, gathering my focus, and looked at the house we were stopped in front of. It was the archetypal blue suburban, made complete with the sleek silver Subaru parked in the drive way. There was a flutter in the curtains on the second floor, and I focused in just in time to see a head disappear back into the house.

"This is the place alright."

Mallory dismounted and dusted her self off, frowning down at her uniform. "Ugh. Do you think we could take a quick pit stop to change after this?"

I made a face at her. "Priorities, Mallory."

We dropped our bikes off on the immaculate front lawn and went to the front door. Both Rebecca and Mallory Standing behind me, it was clear that I was going to have to be the one to knock on the door. I scowled and rang the door bell instead.

It wasn't long before the door was wrenched open. And there he stood, Sofiane Clarkson in a half buttoned Hawaiian shirt, well worn kaki shorts, and bright orange crocs. He squinted at us–as much an attempt to discern our intentions as it was to block out the sunlight that he'd clearly not been getting enough of, before stepping back and gesturing us frantically to enter. He slammed the door shut behind us.

"Were you followed?" He asked.

I sighed as I made my way through the house that I'd been to on many occasions. "No, Sof, believe it or not, this isn't a action movie."

I could hear him flicking up the blinds at the window. "Who are they?"

I glanced over my shoulder at Rebecca and Malory, who stared wide eyed around their surroundings. I went to the kitchen in search of chips. "Just some friends from school."

Sofiane scoffed. "Friends from–can they be trusted?"

I snorted. "I wouldn't."

"I'm guessing this is a social visit, then?"