Pusher

four.

The toe of my boot dug into the crack between the wooden boards of Miles's porch as I waited for him to answer my knock. Normally I tried to avoid meeting him at his house at all costs. The thing was built in the early 40's - poorly built at that - and he shared it with five other college juniors. From the peeling green paint and shutters that were slipping off from the outer walls, it showed.

The place was a safety hazard with a roof, but I didn't have the time to wait around for our next Sunday dinner at Aunt Kelly's when I was supposed to meet Dante at Wendy's in an hour.

Sure enough, I had a text message from him by the time the dismissal bell rang. It was exhilarating, like a shot of adrenaline straight to my heart, but at the exact same time icy dread slid down the back of my neck, seeped into my skin, and settled into my stomach.

I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't know anything about pricing or selling weed. For all I knew, Miles might not even have anything left to give me.

It wasn't too late to back out, I told myself. But another part of me revulsed at the idea. For as long as I could remember I had been labeled as nothing more than the shy kid, the nerd, the girl who would let you copy her test answers in Spanish class.

For just one day, I wanted to be someone else.

And I guess that's the reason I waited out on my cousin's porch to beg him for some weed when I should have been studying for my AP Physics test.

The door swung open and the first thing that greeted me was Miles's nest of messy brown hair. He squinted at me through tired eyes. Thank god he was wearing pants.

"Let me guess," he started, leaning against the door frame. "Car trouble again? Now's not really the best time." He glanced over his shoulder as he spoke.

His voice was rough and low from a late night. Leave it to Miles to find a kegger on a Sunday.

"Not quite," I answered, shifting my weight from side to side before internally snapping at myself to appear more confident. "I was actually wondering if your offer still stood, you know, about the marijuana."

Shock replaced the exhaustion, expelling any trace of sleep from his eyes. An infectious grin spread out onto his face and twitched at mine. All these years and I still couldn't outgrow the subtle glee I got from the approval of my older cousin.

Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe despite all this, I was still painfully predictable.

Miles stepped aside and closed the door behind me after I stepped in. I took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. This place smelled like a gym locker and didn't look much better. Stray articles of clothes were thrown throughout the rooms. Side tables were littered with Mountain Dew cans and bags of chips, particularly Doritos.

I knew this place was built in the '40s but I hadn't realized it hadn't been clean since then too.

I followed him through the house to his room, glancing in the kitchen as we passed. Sitting on the counter was a boy with reddish-brown hair that stood up on end. His eyes were trained down in his bowl of lucky charms and he wasn't wearing anything save for a pair of superman boxers.

"So is that guy your roommate?" I asked, pausing in the doorframe of Miles's room while he tossed through his things. It could have been the messiest room in the house, but then again, I hadn't seen any of the other boys'.

"Uh, no, he doesn't live here," Miles said, scratching the back of his head and still sweeping the floor with his eyes. When realization hit, he dove into his dresser in what looked like an underwear drawer.

"Boyfriend then?" I amended.

"Nothing that serious. I met him at a party last night," he explained, eyes briefly glossing over me. He muttered the rest to himself. "I thought he'd be gone by now."

"Do you even know his name?"

Miles scrunched up his face, one eye squinted into a crinkled line. "Jeramy? Jake? It's kind of all a blur, honestly."

I shook my head, but he was still too busy digging to notice my exasperation. Of course, what he does — who he does — in his free time is no business of mine, but I would have thought he'd been coping with his last breakup in a more productive way than a never-ending string of one night stands.

"How much do you think you'll be able to sell in the next week or so?" Miles asked, tossing the bag between his hands. He did a shuffle around all of his junk to get back to the doorframe where I waited for him.

"I don't need a lot. Hang on, let me just check the text," I said, slipping my phone out of my back pocket. Miles took it from me to read himself.

"Dante?" He asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

"Met him in class."

"So," he started, drawing the word out. His eyes flicked up to mine. "Do you like him or something?"

I scrunched up my face in a mix of surprise and disgust. Dante wasn't that bad, I mean, he was nice enough, but I don't make a habit of hanging around guys who can hardly spell their own names.

"No," I answered sharply. I sounded too defensive. I wouldn't even believe myself, so I switched the focus back to him before he could pester me more. "Why are you even asking me that?"

"No boyfriend, no girlfriend," Miles shrugged. "I just figured maybe you changed your mind about dealing because you were trying to impress this guy."

Wow. Thanks, Miles. I'm glad you don't see me as just another emotionally-driven, flimsy teenage girl.

"I'm perfectly fine being single. Besides, you don't have a real relationship either."

"Yeah, but I go to parties and have a social life. And, you know, intimate relations," he alluded, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen. Eww. I did not need that picture in my head. "When was the last time you even went to a party?"

"It was over the summer, that one in Bellville," I said, my arms sliding across my chest. "I was dumb enough to agree to be your designated driver and your friend Matt threw up all over me."

He cracked another crooked smile in remembrance but wiped it away when he caught my scowl. It flickered there for a moment before it dropped completely and he changed the subject. Smart.

"Alright. Looks like you're short on time so I'll measure this out for you, but the next time you come around I'll get you your own scale and you can start doing this yourself."

"Actually Miles," I started, hesitation stretching out my words. "I don't think I'll be making a habit of this. I'm already a nervous wreck. Just this one time and then I'm done."

He shot me a look that clearly stated that he didn't believe me, released a soft sigh, but didn't argue. I followed him out of the room and awkwardly stood behind him in the kitchen while he fiddled with his scale, offering a small wave to the half-asleep boy who still sat on the counter.

"I'm Angelica."

"Justin," he answered, and then went back to his Lucky Charms.

Within a few minutes, I had a little baggie of weed tucked inside my purse and I was floating halfway out of the front door when I turned back to my cousin, the words tumbling out of my mouth before he could cut me off.

"Maybe Justin hasn't left yet because he really likes you. It might not be that bad to have a real relationship again," I said, low enough for only us to hear.

Miles shook his head, dragging me into a brief half hug, and leaned down to whisper in my ear, "The sex was awful."

I couldn't help it. I laughed, partly at him and partly at me. What was I trying to accomplish by setting my cousin up with someone I didn't even know, anyway? Miles was the older cousin, the one who always had everything figured out. He could take care of himself. He would be fine.

But as I glanced over my shoulder to wave goodbye, I found a trace of heartbreak still cemented in his hazel eyes and suddenly I wasn't so sure.