Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Chapter One

There was a point in our lives when I was comfortable saying Dane Cole was my friend. It was my sophomore year of high school, his senior, and we were at party—this was how we met.

I had recently discovered that my brother, Len, was doing some serious drugs. I won’t even say what kind of drugs. That was the excuse I used to work up the nerve to talk to Dane. He was slouched on the floor, looking bored and yet comfortable. I’d always thought he was sorta cute; yet not the typical oh-em-gee-I-must-have-him. His hair, then, was shaggy, the strands of dark brown constantly in his dark green eyes.

I wanted knew Len would hate me for it, but I had to try.

So I just walked right on up to Dane through the crowd of mostly intoxicated teenagers. He either honestly didn’t see me, or was trying not to. Normally, I would have been put off by that and turned tail and ran. Not tonight. Tonight I would be brave and try to salvage my brother’s life, while at the same time finally speaking to Dane.

I sat on the floor next to him, like we were long lost pals. "So, I have a question."

He turned his head boredly, those eyes staring into mine unflinchingly. He didn’t say anything, but then again he didn’t have that ‘piss off’ look I had seen him give many people.

So I rushed on. "How do you cut your connections with drug dealers…like, completely?"

The side of Dane’s mouth lifted in a small smirk. His eyes sparked with interest. "Don’t tell me a little girl like you is mixed up in drugs."

"I’m sixteen," I said with a frown. "And I’m not into drugs. I’m just wondering."

"Look, girl, if you work on the school newspaper—"

"I don’t, okay? It’s personal."

"Obviously not personal enough for you to come and ask me that question. Why don’t you run along now and play with your sunshine friends?"

"Dude, really, what’re we, hippies? Pretty sure that shit ended in the 70’s," I retorted. "And I’m not asking just because—like, I totally wanna know!—but because it’s personal. Someone close to me is mixed up with dealing and I wanna know how he can get cut off without knowing someone is deliberately doing it."

For a minute, Dane just stared at me. He seemed almost…impressed. Maybe that was why he answered me at all. "Depends," he said. "Is he buyer or dealer?"

"Both, but mainly buyer."

"You can’t really expect me to tell you the answer to your question, can you? I mean, a girl like you shouldn’t even have your hands that much into this stuff. Let me handle it."

"Why?" I was seriously baffled by this, and totally not expecting it. "I mean, why would you want to? You don’t know me. And besides, I didn’t ask you so you would offer your assistance. It’s my problem."

"But it’s not," Dane said. "And if you are who I’m pretty sure you are, it’s your brother’s fault. It’s really sweet that you wanna help him yourself, but you can’t. Look, I’m just gonna be honest. You’re too pretty. Your brother’s mixed up with some not nice people. You strike me as a smart girl. Do you honestly believe you can handle this by yourself?"

I bit my lip, thinking about it. "Okay," I said at last. "Let’s say I don’t. What then?"

"Like I said." Dane leaned back against the wall, hands propped behind his head. "Let me take care of it."

"It’s not that I don’t believe you. Well, okay, I kinda don’t. What’s the catch?"

Dane shrugged. "No catch. I just want you outta it. No girls allowed." He winked.