“I need you to do something for me.”
It turned out that Ian was a dealer. He knew a guy that knew a guy, which meant he could get his hands on a lot more than weed, including molly that made Flaca's toes curl. He explained it away as a necessity. Nobody could get by on a teacher's salary, he reasoned, so he did what he had to do.
But now he wanted Flaca’s help.
"You're asking me to sell to the other kids?"
"Flaca, I'm old. I teach here. They’re not gonna buy it from me."
"You're sounding like that snakeman in the 'Just Say No' commercial. You want me to cruise the playground too? Maybe I can get some toddlers hooked on smack."
"You know it's not the same thing."
He stepped closer. Hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her in to him.
"We both know that teenagers are smart enough to make their own decisions. Aren't they?"
He caught Flaca's eye. Her resolve started to melt a little.
"Nobody in this school even talks to me."
"Don't be naïve. The dealer is the most popular kid around," he offered with a grin. "Everyone loves you when you're giving them what they want."
"What if I got caught? What if –"
"You won't. This is important. It isn't just for me…"
Flaca's eyes searched him, settling on his lips, and there she saw a sparkle. A silky, golden thread emerging from his mouth, stretching to the sky, spinning a web of tales of his glorious dreams for the two of them, if only he could get the money. The words spun quickly – the places they would go, the things they would buy together. Honey dripping from his tongue and encircling her, binding her hands and bending her to his will.
**********
Selling was much easier than Flaca thought, and in no time she had packets of molly floating all over school. It was as simple as passing notes in class, and a lot more profitable. So profitable in fact, that she was able to bring on a couple of other girls to do the day-to-day selling so she rarely had to carry the product herself.
There was only the weekly cash and supply drop between home and school, and the occasional fire to put out when they sold out of molly or somebody couldn't pay. Best of all, Ian gave her a hefty cut of the profits and kept her on a loose leash, which made Flaca feel like a boss. It was her own private, fully functional operation and though she'd never admit it aloud, she was proud of herself.
And then, her stash went missing. On a Sunday afternoon when everyone was home and anyone could have taken her shit. Uncles and cousins in the driveway, siblings in the back room in front of the TV, babies in the living room screaming for tías and abuela in the kitchen running their mouths, bodies on the steps playing video games as Flaca stomped downstairs. There was no way she could go around asking about a missing backpack full of drugs.
She stood in the middle of the rowdy zoo ready to bust a bitch's head open, when a sharp whistle cut the air. Flaca turned to find her Uncle Tino standing at the side door leading to the driveway, a knowing look on his face.
************
Flaca had a huge family. She had grown up around swarms of boys and men and never thought much of it.
But now, leaning against the glistening paint of her Uncle Tino's parked car with a hundred more uncles and cousins surrounding, seeing the angry ink of their face tats stretch and shrug like cryptic symbols of war, her whole body was acutely aware of them and what they were capable of.
"This is serious shit. Where'd it come from?"
"Don't fuck around. Speak up!"
"Mija, you better start talking."
The fear was so potent because she knew that she couldn't. Flaca wasn't a snitch, and so she would have to take whatever consequences came with keeping her mouth shut. She imagined them rifling through the rest of her things until they found evidence of Ian's existence, then hunting him down like a pack of wolves in the night.
Flaca swallowed hard, refusing to let her terror creep to the surface.
But as it turned out, they didn't want to murder Ian. They wanted to meet him. They wanted in.
"You found a whole new supply, one that nobody else knows about," Tino shook his head.
Flaca studied his face and realized that he, too, was proud of her. He was also ready to bring Ian's product to the streets using the members of his own gang.
"This is gonna be great for business."
"What about me?" Flaca fired back. She didn't want to get into this line of work in the first place, but suddenly the idea of getting cut out of it made her feel like a territorial little puppy clinging to her master's leg.
"I'm supposed to be selling," she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
The others laughed at her boldness.
Flaca had always been the good one in the family. Besides the occasional fight or suspension, she had never been in any serious trouble. Never dropped out, never got knocked up. It was a commonly held belief among the Gonzales clan that one day, all the books she read would help her get out and make something of herself. So any time some gangster shit was about to go down, Tino and the others kept her far away from it. But the way that Tino now stared at her, wheels turning, let her know that was no longer the case.
"There's only one way you get involved," he explained. "You're already part of the family, but now you've got to become part of the family."
YOU ARE READING
How Soon Is Now?
Fanfiction"Freak" was the one word that always set Flaca off, and the other kids knew it. Ever since she fell in love with goth and black became her signature color, there had been fights every day. She was a black sheep in a flock of, well, sheep.
