Free Anatomy of a Girl Gang (9781551525303) by Ashley Little Page A
Authors: Ashley Little
we got home, we both had showers, then smoked a little joint. I left Mercy on the couch watching a mind-numbing nature documentary and went to bed. Z threw her arm across my belly and murmured something about chocolate milk. I lay awake for a long time, thinking, listening to the sounds outside, bottle-pickersâ carts clattering in the back alley, junkies yelling, cars backfiring, dogs howling, rain falling, glass smashing, and the city tearing itself apart.
MERCY
That was too fucked up.
Mac and I smoked a fat joint when we got home, but it did nothing to calm me down. I think I was in shock, I donât know. I stayed up for awhile watching TV, then went into my room as the sky started to lighten. I covered myself in blankets and lay in bed, shivering, seeing that manâs cold blue eyes staring up at me. Everywhere I looked, all I could see were his eyes. Sad eyes, milky-blue.
I knew I probably wouldnât get caught, but in a weird way I sort of wanted to be. Iâd killed a civilian. Someone who had nothing to do with the game was dead because of me. I was just as bad as those fuck-wads who did drive-bys and gunned down pregnant women and straight-A students who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. What about Blue Eyesâ family? His friends? They would probably think he drank himself to death. They would never know the truth. No one would. The guilt pressed down on me like a car compactor. Even though it was an accident, I hated myself for what Iâd done.
KAYOS
Finally, finally, finally , Mac said I could come downtown again. I was so relieved. I hopped on the next bus and rode it straight to the house on Cordova. It felt like it had been a hundred years since Iâd been there, for real, but I guess it had really only been two weeks.
Whatâs up, my bitches? I hugged them all super tight. And they hugged me right back.
Mercy had a joint all rolled up for me when I got there, and I told her I loved her.
So, how was your hiatus? Mac asked.
Pretty boring. I actually went to school, yo.
Oh yeah? Learn anything?
Yeah, I guess I did, I laughed. I learned that a lot of kids are doing coke now, and it would be a hot market to target. For real.
Your high school?
Yeah.
I donât think thatâs a good idea, Kayos.
Come on, itâd be so easy! Seriously. That shit practically sells itself.
No.
What? Why not?
Think about it.
Seems like a good idea to me. I shrugged and looked at Sly Girl and Mercy.
Well, itâs not. Itâs a fucking stupid idea.
Why? I felt like sheâd slapped me.
Mac looked at Mercy, then passed me the joint and exhaled a long, thin stream of smoke toward the ceiling. Really?
What? I thought we could get some new customers. Get a little more cash flow going on.
First of all, itâs not a controlled environment. Thereâs too many narcs in a school, not everyone does drugs, not everyone likes people who do drugs or sell them. And thereâs always some dumb-shit kid looking to be a hero by ratting out a dealer. Not to mention parents who like to get way too involved in their kidsâ lives. Second, we can make coke into crack and sell it for ten times as much, so it would be a waste of our time and money to sell just straight coke. And Iâm sure as fuck not selling crack to high school kids. And third, we sell drugs in the Downtown Eastside because this is where the addicts live. There is no better market. They would be here with or without us. I donât feel too good about getting some promising junior varsity type hooked on blow, do you?
I guess not.
Please think it all the way through next time you come up with a good idea. I canât be the only one using my brain around here. She went into the kitchen. We heard dishes clattering in the sink.
I missed you too! I yelled. Damn, who pissed in her cornflakes?
Donât worry about her. Sheâs been under a lot of stress lately, Mercy said.
Yeah? Well, so
MERCY
That was too fucked up.
Mac and I smoked a fat joint when we got home, but it did nothing to calm me down. I think I was in shock, I donât know. I stayed up for awhile watching TV, then went into my room as the sky started to lighten. I covered myself in blankets and lay in bed, shivering, seeing that manâs cold blue eyes staring up at me. Everywhere I looked, all I could see were his eyes. Sad eyes, milky-blue.
I knew I probably wouldnât get caught, but in a weird way I sort of wanted to be. Iâd killed a civilian. Someone who had nothing to do with the game was dead because of me. I was just as bad as those fuck-wads who did drive-bys and gunned down pregnant women and straight-A students who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. What about Blue Eyesâ family? His friends? They would probably think he drank himself to death. They would never know the truth. No one would. The guilt pressed down on me like a car compactor. Even though it was an accident, I hated myself for what Iâd done.
KAYOS
Finally, finally, finally , Mac said I could come downtown again. I was so relieved. I hopped on the next bus and rode it straight to the house on Cordova. It felt like it had been a hundred years since Iâd been there, for real, but I guess it had really only been two weeks.
Whatâs up, my bitches? I hugged them all super tight. And they hugged me right back.
Mercy had a joint all rolled up for me when I got there, and I told her I loved her.
So, how was your hiatus? Mac asked.
Pretty boring. I actually went to school, yo.
Oh yeah? Learn anything?
Yeah, I guess I did, I laughed. I learned that a lot of kids are doing coke now, and it would be a hot market to target. For real.
Your high school?
Yeah.
I donât think thatâs a good idea, Kayos.
Come on, itâd be so easy! Seriously. That shit practically sells itself.
No.
What? Why not?
Think about it.
Seems like a good idea to me. I shrugged and looked at Sly Girl and Mercy.
Well, itâs not. Itâs a fucking stupid idea.
Why? I felt like sheâd slapped me.
Mac looked at Mercy, then passed me the joint and exhaled a long, thin stream of smoke toward the ceiling. Really?
What? I thought we could get some new customers. Get a little more cash flow going on.
First of all, itâs not a controlled environment. Thereâs too many narcs in a school, not everyone does drugs, not everyone likes people who do drugs or sell them. And thereâs always some dumb-shit kid looking to be a hero by ratting out a dealer. Not to mention parents who like to get way too involved in their kidsâ lives. Second, we can make coke into crack and sell it for ten times as much, so it would be a waste of our time and money to sell just straight coke. And Iâm sure as fuck not selling crack to high school kids. And third, we sell drugs in the Downtown Eastside because this is where the addicts live. There is no better market. They would be here with or without us. I donât feel too good about getting some promising junior varsity type hooked on blow, do you?
I guess not.
Please think it all the way through next time you come up with a good idea. I canât be the only one using my brain around here. She went into the kitchen. We heard dishes clattering in the sink.
I missed you too! I yelled. Damn, who pissed in her cornflakes?
Donât worry about her. Sheâs been under a lot of stress lately, Mercy said.
Yeah? Well, so