Trust Me by Melinda Metz - Fingerprints - 3 Page B

Haven’t seen you in a while.”
    “Been busy,” Anthony answered. Although the truth was, he’d been avoiding the place. Avoiding temptation. “I ran out of gas a couple of blocks away.”
    “I can hook you up with a gas can,” Nunan answered. He ran his fingers over his shaved head and giggled, a sure sign that he was high. “Is there anything else I can get you-smoked almonds, some other kind of smoke?” He laughed until he snorted. The guy actually thought he was Dennis Miller.
    Anthony started to shake his head. He hadn’t bought any weed since the first day of school, when it finally sank in that if he was ever going to graduate, it wasn’t going to happen if he spent all his time sharing tokes in the bathroom.
    But somehow right now he was finding it hard to remember why that even mattered. “Actually, yeah. I could be up for some smoke,” he answered.
    Tonight it was just what he needed. Man, he loved the way he felt when he got high. The world slowed down, and nothing seemed all that important anymore.
    Nunan gave him an I-knew-you’d-be-back-buying smirk and pulled a paper bag out from under the counter.
    Anthony knew Nunan already had the stuff in the bag-and that Nunan would be selling him the smallest amount possible. Even when Anthony was a regular, he’d always bought a little at a time since he never had much cash on him. “Okay, you got a Slim Jim and a pack of gum,” Nunan said, adding them to the bag and ringing them up with a flourish directed at the nearest security camera. “You want the gas now, too?”
    Anthony shook his head. “I’m going out back for a while. I’ll get it later.” He handed over a twenty-dollar bill and got back a lot less change than he would have for a lousy Slim Jim and some gum. Nunan gave him a half salute as Anthony headed out. Since he was careless, he found a seat in back of the place where a Dumpster hid him from view. Usually there were a couple of guys back there, but tonight it was empty. Which was fine by him. He pulled the little bag of weed out of the plastic sack and realized he didn’t have any rolling papers.
    He could feel the questions starting to build in his head again, getting ready to stone him. He needed a couple of tokes. Fast. That would at least dull the questions out, make them feel like they were being asked from far away.
    If he went back in the store, Nunan might be in atalkative mood and keep him in there for half an hour before coughing up the papers. There was no way Anthony could wait that long. He scanned the ground. Yeah. Halfway under the Dumpster was a bong someone had made out of a beer can. He grabbed it, turned it over in his hands.
    Still usable. Less than a minute later he was pulling in his first lungful of smoke. Yeah. Oh God, yeah. Exactly what he needed.
    “You wasted yet?” a voice asked in the darkness.
    “No. Sadly,” Anthony answered. He wished whoever it was would just go away, but Sean McGee appeared from around the Dumpster and sat down next to him.
    “Good. Because I have a business proposition for you,” McGee told him.
    “I heard about the security codes,” Anthony replied.
    McGee scowled. “Somebody talks too much.”
    “It’s not like I heard it all over the place,” Anthony answered, not mentioning that he’d gotten the info from Jesse.
    He held out the bong to McGee, but Sean shook his head.
    “Got to stay focused,” he said. He reached down and adjusted himself. Not something Anthony needed to see. “So I need one more guy. Getting in the houses is going to be no problem-I’ve got all the security codes, which is probably what you heard.”
    Anthony nodded.
    “I just need help moving stuff out. We’ve got to be fast. Organized. And I don’t want anyone who panics. You interested?” McGee asked.
    Anthony took another toke, held it in. He’d always wondered if he was like his dad. Maybe he should find out if he was, especially since Rae went to all the trouble of tracking the guy