Snow Space

Trader

"My brothers, this is not helpful!"

Khamil sat on the brick wall outside the council house, a cigarette between his lips as he watched the exchange in amusement. Gaz had a mini-microwave, one that he'd stolen from the store down the road, and upon realising he had no use for it, was now attempting to sell it to their pot-dealer. 

"But look at the quality!" he was exclaiming, with the same enthusiasm as a desperate salesman on the brink of eviction, waving his hands in front of the microwave. 

"I sell weed!' Jaheed repeated in his thick Indian accent, his arms out in growing frustration at Gaz's refusal to listen. "Not electronic kitchenware!"

"Think of the dollar dollar  you could make from selling this!"

"Think of the takkar takkar when I hit you on the head!"

Khamil leant back with laughter, his face comically lit up with glee at the conversation. 

"You're fucked, Gazza," he said with a grin, taking the cigarette from his mouth to exhale, the silvery smoke washing the air with a brief haziness. 

"Shut up, Khamil. So, how much are we taking this for?"

Gaz sharply rapped his knuckles against the top of the mini-microwave before folding his arms. Jaheed looked at him, pushing out his lips as he pondered. Of course he was going to buy it - he'd sell anything he could to the black market. It was just a case of getting the price down.

"Forty."

"Bollocks. Sixty."

"Thirty five and I don't cut you off."

"Deal," Gaz said, leaning over the microwave to shake Jaheed's hand with a grin, leaving Khamil to roll his eyes. He jumped off the brick wall, clasping his hand against Jaheed's in a parting gesture before sticking the cigarette back between his lips - watching as Gaz received his money. 

"Always a pleasure doing business!" he called over his shoulder, before shuffling the money into a neat wad and shoving it into his puffer jacket pocket. 

As they walked away, Khamil laughed, patting his friend on the back.

"He ripped you off big-time, mate."

"I know," Gaz muttered, as they met the other pair of boys waiting for them by the bus stop, where Pikey was rolling a cigarette, wetting the edge of the paper with his tongue before sealing it off in a pretty disgraceful roll. He was notorious for those. Omar sat next to him on his bike, one hand on the handles.

"How much?"

"Thirty-five," Khamil grinned, leaving the other boys to groan at Gaz. 

"Are you fucking thick? I could've sold it for twice that!"

"Lay off!" Gaz replied in annoyance, shooting a look at Khamil who winked back in response. "Not like he helped any."

"Thought I'd let you take the stage."

"What are you copping then?" Pikey asked, and it was only when he looked up from his cigarette that Khamil realised he was addressing him.

"Nothing mate, I'm on thin ice as it is."

"Don't be a pussy."

Khamil shot him a wry smile. 

"Nothing in this area, anyway."

"Then expand onto Sutherland road."

"What, you mean Hade's territory? Do you want me dead?"

Pikey grinned, inhaling a lungful of smoke - as he spoke, it escaped his lips. 

"He was on our land this morning."

Khamil looked up at Gaz, who had a smile of anticipation on his face - prompting him to mirror it with a laughed sigh. 

"Fuck it, let's go then."