Hanukah 2
It was only the second week, and month of December was shaping up to be the best of his short life.
Three things had happened already that school year.
One, Zach found out that he really, really liked drugs. Hallucinogenics provided the most amusement, weed kept his mind happy while still being able to function in a family setting, pills were cheap and plentiful in his overmedicated prep school. Finding the right combination was a delightful science experiment: toking up and then popping an Adderall let to skull-rattling masturbation. The next project was procuring a Viagra tablet to take with E.
Two, he had finally gotten laid, and only five weeks after Kevin did. The girl was a solid seven and a half, would have been nicer if she didn't use so much hairspray, and had gasped out when he stuck it in: "Ow, you're big!" The smug expression still hadn't left his face.
Three, he had made some serious money peddling the illegal pharmaceuticals using the time-tested trick of buying low and selling high. Rich kids would pay ridiculous amounts to get fucked up, Zach found, simply because they were sheltered and lazy. It was much tidier to buy off of a classmate, and they were all too chickenshit to wander down to the docks on their own. He had bought his father a new laptop for Hanukkah, and he was going to give it to him tonight.
When he unwrapped it, he looked at his glassy-eyed son with a trace of suspicion, and mustered a thanks.
Later, his father found him outside methodically poking holes in the the frozen layer on top of the snow with a stick. "Zach?"
He dropped the stick and ignored the tiny green worms heads that would poke out from them. He'd get them later. "Yeah?"
His father didn't look very much like him; he was dark-haired and olive-skinned like Tabby, and calm like her too. "Zach, are you doing something that you shouldn't?"
With his new hobbies, he had gotten very good at lying. "No. What are you talking about?"
They heard shouting coming from inside the house: Chrissy and their mother going at it, screaming at the top of their lungs. His father sighed and turned back go inside. "We'll talk about this later." He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to his son, who was staring at the snow with his face wiped of expression. "I trust you, you know."
"Thanks Dad," Zach muttered. He fingered a tab of acid inside of his pocket and stuck it on his tongue the moment the door closed.