28 November 2012
Her brilliant smile faltered slightly when she saw me. She approached me, her hands stuffed in her sweatshirt pockets. A draft blew the scent of her vanilla body spray, which failed to mask the stench of cigarettes and weed.
"How much do you want again?" she asked me, her eyes boring into mine.
"Two grams," I replied, glancing away.
She pulled out two little bags of weed and I discreetly pocketed them.
"Thanks," I muttered at my shoes. I started to turn away when she called out to me.
"Hey."
I turned to face her and noticed her demanding hand.
"Right, sorry." I pulled out a twenty and put it in her upturned palm.
"Awesome," she stated flatly, stuffing it into the pockets in her jeans. "Are you going to the party on Friday?" she asked nonchalantly.
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What party?"
"David's. It's going to be fucking crazy," she informed me.
"Oh. Well...I don't know. I may have plans."
"Suit yourself. Call me when you're low."
She stalked away, her loud voice booming as she greeted some friends.
Deal • Opuss № I