Hooked Up
Chapter One: Gotta Keep 'Em Separated
"Lori, you BITCH, give me back my jacket!" Mikae Kreubens chased the miscreant through the halls of Meridiana High School, cursing under her breath. Lori Anderson never missed an opportunity to swipe her prized black jacket and take off. Mikae never let her get very far, and of course Lori was apologetic afterwards, but she always came back again at the next chance she got.
"Don't get yourself in a snit," Lori snapped back at her, grinning and laughing as she dodged the obstacles in her path, sprinting over a bent-down student and sidestepping a teacher who made a grab to stop her.
"I'm gonna kill you!" Mikae screeched, and leaped at the other girl, tackling her down to the tiled hallway floor. Lori yelled in surprise and rolled onto her back, shielding her face with her arms, the jacket stretched between them. "If I ever catch you swiping my shit again, I swear to GOD, Lori…" Mikae snatched her jacket and shrugged it on, glaring down at Lori, who was all sarcastic smiles.
"Yeah, what're you gonna do, Mikae? Go on, get off me." Lori smirked at her, and Mikae slowly got to her feet, heading back the way she came with a wave.
"I'll catch you every time, Lori, you KNOW I will."
"Sorry, I just LOVE that jacket!" Lori called out sweetly. When Mikae had rounded the corner, heading back for her own locker, Lori stood up and brushed herself off, looking around the crowd for her mini-gang. "Jitter, Hulk, Squigs: let's get the heck out of here." The three boys stared at her for a few moments, and Jitter ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. "What?" she said angrily.
"Um," ventured the bandanna-headed Hulk, "There's still ninth period to go."
"What, you like gym? You weirdo! Grab your crap and let's just blow, all right?"
They split up to their different lockers, muttering assent, and Lori crossed her arms, shaking her head. Lunkheads, she thought. It's too bad they're the only ones who hang around when the going gets tough. With a grin, Lori popped open her own locker, pulling out her backpack as the bell rang in the nearly empty hall. Hence, the tough get going. "Let's move," she called out to them, slamming her locker shut and bolting for the front entrance, tennis shoes squeaking on the floor.
"Haven't seen you dealing here before."
"It's new stuff. Well…" The pale man lifted his head slightly, a shock of black hair falling over his clammy-looking face. "To be more accurate, it's a bit of the new stuff, diluted with a bit of the old stuff. I'm offering you the first crack at it."
"Yeah?" Ric Sanchez gave the supplier a quick once-over. He appeared to be having trouble following the standard rule of not doing what you're dealing, but that was a judgment error. It didn't necessarily reflect the quality of the drugs he was pushing. "What's it called?"
"Substance."
"Yeah? What does it do?"
"It's a high like nothing else." The man grinned, his yellow-tinged eyes giving the expression an extraordinarily creepy effect.
"That's what they said about E, and then stupid kids started dying. Anything like that gonna happen with this crap?"
"Not if you sell it right."
Ric hated taking gambles. Kids might not buy something new, they might not want to spend any extra money, they might not want to try anything that came in needles, like this stuff obviously did. He perused the samples in their briefcase, then glanced again at the supplier. Then again, the police were getting closer all the time to finding out where the regular drugs were coming from. A new buzz to push would give Ric an edge, so long as he kept it quiet from the other dealers. He wiped his forehead and pushed his short black hair back. "What's one dose?"
"One shot, full-up."
"…Okay. I'll bite. Give me a case and I'll see how it does on the streets."
"You know, you won't be sorry. It'll take off, you'll see, and there's no end to this stuff."
"All natural, huh?" Ric handed over the necessary money and took the briefcase from the other man, snapping it shut.
"Something like that." He grinned again, and Ric shivered. "Here," the supplier said, and Ric took the cell phone offered him. "My number's programmed in there; it's the only one. If I need you first, I'll ring you up."
"Yeah," Ric said as he tucked the phone into his jacket pocket, "sounds all right." He turned and headed back to the main streets, hoping and praying to whatever god would listen that his deal would pay off.
Type 1012 just smiled in satisfaction, and stepped back into the shadows of the alley.