Page 20 of Wrench
ink. But the colored addition turned out better than I thought. I liked it.
¡°Shit,¡± I muttered, realizing I had wasted thirty seconds to stare at my arm. Tank was
going to be pissed. He was already so fired up the night before over the Freeway Morons
wearing our colors, now something else must have set him off last night to make him
barge over this early in the morning. On top of that, I had to tell him that I, his Vice
President, would be no help that day because I had to take my dog to the vet. I could
already see him ramming his finger into my chest, saying I wasn¡¯t taking the position
seriously enough.
When the bell rang again, I knew I couldn¡¯t waste any more time and unlatched the
attic door. The staircase tumbled downward, stopping not even an inch away from Tank¡¯s
feet. After years of the same old routine, he must have mastered standing in the perfect
spot every time.
The light from the sunrise beaming through the windows on the main floor was much
brighter than in the attic, making me wince and cover my eyes with my forearm as I
walked down the staircase. Tank was smoking even with his arms crossed, a red flag that
something had him even more pissed off than usual.
¡°I¡¯m going to ask you a question and you¡¯re going to answer honestly,¡± he said once I
reached the bottom of the stairs. ¡°Are you dealing again?¡±
I stopped in my tracks, my face dropping to a frown before quickly turning to a strange
mixture of anger, disgust, and shame. That was what had him so mad?
¡°What the fuck, Tank? You¡¯ve gotta be kidding me.¡±
¡°Answer the question.¡±
¡°You wake me up at seven in the morning and accuse me of dealing drugs? Fuck off.¡±
¡°I said, answer the question, Wrench,¡±
¡°No! Jesus Christ, Tank, fuck.¡± I fell into one of the empty wooden chairs sitting near
the prep counter and ran my hand over my buzzed head, my veins pumping with
adrenaline that I hadn¡¯t felt in a while. I heard Tank¡¯s footsteps move across the room to
drop his cigarette butt into an empty beer bottle, but I was focusing on the floor, taking
deep breaths, trying not to let my anger get the best of me.
¡°This place is filthy,¡± he said, ¡°Tell the cooks I told them to get their shit together.¡± I
