14.

  Eddy came home from school with a backpack full of soon to be ignored homework, and just under a half-a-pound of slightly less than the finest marijuana that Colorado had to offer, courtesy of Johnny Vincent’s master plan. He walked inside, “Hey Dad, I’m home,” he said.

  “Oh, Ed, what’s up,” His father was startled awake. He was sitting on his roughly upholstered couch. The house may have looked okay from the outside, at least okay considering what neighborhood they were adjacent too. Eddy’s house was the only house in the neighborhood that had the good fortune of being seated right above the property line to Denero county, meaning that while he could attend Reagan high and enjoy the all the benefits a school with test scores as high as Reagan’s, when he came home things weren’t as nice. While it was a well-built house, good siding, brick foundation, his father didn’t promote proper upkeep within its walls. It wasn’t his fault, Eddy’s mom left more than a few years ago, and Eddy’s dad didn’t have time to learn how to give their home a womanly touch. He was a foreman at a steel mill. It paid enough for him to own a house just outside Los Angeles, but not quite enough to hire a maid.

  Eddy looked over and saw the two already empty bottles of Jack Daniels on the floor by the couch, and the half-empty third bottle sitting on the coffee table next to a most likely warm bottle of Coca-Cola he would mix it with when he didn’t just drink it straight.

  Eddy walked over to the fridge and opened it, “We got anything for dinner?” Eddy asked.

  “There are hot pockets in the freezer, Steak Quesadilla flavor, they’re excellent,” Eddy’s dad said.

  “Yeah, stake does sound good, I might make some later,” Eddy said as he closed the fridge and made his way back to his room.

  Eddy thought Johnny’s whole little plan was crazy. It didn’t stop him from agreeing to it, but it was crazy. All the dealers working together? It sounded nuts, but since they started their little Cartel Eddy was making a much more considerable amount of cash then he used to have. At first, he just thought selling pot was a cool thing to do for some extra spending money. Then he shot his transmission. With the extra money he got from being part of Johnny Vincent’s little organization he was able to fix it with cash as opposed to calling his dad and getting him to sign up for the franchise mechanic shop’s payment plan, which of course came with a very fair, and very reasonable interest rate. Eddy needed that car, that dented up Grey Trans-Am was the key to his primary income source.

  Once he was in his room, Eddy unloaded his backpack. School books, notebooks, and a bag of Bic pens Johnny gave him. Eddy had thought of doing the whole “Hide weed in pens” thing that Johnny had shown everyone. He didn’t need to though. Unlike the other dealers of Reagan high, Eddy didn’t usually operate within school property. The “Niche” as Johnny would call it, that he carved out was as the delivery man. His phone was always on, at least that’s what he advertised. He had only been called out later then two A.M. twice in his two-year career as a Pot Courier. He knew it was a good image to have out in the market that if you did find yourself in a situation where you needed product that late, Eddy was your guy.

  The philosophy was simple, going out to something like a Chipotle or an In-and-out was nice, a great way to treat yourself. But something like pizza is just so much more damn convenient, even if a bit more expensive. How could anyone who lives in a nicer house then his ever want to leave anyway? It was natural that Eddy adopted this model for his business. Before he started selling on the professional level he did now. Eddy worked as a driver for Uncle Romero’s pizza in his junior year. He learned the layout of Denero county like the back of his hand before he was fired. To say he was fired would be out of line. Eddy was more, laid off from his position. Uncle Romero’s, one of the largest pizza franchises in the country, ran into some problems. Their CEO, Uncle David Romero himself was caught on audio that was of course eventually leaked to MeTube. Audio of him going on a seven-minute, racist, bigoted, tirade full of expletives up to and including the N-word several times. Their stock price tanked, and the CEO was ousted. This caused waves in the company, waves that Eddy had no control over as he never enrolled in the employee stock purchase program they offered. So, Eddy lost his job in a swarm of cutbacks that rolled over the entirety of the company.

  Now though, Eddy was delivering a much more in demand product. The most popular commodity in that oh so coveted 14-18 market whose demands and desires that prominent, influential businessmen on wall street somehow can’t figure it out even when it’s staring them right in the face. Those guys in New York with their five-thousand-dollar suits and high-end iPhones didn’t have shit on Johnny Vincent. He thought as he poured some of his new product on his desk next to his digital scale. Johnny had made Eddy a lot of money, which meant that Johnny probably knew his shit. Eddy started to measure out eights of weed. That was his usual sale. People knew that it wasn’t worth driving to someone if they were buying less than that. Of course, he would make expectations; sometimes, he would be okay delivering a dime every once and a while to a good customer, or a hot girl. But he mostly sold eights. With the price increase that Johnny orchestrated plus the extra tax he charged for the convenience of delivery, his net profit off product had nearly doubled, and with the amount he was selling, every sale was bringing in much more than it used to. He didn’t feel guilty about the price hike. Everyone knew Johnny had the best shit in the school, and now that he was working with Johnny, he had the best shit too. Word got around. Uncle Romero’s was now not only convenient but also just as good as Chipotle or In-and-Out.

  He stuck his head out his door and called out, not too loud though, “Hey dad, you there?” he asked.

  Silence, Eddy’s dad had passed out.

  “Okay,” Eddy said. He went into his room and closed the door. He went to his closet and reached up on the shelf inside it for his pipe, a medium-sized green glass instrument with a 4-inch neck and a large bowl with a medium sized hole and a thumb-sized carb. He grabbed some weed from the sac Johnny gave him and rubbed it between his fingers, filling the bowl up with product. He sat on his swivel chair and grabbed a lighter from his desk. He brought the lighter to his sparked up. He held his thumb on the carb as he took a long slow inhale of the smoke. After his deep breath, he held it in for a few seconds, the slowly blew the smoke out of his lungs. At the tail end of his exhale, he let out a slight cough. “Oh shit,” he coughed, “Coughing already, that’s some good shit,” he said. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He looked at the saran wrapped sack of weed on his desk. It was the most pot he had ever seen at one point in his life, by a wide margin. “I need more of that shit,” Eddy said as he brought the pipe back to his lips and took another long, solid hit. He exhaled, sending another cloud of sticky, stinky smoke into the air, “God damn,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. It was already starting to hit him.

  He put some out on the scale and took a small butter knife he grabbed from the kitchen to cut into the buds and start to divide them. Johnny taught him the importance of product consistency, and of margin. He measured each batch of product perfectly, his digital scale went to three decimal points, so it took him an hour to get eight bags ready. He wrapped them all and used a lighter to melt the knot on the plastic sandwich bags to seal them, for freshness of course.

  He went to his closet and found a sweater, he took the sack of weed and wrapped it in the sweater and took it to his burrow, hiding it behind the furniture with great care. He knew it didn’t matter. His dad wasn’t his mom. He never came into his room. He had to keep it safe though, just in case, he had never owned this much weed at one time. He took the bags and shoved them in his desk drawer. Once his work for the night was done, Eddy flopped on his twin sized bed and flipped his T.V. on. There was nothing on T.V. of course as his house only got basic cable. So, he went to the A.V. channel attached to his PlayStation to pull up Netflix. The PlayStation he was able to afford, and the Netflix account he was able to afford thanks to his participation in Johnny Vincent’s little scheme. He picked up in the middle of an episode of The Office he was watching.

  Eddy laughed before taking another hit, “Michael, you stupid son of a bitch,” he said after exhaling another cloud of smoke. He put his pipe down and leaned back. Just as he was getting into it and starting to mellow out his phone went off. He picked up his new iPhone, another perk he was able to afford thanks to his upgraded business arrangement, it was Teddy. It sure was convenient to see who was calling you before you picked up. Teddy calling on a Thursday meant he needed his usual.

  “What’s up man,” Eddy said, answering him.

  “What’s going on man, I know it’s not much, but can I get a dime, it’s an emergency?” Teddy said.

  “Hell, yeah man, no problem, I know you’re cool, you got company or something?”

  Teddy laughed, “Maybe I do,” he said, smiling as he looked over at Mrs. Dharmedy lounging across the couch, her legs in his lap and his hand on her thigh. Mrs. Dharmedy looked over at Teddy and gave him a wink.

  “Yeah, my parents aren’t home so you can just ring the doorbell,” he said.

  “Thought you said your parents weren’t home? Who you got over?” Eddy asked.

  “Just a friend,” Teddy laughed, then gave a little moan as Mrs. Dharmedy grinding her hips against his lap.

  “Awesome, maybe I can say hi to your company when I get there?” Eddy said.

  “Man, fuck you,” Teddy said, laughing.

  “All right man, I’m on my way,” Eddy said, pausing his tv before grabbing a dime bag and stuffing it in his pocket. He went to the bathroom and quickly splashed some cold water in his face to help him come down. He brushed his teeth with his extra strong mint toothpaste and applied some droplets of clear eyes just for good measure. He walked out into the kitchen and grabbed his keys, then looked over at his father. “I’ll be right back dad, just got to run to the store,” he said, looking over and seeing that his father was passed out in front of the television, “I think I might buy some crack while I’m out,” Eddy said as he made his way to the door, the only reaction he got out of his dad was a small sleep burp and his body shifting on the couch.

  Eddy got into his car and reached into his pocket for the dime bag. He reached down into the floor of his passenger seat, in the ruffage of empty fast food bags and drink cups, he grabbed a medium drink cup with a lid still on it and opened it. He dropped the weed into the cup then shoved it back under the garbage. Eddy had never been busted with pot before, he had never even had his car searched, but he had undoubtedly been pulled over more than once. This was just an extra precaution he took when he would make deliveries at suspicious hours of the night for a teenager to be driving alone.

  Right on Segue street, two miles down then left on Brono way, turn left off that into the Denero Plantation suburbs, and he was there within ten minutes. He weaved his way through the development and found Teddy’s house. Of course, his dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but instead, for some reason, there was very familiar looking red Corvette in its place. Eddy paid no attention to it as he parked on the road by Teddy’s. He reached into the garbage and found the cup, shaking it to make sure it was the right one, he pulled out the dime bag and slipped it into his pocket before making his way up Teddy’s driveway and onto his porch. He rang the doorbell and leaned against the column on the porch’s deck.

  It took more than a minute for Teddy to answer the door, just barely cracking it open, “What’s up man,” Eddy said, pulling the back from his pocket to give to Teddy.

  Teddy reached out for it and shook Eddy’s hand as the pass was made. “Fuck yeah man, you’re the best,” Teddy said, handing Eddy two twenty-dollar bills, the price for a dime, plus Johnny’s price increase, plus Eddy’s delivery fee.

  “No problem man,” Eddy said, “By the way, whose car is that? It looks familiar.” Eddy asked.

  “Umm,” Teddy’s eyes darted back and forth, “She umm, goes to another school,” Teddy said quickly.

  “Oh shit, and that’s her car, wow,” Eddy said.

  “She goes to school in Beverly Hills,” Teddy said, hoping that was a good enough cover story.

  “Nice man,” Eddy said, smiling at his friend.

  “Yeah it is, I got to get back, thanks again man,” Teddy said.

  “Anytime,” Eddy said, not even able to finish the word before Teddy shut the door on him.

  “Good for him,” Eddy thought as he headed back to his car.

  Man, busy night, Eddy thought. It was getting near midnight, and he had one pre-made bag left. Just as he got ready to settle in again, sure enough, his phone went off again. It was Tiffany, “Fuck,” Eddy said. He was tired, exhausted, but Tiffany was a good customer and hot. She didn’t live too far away, and Eddy knew he could do one more for the night, but this was going to be it. Eddy answered her, heard her sweet voice asking “Pretty, pretty, please,” for an eighth and Eddy knew he just had to help her out.

  He grabbed his eight, and for the last time tonight he sneaked out of his house and into his car, putting the baggie in the empty drink cup and hiding it in the garbage on his passenger seat. He had his window down and his elbow was hanging out of his car, letting the cool night air blow by him as he got off the main road. It was late, it was dark, he looked up and thought he saw something in his rear-view mirror, but he couldn’t make it out. Then something happened that made him immediately know what it was. His eye’s widened as he saw the flashes of blue lights erupt from behind him filling his car.

  “Oh fuck,” Eddy said, pulling over and turning his car off. He took a deep breath, calmed himself. This wasn’t his first rodeo. All he had to do was stay calm, but not too calm and confident, but not too confident. Yes sir, no sir, and occasionally throw in more casual conversation so that he didn’t appear too well prepared. Above all, though, the number one rule for being pulled over, was that you do whatever the cop asks you to do, without question.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  This was the worst part of being pulled over, that eternity between pulling to the side of the road and waiting for the cop to scan your plates before he came over. Eddy looked in his side view mirror, between the blue flashes he could see the outline of the California state trooper walking up to him, hat and everything.

  “Shit, a statey,” he said under his breath, he quickly put a smile on his face, and his hands at ten and two as the officer approached his window.

  “How are we doing tonight?” The officer said.

  “Good sir, what’s the problem?” Eddy said, handing his license and registration over without even being asked.

  “You tell me, Ed,” The officer said as he looked over Eddy’s paperwork.

  “Uh, was I was speeding, I’m pretty sure my tags are okay,” Eddy said.

  “You’re pretty sure? You’re driving, and you’re not one hundred percent sure your tags are right, what the hell is wrong with you son,” The officer said, looking down into Eddy’s window.

  “Oh um, that’s not what I meant, I uh,” Eddy was getting nervous.

  The officer laughed, “You’re fine kid, you going five over, getting late bet you probably want to get home,” he said.

  “Uhh yeah, yeah, I’m sorry,” Eddy said.

  “So you live on Dover street?” The office said, “That’s over in Los Sanero, isn’t it?”

  “Yes sir,” Eddy said, nodding.

  “Isn’t Los Sonero south of here, why are you going north?”

  “Oh, I forgot my book bag at a friend’s house, I was just popping over there to grab it before bed,” Eddy said.

  “All right son, I guess I can let you off with a warning, just keep it under 50, can you do that for me?” the Officer asked.

  “Yes sir, thank you,” Eddy said, smiling at him.

  “All right then, well I’ll let you-” Then Eddy heard something that sent a jolt up his spine, a bark, a bark of a German Shepard. He froze in place not wanting to show any reaction to the dog’s presence.

  The cop looked over his shoulder, “Balto, quiet boy,” he said, but the dog kept barking. The cop looked back down at Eddy, what little kind demeanor he had was gone, “You wait here son, I’ll be right back,” The officer said, walking over to his car, “What’s wrong with you Balto,” the cop said as he approached his vehicle, Eddy’s eyes locked on the image of him in his rear view mirror. The Trooper was on his passenger side, looking in his window talking to the K-9. Eddy’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he watched the Trooper try to calm his partner down. He could feel his heart almost explode as he saw the Trooper open the passenger door and let the dog out.

  “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck,” Eddy said. He took a deep breath. He tried to stay calm as the trooper approached his window.

  “Step out of the car please,” the Trooper said, Eddy could hear the growling of the K-9 next to his car.

  “Yes sir,” Eddy said, getting out of his car, as he stepped out he made eye contact with the K-9 who immediately pulled on his leash getting into Eddy’s car. The Trooper let Balto go, and he jumped in and immediately dove into the pile of trash in his passenger seat.

  The trooper looked at the pile of trash in Eddy’s car, “Like McDonald’s, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes sir,” Eddy said, sitting against his car hood looking down at the ground.

  “Yeah, so does Balto, you probably got some scraps there he smelt, you got to keep a clean car son, take some responsibility,” he said.

  “Yes sir,” Eddy said, looking up.

  “All right Balto, we’ll eat back at the station,” He tugged on Balto’s leash and pulled him out of the car.

  Holy shit, Eddy thought, was he seriously getting out of this? He looked over as the trooper pulled Balto out of the car, and in Balto’s mouth, was a crushed paper McDonald's cup.

  “Get that trash out of your mouth boy, give me that,” the cop said as he reached over and wrestled the cup from Balto’s mouth. He held it up in his hand and saw something. He looked at Eddy and gently shook it, hearing something stirring inside. He kept his eyes locked on Eddy, “Anything you want to tell me now, son?” the officer said.

  Eddy was silent, looking down towards the ground.

  The trooper opened the lid of the cup and reached in, pulling out a small plastic baggie full of a schedule one controlled substance, “Don’t suppose you like oReagano on your burgers, do you?” the Trooper said looking up at the bag.

  Eddy looked away. He tried to think of something he could say, but then realized he was about to be bestowed with a fundamental right, one so important that he was going to go ahead and start using it now.

  “Please turn around for me,” the Trooper said, he grabbed his radio and rattled off some code into it before reaching for the back of his belt. Eddy felt the Troopers hands grabbing his wrists, then the cold steel of handcuffs wrapped around them, “You are under arrest for possession of Marijuana. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court. With these rights in mind, are you willing to talk with me about the charges against you?” He looked at Eddy as he held the teen by his cuffed hands.

  Eddy said nothing, he had the right to remain silent, and he was damn sure going to use it.

  “Yep, that’s what they all say,” Officer McNamara said as he started to pull Eddy towards his car and to load him in the back. Eddy sat silently in the back of the vehicle as Officer McNamara loaded Balto in the passenger seat and then went around the car, getting into the driver’s seat. Eddy watched the Officer through the caged window separating the vehicle and the two sides of the law.

  “Good boy Balto,” Officer McNamara smiled, giving Balto a hard, loving rub on the back of the head.

  Eddy had an out of body experience sitting in the back of Officer McNamara’s squad car. He didn’t think about what he was going to do to get out of this. He didn’t think about anything. He had never been arrested before. He didn’t know what was going to happen. It wasn’t until he was sitting in the police station, next to Officer McNamara’s desk, getting his hands unclasped from their shackles. Eddy looked up as Officer McNamara took a seat across the desk in front of him.

  “I’m going to be honest with you Ed,” Officer McNamara said, “My kid smokes, all his friends smoke weed, I feel like shit whenever I have to bring one you kids in. I mean, usually it’s a black kid, and that black kid usually has a lot more then you had on you, I do what I can for them. Okay? Just between you and me, a lot of guys on the force, myself included, all voted for prop four-twenty. We are so sickened and disgusted by how much time, paperwork, and manpower we have to waist making sure teenagers don’t what teenagers are going to do anyway. You think we wouldn’t rather be out there, catching a rapist or a murderer. I know you’re not hurting anyone. A seventeen-year-old kid who probably hasn’t hurt a fly in his life doesn’t deserve to have his life ruined for just trying to have a good time, I mean, I’m sure you just bought it, I know you don’t sell this shit, right?”

  “No, no, I don’t,” Eddy said.

  “Good man,” Officer McNamara nodded, “So here’s what’s going to happen, you’re going to make a call to whoever you have too, your dad, your brother, or god forbid you have to call your mom, they can bail you out, it’s only a grand, and you have your court date on the fifteenth. You didn’t have enough on you for us to bother pressing anything serious, you’re going to pay fine, and you might have to do some service, you’re seventeen so this won't be on your record in, what month were you born in son?” he asked.

  “July,” Eddy said.

  “July, good, plenty of time to enjoy your summer,” Officer McNamara smiled, “There are two conditions to you going home tonight, one is that you use your phone call to get someone who has a thousand dollars down here, and two is you can’t be caught with this shit ever again, and by ever again I mean until you’re eighteen, sorry to screw the end your senior year son,” He said before sliding a small rotary phone to Eddy, “I’ll leave you to it,” Officer McNamara said getting up and leaving Eddy alone in the interrogation room.

  Eddy looked at the phone long and hard, who the hell could he call? His dad would be passed out, and even if the ring of the phone could pull him awake, he would be in for a fucked up conversation. He thought of his friends, most of them he had already sold to that night and were probably already too high to drive a car and get him, he had no idea where his mom was and Officer McNamara implied that even if he could reach her it wouldn’t be the best course of action he could take.

  Then a name popped into his head, someone who would help him, someone who had an investment in him. He picked up the phone and began to dial it, stroking the wheel of the phone to each number he needed, and letting it snap back before he put in the next one. He put the receiver to his ear and listened to it ring.

  “Hello,” the voice on the other end said.

  “Johnny, it’s Eddy, I need some help,” Eddy said.

  “Whatever you need man, what’s going on?” Johnny Vincent asked getting up from his couch. He was just about to light his pipe and chill with some Office on Netflix for the first time after a busy night of calculating profit margins and budgeting college costs. He didn’t hesitate for a second, he got his pants on and a nice shirt and tie. As he was walking out, Tabby saw him dressed up.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “I got to go somewhere. I got to help a friend,” he said.

  “You look like your dressed for court, what the fuck it’s 12:30 at night,” Tabby said.

  “In a way, I am,” Johnny smiled at her.

  Tabby had a straight look on her face, “You know we grew up together, I’ve known you my whole life, so that means I can see right through you when you talk in your little cryptic “look how smart I am” riddles,” she leaned against the wall, “Let me guess, one of your little flunkies got busted, and he called you to bail him out, and you want to look nice for it, is that what’s shaking out right now?” Tabby said.

  Johnny shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, “Fuck you, Sis,” Johnny said before making his way to the door.

  “You didn’t go to law school. You’re not allowed to act like a lawyer!” Tabby called out to her brother as he stepped out of the door, “I hope you know that!” she said as Johnny closed the door behind him.

  Johnny lit a pyramid off of his car’s cigarette lighter as he made his way to the police station. He held his arm out his window and knocked off some of the ash from his first puff of the cigarette. This was the last thing Johnny wanted to happen, and because it was the last thing he wanted to happen, Johnny prepared for it. He accepted it as an inevitability. He knew that when working with this many reckless high school kids, at least one of them would be pinched before graduation. He parked in the visitor space at the police station and made his way in.

  Johnny went up to the reception area where a middle-aged black female officer sat at a desk behind some bulletproof glass. “Name?” she asked with the kind of deadpan job-dedication anyone would have when scheduled for the night shift on a Friday.

  “Johnny Vincent,” he said, “I’m here to bail someone out,” he said as he straightened his jacket.

  “Name of the suspect,” she asked.

  “Eddy, Eddy Casso,” Johnny said.

  “Bail for the suspect is at one thousand dollars we accept cash or bail bondsmen contracts only,” she said.

  “Good thing I have cash then,” Johnny said pulling a fat wad of rolled up twenty dollar bills out of his jacket pocket and sliding it in the little slit connecting the bulletproof glass to the desk.

  “Fill this out and wait at the seating area,” she said, handing Johnny a clipboard with a single sheet of paper on it through the slit. Johnny took it from her and looked it over, “Do you have a pen?” he asked.

  She looked at Johnny with dagger eyes as she reached over to a cup full of blue Bic pens and grabbed one to hand to him.

  Johnny took a seat at the side of the wall and crossed his leg to give himself a table to start filling out the bail bond form. He held the Bic pen in his hand. It felt very familiar as he had handled many of these pens in his little business. He hated having to write with them. They were cheap and shoddy, and he had to scribble some lines at the top of the page to get the ink out of it so he could start filling the form out. He finished filling in his information on the form and brought it back to the middle-aged black woman behind the bulletproof glass. He slipped the clipboard through the slit and asked, “So how much longer until we can get out of here?” he asked.

  The middle-aged black woman said nothing as she looked up at him, lips as droopy as her eyelids, “It’s going to take as long as it’s going to take,” she said, “Please wait in the visitor’s seats by the wall until the suspect is released,” she said, the tone in her voice is that of slight agitation from being forced to do her job.

  “Fair enough,” Johnny said, holding his hands up. He went back to his seat and leaned back against the wall again. He pulled his phone out and started to fool around with an indie game called “Idle” while he waited. It took forty-five more minutes for Eddy to be released, coming out of the station’s holding cell followed by Officer McNamara.

  “Are you his bail?” Officer McNamara said, looking at Johnny.

  Johnny stood up in front of the two, he shared a quick look with Eddy, just nodding his head trying to show understanding and no disapproval, “Yes, sir, he’s a friend of mine,” Johnny said, holding his hand out to shake the officer’s hand.

  The officer didn’t reciprocate, “Lucky to have a friend so nice he puts up a grand for him,” Officer McNamara said.

  “Oh, Eddy and I go way back, we’re buds,” Johnny smiled as he patted Eddy’s shoulder.

  “Well, since you’re such a good pal, and care about your friend so much, I’m sure you’ll be a good influence on him and make sure he attends his court date on the 15th,” Officer McNamara said.

  “Oh, you have my guarantee he’ll be there sir, I’ll drive him there myself,” Johnny smiled.

  “You might have to. We impounded his car,” Officer McNamara said.

  “What?” Eddy looked at the pig.

  “Sorry son, but we can’t just leave a car on the side of the road all night, your friend,” he looked at Johnny, “He seems to have some spare cash, I’m sure he could help you get it out,” Officer McNamara smiled at Johnny.

  Johnny took a deep breath, “I’ll see what I can do,” he said as he stared the officer down, “Is our business finished here, sir?” Johnny asked.

  “He’s free to go, he can’t leave the state, and if he’s caught with illicit substances again, he will be arrested, and there will be no bail,” the Officer said.

  “That won’t be a problem,” Eddy said with pleading eyes as he looked up at the imposing Officer McNamara.

  “See that it’s not,” Officer McNamara said before letting go of Eddy’s shoulder and pushing him towards Johnny.

  “Let’s go,” Johnny said to Eddy before turning to Officer McNamara and straightening his jacket with confidence, “I guess we’ll see you in court,” Johnny said.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Officer McNamara said.

  “Yes sir,” Johnny said.

  Eddy didn’t say anything as the two left the precinct, and he didn’t say anything for the first eight minutes of the car ride back to his place. Then he broke the silence, “I’m sorry Johnny,” he said.

  “Don’t worry about it. Do you think I didn’t see this coming? As many of us as there are you think I didn’t plan a contingency for if and when one of you was eventually busted, The first two grand I made I put aside in a kitty just for the scenario of tonight’s events,” He kept one hand on the wheel as he lit a pyramid on his mustang’s cigarette lighter. He brought it to his mouth and took a deep inhale as he switched hands so he could lower his window.

  “I’m going to be okay right? Like, this charge, it’s not going to like, fuck me? right?” Eddy asked.

  “Number one, the amount you had, it’s a misdemeanor so already nothing to worry about, you’ll probably have to pay a fine. More accurately I’ll pay a fine. The worst thing that could happen is you might have to do some community service, pick up trash for a few Saturdays, bring lunch to some old woman who survived the Holocaust or something, shit like that. Number two, you’re seventeen. That’s the beauty of being a minor, anything happens, and it’s sealed away forever by next year,” Johnny said with confidence as he ashed his cigarette out the window.

  “I didn’t even want to go out for that last delivery,” Eddy said, exhausted as he rubbed his eyes.

  “Who was buying?” Johnny asked.

  “Tiffany,” Eddy said.

  “Tiffany, wait, cheerleader Tiffany, damn dude I don’t blame you,” Johnny laughed.

  “She said she would put in a good word with Kimmy for me,” he said.

  “The Asian girl? Oh, you dirty Gaijin,” he laughed, “It’s okay, there are times when every white male is susceptible to the allure of the Asian girl. What do you like about her? Is it the pigtails?” Johnny asked, looking over at his friend.

  “Man, fuck you,” Eddy said as he shared a laugh with Johnny.

  “It’s going to be okay man, I promise,” Johnny said.

  “Yeah but I can’t deal anymore, you heard that cop, if I’m caught with stuff again, I’m screwed,” Eddy said.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you out, any product you have, I’ll pay ninety percent market value for, don’t worry about the money dude,” Johnny said before taking another drag off his cigarette.

  “Hey Johnny, you said you’ve been doing research, coming up with plans for if any of us got busted,” Eddy said.

  “Yeah, I know, good for you right,” Johnny smiled at him.

  “But what if, what if you get busted?” Eddy asked.

  “Me,” Johnny paused, “I’m not going to get busted man, you can put away all those worries,” Johnny looked forward down the empty night rode, and took a deep breath, “I’m never getting busted.”