Hood Rats | Sandy Milkovich

Debts

The park closest to the Torres's was barely a park. The play area was made up of rusting bars and a sad swing set, the ground layered with molding wood chips. Next to it lie a field, which was normally full in the Summers, except at night when the only people there were drug dealers and kids sleeping amongst the moldy wood.

"What's in the bag?" Rory asked, tapping her shoulder into the taller girl's arm.

Sandy leaned away and pulled her bag closer. "Drugs."

Their shoes crunched against the dry patches of grass. Rory still had no idea what her plans were, outside of the inevitable, but she supposed she at least owed it to Sandy to go along with it. "Ah." A smirk played at her lips.

By then Sandy had led them to a corner of the field where the grass was regularly watered and lush compared to the dry patches. She pulled a rolled up wool blanket from the bag around her shoulder and set it down.

They sat down together and she produced a pack of cigarettes. "Your brother done being a dick?"

"Nope. He's still out with my best friend." Rory bit her lip, watching the other girl pull out a small pipe from the pack.

It took another minute for Sandy to respond. She brought the palm of her hand up to the back of Rory's head. The smack wiped the smile right off her face.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"That is for fucking my cousin." Just as quickly as the venom crept into her voice, it was gone. She reached over the pack and grabbed Rory by the front of the shirt, smashing their lips together.

It was a long, slow kiss. The kind that makes your head spin and your stomach flutter. Rory melted, but Sandy kept her stance firm.

It was a strange role reversal. When things were good, Rory was the one that kept it casual. Sandy was nothing more than a booty call on a Thursday, or a quickie on the back of the bus, but to her it was a bit more. It was always a bit more.

Things felt different now.

"I deserved that," Rory said when they parted, rubbing her head. "The uh- hitting thing, not the kiss."

She hummed and took the pipe back out, as well as a black Bic. "You never do escape the drama, do you?"

It was more of a statement, but Rory couldn't disagree. She watched the glow from the lighter illuminate Sandy's face. "It's kind of my specialty."

Blowing smoke, Sandy passed the pipe and regarded her with a somewhat dethatched look in her eye. "What're you gonna do about your half brother?"

She shrugged simply, trying not to give it too much thought. "Cross that bridge when we get to it? He probably needs a few days."

"Don't you guys have like a memorial or something for your dad that he can visit?"

Almost immediately, Rory laughed. "Would you give your dad that?"

The question clearly hit a nerve, because Sandy narrowed her eyes. "No."

"Exactly." Rory exhaled thick smoke from her nostrils and coughed lightly. "He was a piece of shit and still everyone erases all that just because he's dead." She leaned back on her hand so that she could look up at the clear, dark sky. "How's your family?"

Noticing the shift in topic, Sandy froze. She could see just by the look on her face that it was a mistake to bring it up. "As fucked as usual. Colin is getting out soon."

"I don't know how they keep letting you guys out of prison."

"Over crowding, mostly," Sandy explained. Her grip on her own knees tightened. "Gives them all just enough time to rank up some street cred and some new shitty tattoos. Kind of like a mini vacation."