September

Wesley—Sixteen Years Old

“Who should we call to pick you up?” the cop asks me, staring at me over the top of his glasses with eyebrows raised. He’s tried Susan and Billy Anderson multiple times, but they aren’t picking up.

Fear and nausea consume me, making my hands shake. I wish I had a mom right now. The thought almost makes an inappropriate laugh bark out of me.

But I’m too scared to laugh.

Too ashamed.

When the red and blue lights and siren turned on next to me while I was walking down the street, I assumed it was for the car at the light.

I was wrong.

It turns out, Officer Jordan was following me tonight, and I didn’t even know it, too preoccupied with thinking about getting a car or a motorcycle.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I had three sealed boxes in my book bag and no idea what was inside them. I never wanted to know. Like not knowing the name of the substance I was helping to distribute would make me innocent.

The Andersons are going to flip out. I just can’t face them tonight.

I give the cop Mrs. Bellamy’s cell number. I know she’ll be mad at me, but she’ll help.

One hour later, she comes through the front doors of the police station with Mr. Bellamy at her side. Though I’m not as close with him as I am with her, he’s always been nice to me.

“Wesley! Are you okay? What happened?”

I’m seated in front of Officer Jordan’s desk, but I stand and kind of launch myself into Mrs. Bellamy’s hug.

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and my throat burns with emotion as she squeezes me, her arms protectively wrapped around me.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I’m glad you called me. You did the right thing.” Her hand soothes the back of my neck. “Who’s going to tell us what’s going on?”

They take a seat next to me, and Officer Jordan gives them a summary of tonight’s events.

Cops had received a tip about suspicious activity in the locker room, so they were watching the room closely. They saw me enter the locker room without a book bag, then leave with one. He pulled me over, searched my bag, and found a large sum of marijuana. Enough to charge me for possession with intent to distribute.

And I need to appear in court in two weeks.

I keep my eyes down the whole time, staring at the floor, then my dirty tennis shoes, then the bottom of the desk. It’s a piece of crap really—this desk. The front panel is crooked, and it’s bothering the heck out of me. It’s the only thing keeping me from feeling like myself right now.

Who the fuck am I? Am I actually a soon-to-be convicted drug dealer?

What if I have to go to jail?

Did I really ignore my conscience and let my desperation for money overrule common sense?

What if the Andersons throw me out?

What will happen when Bryce finds out the package never made it to its destination?

And, worst of all, what will Anna think of me when she finds out?

If I manage to make it out of this situation unscathed, I will never, ever go near drugs again. It’s just not worth it.

“What the fuck happened?”

Bryce is so pissed off, spit flies from his mouth with every word and lands on my cheek. I want to wipe it off, but I don’t. It’d just piss him off even more.

I’m not sure what to say to calm him down.

His drugs are gone. The police have them. And he’s out twenty thousand dollars because of me.

My lack of response seems to enrage him even more though.

“Are you fucking deaf? I asked you a question!” he bellows in my face.

His three goons step closer, surrounding me on all sides. I know the drill from watching them do this to other people. First, they use their fists. Then, they threaten people close to you. After that, they use weapons. It’s very effective.

I wasn’t this scared when I had handcuffs on my wrists, sitting in the back of a police car.

“I don’t know how he saw me,” I start quietly.

“Did you change your fucking route?”

“Yes! I took a different route every time. I’m sorry,” I finish lamely.

“You’re sorry?” He laughs in my face, but it’s definitely not because he thinks anything is funny.

“What do you want me to do, Bryce? It’s not like I tried to get arrested.”

He circles me, considering. “Did you give them my name?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Don’t you think they would have come talk to you by now if I had?”

They asked. Boy, did they. Tempting as it was to give his name to the cops, I don’t know all his employees’ names. Nor do I know his boss’s name, who is likely a hell of a lot scarier and more powerful than Bryce. I don’t know enough or have any proof to back it up. All I do is pick up a book bag from a locker at school and bring it to a different locker in a school the next city over. I don’t sell the drugs myself. I don’t know who Bryce buys from. All I know is that Bryce’s boss probably has way more goons and way more power. There’s no way I want to fuck with some drug lord.

“I guess you’re right. You owe me twenty thousand.”

I sigh. “You know I don’t have that kind of money.”

“How much do you have?”

“Five.” I sigh. That was supposed to go toward a car and car insurance.

“Fuck! That’s not going to cut it, Scott.”

“I figured as much.”

“How do you suggest you pay off your debt?”

God, this is painful. I wish he would just tell me what he wanted already.

“What do you want?”

He circles me again, the sound of his footsteps on the cement loud in my head. When he stops behind me, I tense, waiting for a blow. I know I’m not leaving here untouched.

Silence has stretched for so long, I flinch when he speaks, “I want you to continue to deliver for me.”

“What?” I spin around, a sick feeling in my gut.

His smile is slow and nasty. “For free.”

“I can’t do that,” I insist. “The cops already have me on their radar.”

“Exactly. You played the regretful foster kid act perfectly. They’re going to slap you with probation because it’s your first offense. They’ll never believe you’d do it again.”

“They’re still going to keep an eye on me. Do you really want to risk more of your supply getting confiscated?”

“You’re going to have to get creative. Be careful.”

“I was careful!”

“You’re a smart kid. Think of ways to be even more fucking careful.”

I can’t keep doing this. I promised the Bellamys.

“No, I’m not doing it.” I stand tall and look him in the eye even though my heart is racing.

He smiles, as if amused by my show of strength.

“I’m done, Bryce. Tell them to beat me up already. I don’t care.”

“Oh, you’re going to do it, you motherfucker. Let’s see if I can find some motivation.” He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a piece of paper, and hands it to me.

I unfold it, a sick feeling in my gut. I have no siblings, no parents, no relatives to threaten. But the picture of me and Anna running together, looking at each other with wide smiles, is evidence that I have a very big weakness.

Fuck. I go very still, ice spreading throughout my insides.

I can’t let anything happen to Anna, especially because of me.

“Maybe Anna would like to pay off your debt. She is turning into one luscious piece of ass.”

I clench my jaw, blinking slowly, unable to comprehend this nightmare that I’m in.

“No. She has nothing to do with this.” I try to keep my voice from shaking.

He chuckles, and it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. He’s got me right where he wants me. I’ll do anything to keep Anna safe.

Anything.

Even if it means ruining myself in the process.