The garage is actually pretty huge. As we walk around, we make eye contact with other boys, and awkwardly stay silent. A few of them whistle at us and throw out cat calls. Those who don't, shake their heads and continue to work. Some of these guys are fair looking. Who am I kidding. All of these guys are cute af. Most of them are Latino, or atleast some type of Asian. There are a few light skinned boys too. I literally can't look at them. They're like my boy weakness. Strange how we haven't seen any girls...
A light Italian guy approaches Juano in the front. They converse, and the man glances at us boys every now and then, and smiles. He's gotta be like 20 something. He built nicely and has a friendly face. Dude, his biceps are like mini bowling balls, and they flex when he rubs his hands out of the casualness of the conversation.
As they make their final nods, the guy raises his hands in the air. He's wearing a dark lapis tank top and fitted black jeans. He has a white utility belt on that looks similar to the garage boy's belts only bigger.
"Okay boys! We're going to drive you guys down further 'till we reach the Barracks and Filing Office. There you guys will be given your ID badges, rooms, clothes, currency, and devices. You guys will have a week to look around and get settled. Then you will train for an occupation of your choice, and finally begin working in said occupation. Any questions?" His voice is strong and he attracts attention easily. A fairly chubby boy with glasses raises his hand and begins to speak.
"Yes, sir, um-" he's cut off.
"Oh yeah, all of your questions that you might have are answered in that little blue book, so without further ado, let's get going!"
The boy pouts. We shrug and follow the guy to a topless blue Jeep with an added on back carriage with padded white leather seats. Everything smells so good that I have don't even care about where we're going.
The unnamed white guy hops in the driver seat. Juano gets in the passenger seat, and Jon Franco squeezes in the back with us.
The man speaks as we speedily drive to a big door that's further down the garage. Like this is a big ass garage.
"By the way boys, my name is Giovanni. You can call me Mr. G, Gio, Vanni, whatever falls into respectful terms, really. I'm the head of the garage, and I'm also guidance counselor, so if you need help or just wanna talk, I'll be around,"
Some of the boys nod.
Juano turns around and looks at us for a few awkward couple of seconds.
"Well, introduce yourselves!" He exclaims. The boys shuffle in there seats with dumb sounding "Ohs" and "My bads".
"I'm Dawson," says the stammering Texas Chainsaw boy from before. He's short and has brown hair and big ears. He's like a little mouse. As annoying as he is, I feel bad for him.
Kids like this shouldn't be kidnapped.
"Leo," says a dark olive skinned boy with a star carved in the side of his hair style; it's sort of like an Afro, but his hair is really fine, and is in light curls. His voice is dude-ish.
Giovanni looks back and smiles at him, and glances at the light skinned chunky boy.
"Oh, I'm Walten," he jiggles. His hands look sticky. He looks at me and catches me looking him over. He smiles. I roll my eyes and rest my elbow on the side of the metal door.
I plop my chin into my hand and look out at all of the cars and trucks with that weird Cannabis logo and shiny blue paint jobs. I hear more voices.
"Joseph,"
"Brett,"
"Hayden"
"Gavin,"
"Hunter,"
There's a long pause, and I draw my attention back to the silent boys, hoping that I didn't just awkwardly forget to go.
Eyes were on Dexter.
"You don't care." He says smugly.
The Jeep slows down. Giovanni turns around and put his glasses on top of his head."Oh course I do, we take care of our boys here, and we like to get to know them a bit better, that's all," He shrugs and puts his glasses back down.
"But you don't. You don't care about shit but your money and fucking product,"
The Jeep stops completely, and Giovanni takes off his glasses and holds them in his hand.
"Look, kid. I just wanna be able to help you guys out. Get to know ya. Hang out, get you stuff you like, fulfill your needs, all that mushy shit. Because trust me; here? Nobody's gonna volunteer to have your back all the way through, and if they do, they're either lying, or they want the punta," he motions towards his crotch. Dexter leans back, closed his legs and crossed his arms.
"Now, what's your name, kid?"
"Dexter." He declares. Giovanni nods, and turns around. He puts his glasses on once more, and looks at me through the rear view mirror.
"And how'a bout' you, quiet storm?"
I glare back at him through the mirror respectfully,
"Marshall,"
His gives me a big smile and chuckles and looks back out to the end of the garage. I look back out, and glance at Dexter. He looks me over and blinks his eyes away from mine. The crease of his smirk cracks towards me. I can't help but to roll my eyes to look at our stop: a little office with a blue door.
YOU ARE READING
Cannabis
أدب المراهقين"The air is oddly cold. I feel physical paralysis for a moment. The bus hits another bump. I turned my head and peered out the window. It was bright outside. I squinted a bit, and led my eyes to the heap of dust that we were trailing. Apparently I s...