Page 105 of Things I Wish I Said
I absolutely hate the idea of the latter. I can still remember his hands on Ryleigh. Even now, it pisses me off. Even now, I hate myself a little bit more for giving him my business.
ME:
I need to buy some smoke, you down?
I clutch my phone in my hand, waiting to see if he’ll text back. Maybe he’ll tell me to fuck off, and that will be the end of it.
After a moment, three text bubbles dance on the screen, so I wait.
DUSTIN:
Seriously? You’re texting me?
So muchfor letting it go.
ME:
Come on, man. I’m desperate. I didn’t mean any harm at Kip’s. I was wasted and not thinking clearly.
I choke down the lie, hoping he’ll bite. I wait what feels like forever until the phone pings again, and I check his response.
DUSTIN:
How much do you want?
I sigh, relief sweeping through my veins.
ME:
An ounce.
That should be enough to get me through the month and past Ryleigh’s award while making it worth Dustin’s while.
DUSTIN:
How about something stronger?
I swallow, fighting the urge to agree and ask for something that will fuck me up enough so I can forget the conversation I just had with Ryleigh entirely. Something that will drown out the loss of my father and satiate my desperate fucking need toforget for longer than a few hours. But I don’t. I’m not a fucking junkie. I don’t use drugs. Just a little pot. There’s a difference.
After this, I need to get serious about baseball again, and I can’t do that if I get hooked on something else.
ME:
Nah. Just grass.
I fight the urge to tell him not to fuck with it. I know for a fact he sells laced shit.
DUSTIN:
Okay, but if you want it, and you’re desperate, you’re gonna pay.
I sigh. I’m already buying an ounce, but I suppose if the worst that comes from my kicking his ass at Kip’s is overcharging me, I’m lucky.
ME:
How much?
DUSTIN:
